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#hes my pal my sweet cheeks my good time boy
bright-cloud · 4 months
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Shouting out loud for the people in the back:
Words cannot describe how much I love Wyll Ravengard
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notsoverymerry · 6 days
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Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)
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<jeong yunho x fem!reader>
summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.
genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k
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You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 
You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.
At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 
At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 
Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.
He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.
''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''
You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 
''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 
There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 
Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 
There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 
You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 
Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 
''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 
''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''
''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.
''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 
''Are you guys pulling my leg?''
''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 
You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?
''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''
A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 
It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 
You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 
''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''
''Hello, honey.''
The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 
''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''
It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 
''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''
The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 
''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''
It was as though they were doing it on purpose.
''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''
Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…
''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''
A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 
''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''
Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 
''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''
You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.
''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''
''I can hear that!''
That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.
''A reputable scam artist?''
That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?
''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''
A strangled sound tore from your chest.
''See? That's a laugh.''
There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.
You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 
Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.
His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.
''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''
He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 
''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''
He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 
''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 
Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.
You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 
''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''
There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.
''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''
''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 
With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 
Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 
He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 
''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.
''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 
He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 
''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''
He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 
Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 
''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 
You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.
You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 
''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''
He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 
You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 
When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 
''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 
His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.
You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 
You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 
''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 
You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.
''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''
''I love you too.''
He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.
''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 
You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.
''We're decent.'' 
''When did you come back?!''
''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''
Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.
''I am traumatized, by the way.''
''What's that supposed to mean?''
''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''
You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.
''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 
Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''
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shotmrmiller · 8 months
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y'all know the ghostface mori from dbd?
that's how cbf!simon takes a picture with you during sex on your own phone to send to your ex.
this wasn't supposed to be smut, but it is now. so. oh well.
cbf!simon had met him before, obviously, and didn't even acknowledge his existence the first time— only spoke to you, with his large body shielding you from your then-boyfriend. he was a worthless slip of a boy who walked around unawares with you in his arm, sat with his back toward any entrance and he even let you walk on the edge of the sidewalk.
unacceptable.
the only reason his face hadn't ended up on a milk carton was because when simon questioned your relationship with him, you swore that it had only been dates, and pecks on the cheek.
regardless, when he watched you get ready for a movie date night, simon decided that enough was enough.
he started coming around more, goading your boyfriend while still not addressing him.
"love, you got one of my old shirts around here somewhere?"
"pet, you remember that one lake i took you to and camped overnight? heard it's drying up, that true?"
it's comical if it wasn't just so fucking pathetic how your boyfriend just took it, like some sort of cuck. if it had been simon, he would've ended up on the stretcher in the very first meeting.
and then it clicked.
it should be him, not this meritless imbecile.
so, while he was waiting for you in the living room to take you out for dinner, the very first sentence that your boyfriend hears from simon is, 'ya wanna know why she's not sleepin' with ya? cuz i'm the one fuckin' her every night. sorry, pal.'
simon had been sitting on the couch, legs manspread, and his arms stretched out, lax, on the backrest when he said it.
the very definition of unbothered.
when you come out in your pretty burgundy button up, and tight black pants, simon was very glad that he ran that fool out the door— he doesn't deserve you.
you get a 'this is over' text in minutes, and simon tells you that he wasn't good enough for you anyway. just get comfortable, wear his shirt you love to sleep in, and put on a movie— he'll be back with a couple bottles of wine.
2 and a half bottles of wine later, and you find yourself under him, his tongue entangled with yours as he bullies his fat cock into you for the first time ever.
simon coos into your ear when you hiss at the pain of the stretch, whispering that you can take him because you and him are meant to be.
"it won't hurt the next time we do this, pet."
your mind is warm and fuzzy with the alcohol that courses through your system, and it gives you courage to ask, "promise?"
simon finally bottoms out, and your mind goes blank at the feel of him hitting a spot inside of you that no one's ever reached before.
"i promise. for you, anything. i swear it." he's babbling, but he doesn't care because you're finally his, and if he has any say in the matter, you'll only be his.
your pretty pussy will only ever know him.
he starts to move, long, slow thrusts, and the burning sting starts to melt into a toe-curling pleasure at the edges, and the liquid fire that started in your belly starts to spread through your veins— a scalding ecstasy burning you from the inside out.
you try to wrap your legs around his waist, but he's too wide, built like a tank— so you give up, and plant your feet down, opting to meet his hips with yours. the flared head of his cock rubs so deliciously against this one spot inside of you, and your vision begins to spot as your belly tightens, muscles tensing for what's to come—
when simon pulls out roughly, and a sob escapes your lips. you were so close, god, why is he being so mean to you?
simon lets out a pained grunt as his cock twitches and slaps the side of your thigh with his heavy hand, chuckling.
"i know you were, love, i swear i'm not trying to be mean, i almost just came in this sweet cunt. i'm not done with you just yet. turn around, on your knees."
your reaction is visceral, and you flip over so fast your stomach churns. you lower your head until the carpet is digging into the soft skin of your cheek, and sensually arch your back.
presenting yourself to him, your glistening, swollen pussy begging to be filled.
"'s tha' wha' ya want, love? hm? f'me to stuff ya full of my cock? beg me, then. beg me like the pretty slut you are— to fuck ya the only way i can. only me and no one else."
the words spill from your lips like water does a faucet, slurred with pleasure. "please fuck me, si, fill me with your cum, i promise i'm a slut jus' f'you, only you can fuck me the way i need, i swear i'm yours, only yours."
something in simon snaps when he hears you profess how you're only his. he sinks to the hilt in one smooth stroke, bends his left leg to deepen his angle and fucks.
you don't even try to stop the sounds that come from your mouth, too far gone, cock drunk. every thrust of his hips punches the air from your lungs, and your arousal is renewed with fervor, this time painfully so. it hurts, how bad you want to come, you just need a little more, a little—
"y'wanna come around me? lemme feel you then." simon's hand curls around your waist and his fingers start to draw cruel, tight, precise circles on your neglected clit, and your climax slams into you so hard, you might just start crying from the relief.
"thaaaa's it, pet. cream all over me with tha' tight cunt o'yours."
simon doesn't stop rubbing your bud, nor does he stop thrusting into you, dragging out your pleasure, almost to the point of oversensitivity.
"'m not pullin' out, y'hear? you're mine now. and i'm gonna cum inside what's mine, clear?"
you dumbly nod, bobbing your head up against the rough carpet, and he picks up the pace, his hips slamming into your hips, jarring your spine.
he finally comes in you with a growl, spurting thick ropes of hot seed onto the entrance of your womb.
your body is limp under his, and while still inside of you, he languidly reaches to the side for your phone. he knows the code for it too, and when he unlocks it, smirks at your background photo.
it's a selfie of you and him— you are posing with two fingers by your face, and simon's arms around your shoulders.
he finds the camera icon and opens it.
it's time that idiot knew you were simon's too.
simon leans forward, his front to your back, and pulls your head up by your tangled, sweaty hair with one hand, and holds the phone with the other directly in front of your face.
"say cheese, pet."
the bright flash of the front camera goes off, and then asks you what that dumbass' name was.
he snarls when you say it, but quickly finds it in your contacts and types a quick message.
'delete this fucking number. if i ever see you around here again, i'll kill you.'
then simon presses send. and then he also sends that picture to his own phone. that fucked stupid look on your face is something he needs as his screensaver.
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dreamwatch · 1 year
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STWG daily drabble - 19/09/23
Prompt: we’re not family
****
The ICU is at capacity. An earthquake, they’re saying. It’s been a week and they’re still sticking to that bullshit story.
Wayne’s not an idiot, and neither are these doctors. There are Feds here talking about dog bites and it’s written all over their faces, yeah pal, we don’t believe it either.
A nurse brought him a book a couple of days ago. “To keep your mind off things.” It’s hard to read when he’s listening for the whoosh clicks of the ventilator, the alarms, beeps and bells of machinery, all plugged in to his nephew, and knowing that these sounds mean Eddie’s alive. He doesn’t want to keep his mind off that.
Wayne hears a commotion in the hallway and he’s about to ignore it when he realises he recognises the voice.
He steps out of the room and is stunned to see his little brother arguing with two nurses. It’s like a slap in the face. Wayne didn’t even know he was out of jail.
“Christ, Wayne, will you tell these people we’re family?”
Wayne stares at him. At Albert Edward Munson, the baby brother who he wished for for so long. Who finally showed up a couple of months after Wayne’s tenth birthday and he’d thought it was the best possible birthday present anyone could have got him.
He used to take Al to school for his Ma when she was working, his small hand tucked safely in Wayne’s as they walked. That yardstick of growth, hand against hand, laughter and giggles as Al caught up to him, bigger and bigger each year.
He showed him how to slick his curls back with Sweet Georgia Brown before his first date. Told him he was still proud of him when he failed senior year. 
Hugged him tight when Al was drafted. Hugged him tighter when he came home.
He comforted him when he got Shirley-Anne pregnant, told him it would be okay. Gave him money, helped them get married. 
Cried with him when Eddie was born. Cried with him when Shirley-Ann died.
Bailed him out of jail when he went on a bender. Cleaned up the bottles and cans in the house so that Eddie wouldn’t cut himself on them. 
Argued with him when he saw the bruises on Eddie’s arms. Hit him when he saw the bruise on Eddie’s cheek.
Disowned him when he threw Eddie out.
He stares at his baby brother, and it fucking hurts because he sees so much of Eddie standing there. The big brown eyes, the dark curls. It fucking hurts because he loved this kid with all his heart and he did everything he could, he did, to steer him right, to keep him on a good path. All for nothing.
Wayne swallows thick and wet. “We ain’t family.”
“The fuck we’re not!” shouts Al. “You can’t keep me from my boy!”
Wayne is a patient man, but that there is his breaking point. He storms towards Al, grabs his shirt in one hand, points right in his face with the other.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he spits out, venom and anger and frustration, a pressure cooker twenty years in the making finally exploding. “On two counts. I will keep you away from him, and he ain’t your fucking boy no more!” Wayne shoves him away. “You lost the right to call him your boy the moment you beat the shit out of him.”
He catches sight of one of the Feds and well fuck let’s make them work for their money, he thinks as he waves him over.
“This man’s bothering the nurses.” He barely finishes the sentence before Al is being dragged out of the ICU, hollering and shouting the whole way.
The nurses are kind, they ask if he’s okay and he thanks them and apologises. For what happened, not for Al’s behaviour. Because he stopped being responsible for Al Munson a long time ago.
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corroded-hellfire · 2 years
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Okay okay so dad!Eddie picking up his kid after preschool instead of Reader and taking them out for ice cream as a treatttt? ily wifey
Anything for you, my darling! So glad that you love dad!eddie just as much as I do! 💖
Words: 1.8k
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“Surprise, baby.”
The hands on your hips startle you, making your husband chuckle against your ear. He slides his hands around to your front and tugs your body back against his.
“What’re you doing home?” you ask.
“Slow day at work,” Eddie says, pressing kisses against your shoulder. “Figured I’d take the afternoon off and spend it with my family.”
Grinning, you spin around in his arms, and reach up to cup his cheeks. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest man ever?”
“That’s what they say,” Eddie retorts with a wink. 
“Well, I was just about to leave to pick up the little troublemaker,” you say. “But I think he’d like it if his Daddy showed up instead.”
Eddie’s eyes light up, the most adorable expression on his face. “Yeah?”
“Of course,” you say with a laugh. “But watch out for those moms.” You pout, holding a finger up at him. “They all think you’re hot and you’re mine.”
“Like any of them could compare to you,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Should we go out to dinner tonight?”
“Spoiling us today, aren’t you?” you ask with a smirk. “Sounds nice, though.”
Giving you one last kiss, Eddie pats your ass, making you squeal as he pulls away. “Maybe tonight we’ll try and give the rugrat a little sister.” Before you can respond—a flush coming to your face—he throws you a wink and is heading out the front door. Eddie could be a menace, but he knows you love it. 
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The halls of the small school are loud as Eddie makes his way to his son’s classroom. There’s a small crowd surrounding the classroom door, mostly of mothers waiting to pick up their small children. 
“Eddie, right?”
Eddie turns his head to see a vaguely familiar looking woman with short black hair, giving him a blindingly bright smile. 
“Yeah,” he says, giving a polite smile in return. He really hopes she doesn’t expect him to remember her or her child because he’s coming up short. 
“I’m Eva. Andy’s mom.”
“Right,” Eddie says, nodding his head. He’s almost positive he’s never heard her nor Andy’s names before.
“Your wife is usually here, right?”
Obviously, since I’m not, he thinks. 
“She sure is. Figured I’d come get the little one today,” he says. 
“That’s so sweet,” Eva coos. “You’re such a good dad.”
I mean, he’s my kid too, Eddie thinks. 
Thankfully, the classroom door opens, saving Eddie from having to come up with a response. Over a dozen tiny humans pour out of the room, scattering like ants to find their parents. A joyful and familiar gasp greets Eddie’s ears.
“Daddy!”
“Jack!” Eddie grins and scoops his son up in his arms, peppering kisses all over his face. He’s distantly aware that some moms are watching him, and he’s not sure whether he should tell you about it to say that you’re right, or to ignore it so you don’t get that little nerve twitch in your eye that happens when you get jealous. 
“I missed you!” Jack wraps his little arms around Eddie’s neck, making his heart swell. The four-year-old pulls back to look at his dad. 
“I missed you too, pal,” Eddie says. “How was school?”
“S’good,” Jack says as Eddie places him back down on the ground. He reaches his little hand up and grabs onto his father’s. “We learned a new song. And then we got to color, and I stayed mostly in the lines this time.” 
Eddie can’t help but beam as his son chatters on about his day, leading his dad by the hand towards the exit of the school. Once they get to the car, Eddie picks Jack up again, pressing a few more kisses to his face as the little boy giggles.
“Daddyyyy!”
Ceasing his attack, Eddie chuckles and smooths down the light brown curls adorning his son’s head. His hair might be a little lighter than his dad’s, but his eyes are that same intense brown that has mom melting with a simple look, just like she’s always done with dad. 
“Let’s get you buckled in, yeah?” Eddie sets Jack’s small backpack down on the seat and helps Jack get situated in his booster seat. Unable to resist pressing another kiss to his boy’s head, Eddie does so one more time before getting into the driver’s seat. “I was thinking. How would you feel about getting some ice cream?”
Jack’s eyes light up, making Eddie grin from where he can see him in the rearview mirror. 
“Yes!” Jack squeals. 
Eddie turns the radio on as he pulls out of the parking lot. Ozzy Osbourne’s Crazy Train is playing and as Eddie begins to sing along, he hears Jack attempting to sing along, mostly babbling along to the general tune of the song. A glance in the mirror sees Jack shaking his head around as well, an honorable attempt at head banging for a toddler. When Eddie parks in front of the ice cream parlor, he unbuckles his seatbelt and turns around to face Jack, playing the air guitar to the song. The little boy giggles and starts to flail his hands around in a good imitation of air drumming. The song ends and Eddie lets out a deep breath. 
“Ready?” he asks his son.
“Ready!”
Getting out of the car, Eddie scoops his son out of the backseat and holds him up over his head. 
“Super Jack!” Eddie calls. The toddler holds his tiny fists in front of him like Superman soaring through the skies. Grinning, Eddie lowers him and holds the boy on his hip as he steps into the ice cream shop. “Okay, what flavor do you want?” 
Jack hums as his big brown eyes take in the wide variety in front of him. Eddie can practically see the drool leaking from his mouth. “Stwawberry!”
“Strawberry,” Eddie repeats. “Sounds good. Sprinkles?” Jack turns his head to give his father a look of, “duh.” Eddie chuckles and rubs his hand against his son’s stomach. “Right, right.”
Once Eddie has his cone of mint chocolate chip and Jack has his strawberry with sprinkles, the two sit across from one another in a red vinyl booth in the 50’s themed parlor. 
“How was school?” Eddie asks. 
“Good,” Jack says, little legs kicking underneath the table.
“What did you do?”
“Dunno,” Jack answers.
“You don’t know?” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “You telling me that I send you to preschool everyday just for you to come home and forget everything you did? Are they brainwashing you?” Jack giggles and shakes his head. “They hypnotizing you?” The little boy continues giggling even though he’s not sure what “hypnotizing” means. But it’s his daddy joking with him, so he’s going to laugh. 
“Had show and tell,” Jack says after another bite of ice cream. “I showed the buttons you put on my backpack.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks with a grin. “How’d the rugrats like the Iron Maiden and Megadeth pins?”
“They liked Casey’s pet bunny better,” Jack says with an adorable pout. 
“Kids got no taste,” Eddie says, shaking his head. 
“Daddy?”
“Jack?”
“I want—.”
“A bunny?” Eddie interrupts. “Sorry, pal. I don’t think so.”
“No,” Jack says. “S’not what I want.”
“What is it then? More ice cream? We’re going out to dinner with Mommy, so no more.”
“I want a baby sister.”
Eddie almost chokes on the lick he just took of the bright green ice cream. “What?”
“Brian brought pictures of his new baby sister,” Jack says of his best friend. “He told us all about her and I want one.” 
“Jesus, you and I are more alike than we already knew,” Eddie mumbles under his breath before addressing his son. “Uh, I’ll talk with Mommy about it, okay?”
“K,” Jack says as he finishes up his ice cream. “Brian says his Mommy carried the baby anyway. So yeah, ask.”
Eddie chuckles, knowing his son is envisioning his mother holding a baby in her arms, instead of how Brian’s mother carried the kid’s baby sister. 
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Eddie carefully opens the front door, balancing his sleeping son in his arms. Whether it was the sugar rush or the lulling drive home, Jack had passed out halfway to the house. Quietly shutting the door behind them, Eddie presses a kiss into Jack’s curls. Padding softly down the hall towards the little boy’s bedroom, Eddie meets you coming out of your shared room.
“Hey,” you whisper, smiling at the toddler tucked up in your husband’s arms. Eddie rests his head against the soft curls and throws you a wink.
“Hey, gorgeous. Looks like all the excitement from having Dad pick him up has worn him out.”
“Either that or a sugar high,” you say. Eddie’s eyes widen and before he can open his mouth, you laugh and gesture to where a pink splotch has smooshed against Eddie’s shirt from your son’s. “Strawberry, huh?”
“What a messy rugrat,” Eddie says with a sigh. He smooths down some of his curls, gazing down fondly at the sleeping boy. 
“Like father, like son,” you tease. 
“Oh, more than you know,” Eddie says with a smirk. Raising an eyebrow at him, you follow him to Jack’s room. 
“What’s that supposed to mean? The moms at school aren’t flirting with him too, are they? Because then I have serious concerns.”
Eddie huffs a laugh as he lays Jack down on his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle blanket. 
“No,” he says as he stands back up. “Though apparently Andy’s mom knows me for some reason. Ah, there’s the twitch of the eye! Anyway, no, your son told me he wants something today. Something I very recently told you I’d like as well.”
“And what might that be?” you ask, following Eddie as he walks out of the bedroom. 
Eddie snorts and shakes his head. “You’re going to think I’m lying.”
“Since when have you ever lied to me?”
“Okay,” Eddie says as he walks into the kitchen. He turns around to face you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Jack told me he wants a baby sister.” Your eyes widen, making Eddie laugh. “Swear to God. He said Brian brought in pictures of his baby sister and now he wants one.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you decide to throw a curveball at Eddie. “Okay. Come on.” You turn on your heel and stroll out of the kitchen.
“What?” Eddie asks, following you into the hallway.
“Do you want to get started or no?” You look down at your watch. “We’ve probably got half an hour before he wakes up. Want to get a move on it, or what? Babies don’t make themselves.”
“Shit, yeah!” Eddie wraps his arm around your waist, practically throwing you into your bedroom. Your laughter crackles through the house, but Eddie puts a hand over your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, sweetheart. Or am I going to have to put that mouth to use?”
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jamdoughnutmagician · 9 months
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New Year's Eve Kisses.
Steve Harrington x Reader (Fluff)
Just a short and fluffy NYE drabble with Steve, heavily based on this scene from Friends
Posting this a little early but whatever 🤷‍♀️
Word Count:668
Masterlist / Steve Harrington Masterlist.
The party is in full swing with everyone gathered in Steve’s house for a new year’s eve celebration. There’s banners, decorations and food and drink aplenty as all the party-goers stand around chatting in their groups.
“Yes! ‘87 baby! It’s finally going to be my year, Harrington. I can feel it!” Eddie beams brightly, his wide smile stretching across his face.
“Good luck, man.” Steve cheered back, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 
“We’re both happy for you, Ed.” you smile at your friend, although you wish you could share his enthusiasm about the new year drawing to a close.
You and Steve had been only dating for a few months, and Eddie was the only one who knew about you two. An unfortunate moment where he accidentally caught you both making out in a dark corner in The Hideout one time. Truth be told, Eddie didn’t think too much about it until he saw you leave the bar hand-in-hand with a matching pair of smiles on either of your faces.
Eddie noticed how your smile didn’t fully reach your eyes, and a worry set it’s place in his chest.
“Hey, what’s the matter?”  
“We wanted to kiss at midnight, but nobody else is going to, so we can’t either.” you explain with a sad tone in your voice.
“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart.” Eddie says with a nod. “Just let your old pal Eddie sort it all out.” he tells you all too confidently. 
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Eddie makes his way over to Robin where she is already enthusiastically beginning to countdown the seconds until midnight.
“33! 32! 31-” 
“-Hey Rob-” Eddie interrupts. “Who are you kissing at midnight, huh? Chrissy or Nancy?”
“What?” she replies in confusion.
“You gotta kiss somebody. You’re gay, so you’re not gonna kiss Steve.” Eddie explains further.
“So who’s going to kiss Steve?” 
“Y/N is.”
“Really?” She smirks, cocking her head to the side.
“Look, who would you rather have kiss Steve, me or y/n Eddie says with a quirked eyebrow.
“Oh definitely Y/n.” she decides all too quickly. “I suppose I’ll kiss Chrissy.”
“That’s great!” he smiles at her, with a pat on her shoulder before moving his way around the party.
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“Hey Chrissy!” Eddie shouts over to her above the music. “Robin’s going to kiss you at midnight!”
“Oh okay! Sounds good!” her cheeks flush pink at the idea of kissing that cute girl from the school’s band that she’d had a secret crush on for a while.
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“Nance! Nance!” Eddie shouts, getting her attention as he makes his way towards her. “I’m going to kiss you at midnight, okay?”
“What?” she shakes her head, her dark curls bouncing as she does.
“Everybody’s kissing someone, so I’m going to kiss you. Plus you can’t kiss Steve, you two have that whole weird history going on.”
“And?” she shakes her head once more, as if she wasn’t quite following what Eddie was putting forward.
“Besides, Jonathan’s not here, so who would you rather have kiss you, me or Robin?”  Eddie asks, with a confident nod of his head.
“Robin’s lovely, but I just don’t swing that way.” She confesses.
“Great.” Eddie smiles.
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The countdown to midnight draws closer and closer as everyone gathers by the television in Steve’s living room.
“3! 2! 1! Happy New Year!!” Everyone cheers, as they hug and peck the lips of their respective New years eve partners.
You wind your arms around Steve’s neck to bring him closer as his hands find their home on your hips, giving you a gentle and reassuring squeeze.
 Steve leans in close to you, his lips softly brushing against yours in a sweet kiss. 
“Happy New Year, Honey.”
“Happy New Year, Stevie.” you smile back at him, your eyes sparkling with love for the boy in front of you.
You couldn’t be more happy to have your Stevie in your life, and sharing a kiss with him at midnight was the perfect way to ring in the new year.
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@itsfreakingbats @penguinsandpotterheads @xxhellfirebunnyxx @onegirlmanytales @reidsbtch @willowsgrl @mrsjellymunson
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carlyraejepsans · 1 year
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> They make tandem bikes with three seats, you know.
You think of the numbness.
You think of the noiseless, colorless nothingness that would await you every time. How drowsy it made you. The way it clung to your lungs, the way it pulled you in like quicksand.
And you think of the fear that gripped you. Tearing at your heart like a wild animal, all teeth and fangs and rabbit fast heartbeats as you stumbled your way towards that light only you could see. Like a torch in the darkness.
You think about how it stuck to your skin. Thicker and viscous and harder to break free from every time.
You think about how it will be when it finally swallows you whole.
The breath that claws its way out of your throat is something mangled and raw. You wipe at your eyes, furiously, pressing the balls of your hands against your burning eyelids, willing the tears back where they came from, but it's no use. You hiccup again with a full body shudder, and your lungs ache with the effort of keeping a hold of your breathing.
Pathetic, a chastising voice of old sighs in your mind, first no dignity, then no shame. In life, as in death. At least you're consistent.
Blurred through your tears, Sans looks actually embarrassed for the first time since you've met him.
"uh. right. gotcha. i see..."
He makes a noise somewhere between a hum and clearing his throat.
"this is, uh," he says, "kinda awkward. could you not—uhhh. nevermind."
He rubs the back of his neck again, very pointedly not looking at you.
"look pal, this isn't personal. a job's a job. it's show bizz, or whatever. you know the drill. besides," he shrugs, still only checking you out of the corner of his eye, "nobody else here gets to manipulate time and have another try at life, you know? we're just dead. so, uh, from my perspective, you kinda got lucky there—"
He stops himself and grimaces, "WOW. okay. that sounds even worse out loud. you know what? forget i said anything."
He passes a hand over his face.
You close your eyes.
"man, what the hell am i doing."
You lean back and your head rest against the library behind you, breath still spasming, no longer caring to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You're tired, and homesick, and running very low on hope.
You don't want to die, the thought alone terrifies you, but...
You just want it to be over.
Something bumps against the side of your shoe.
You crack an eye open to see a plastic bottle nestled against your foot, presumably after being rolled across the floor.
Sans hasn't moved an inch. He still won't look at you, but his eyes do go to it a few times. Then to the parcel in his hands.
Wordlessly, you reach out and grab the bottle. It's heavy and too opaque to see inside, but the liquid within sloshes around thickly.
You take a swig. The sweet, tangy flavor of it makes you sputter as soon as it hits your tongue.
You wipe your mouth with a sleeve, "Is this ketchup?"
"yeah," says Sans, finally looking at you, "why? you don't drink?"
The absurdity of the situation is enough to drag a wet snort out of you. You consider your options for a moment, than take another swig.
Sans' shoulders drop slightly.
"see? we're good," he says, almost to himself, "we're good. we, uh. didn't get along that much the other times, right?"
"Three," you croak after a few steadying breaths.
"huh?"
"Tandem seats," you rub your eyes dry one last time, "they—they make them with three seats, too. The bikes."
"seriously?" Sans says, "must be a long bike. that doesn't sound very, uh, practical."
"Maybe it's a balancing act."
"heh. maybe."
He passes a hand over his face, then closes his eyes.
"oh boy."
Seconds pass that feel like minutes.
Slowly, your breathing returns to normal. You rub at your wet nose.
"look, i'll make it quick," Sans says, "are you gonna destroy this place?"
You look at him, startled, "What?"
"wiping out half the map trying to get stronger... is that, uh, on your bucket list?"
You look at him a little helplessly, plastic bottle clutched in your hands, "I just want to go home."
He sighs. He looks tired.
"yeah, well. welcome to the club." Sans shakes his head, "actually... no. scrap that. goodbye."
He snaps his fingers. The latch on the bedroom door clicks as it swings open.
"you can go now."
You stare at him, "What?"
"leave. you can go" he repeats. He opens his arms, as if to showcase the tornado that swept through the room, "i mean it's already enough of a mess in here. do you have any idea how long it's gonna take me to NOT clean this up? i'll be sleeping for weeks."
He winks.
You scramble to your feet. None of this feels real anymore.
"You're not going to kill me?" you can't stop yourself from asking.
"what? nah. i'm on break. also, i mean, imagine if you actually stayed dead. how would i explain that to my boss?" Sans shrugs, "yeah you can just go. i've had enough surprises for the day."
It happens in the split of a second.
It bolts into the room from the window, sleek and writhing like a snake. Sans barely throws himself back in time to dodge it as it twists and crashes into the door, slamming it shut.
"what the—"
A second bolt follows. It catches him off guard and rips the parcel right out of his hand.
It takes a few seconds for your eyes to focus and notice the gleam of metal.
Then the gloves.
"Why, darling," hums a robotic voice somewhere near the window...
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Text
✹✯✹✯✹ my submission for the @sillylovesongsfest ✯✹✯✹✯
prompt: Sweet Dreams, TN by The Last Shadow Puppets
Drarry | 1.5k | kinda nsfw towards the end |
Summary: Draco has a septum piercing. Harry doesn’t know what to do about that (yes, he does).
✹✯✹✯✹✯✹✯
And all my pals will tell me is that I'm crazy
You bet I'm loopy, alright
And I just don't recognise
This fool that you have made me
✹✯✹✯✹✯✹✯
“Harry, you’re doing it again.” Hermione squeezes the back of Harry’s hand giving him a bemused smile. 
Harry frowns. “Doing what again?”
Ron takes a swing of his beer, “Come on mate, we know you can get a little bit obsessed when it comes to him but—”
“I’m not obsessed—”
“Yeah you are,” Ginny snorts from beside Hermione ignoring Harry’s glare, “It’s bad enough that even I noticed and I’ve been here for what, twenty minutes?” Ginny leans close, amusement all over her face, regarding a very irritated Harry. “So, what is it this time? Did he change his cologne or did he start combing his hair differently or…”
“Is it because this has been the longest that you two have been apart since you got together and you just miss him?” Luna intervenes before Harry gets a chance to tell Ginny to fuck off. 
The blond girl perched under her girlfriend’s arm looks at Harry directly in the eyes and Harry can’t help but shift uncomfortably, looking away.
“Come on sweetheart, it can’t be that.” Ginny shakes her head at her girlfriend. “Malfoy has only been away for— what, a month? Harry can’t possibly…oh you’re joking,” Ginny laughs in disbelief at Harry’s crimson cheeks. 
“No, it's not— it's not just that,” Harry amends, still not looking at anyone in the face, “It’s just the other night when we were talking over floo, he looked… strange. I don’t know how to describe it better, okay? but I think he’s— I think he’s up to something,” Harry grimaces as soon as the words leave his mouth and the cacophony of groans in different states of despair is hard to miss.
“You gotta be kidding me,”
“Harry come on,”
“It’s like sixth year all over again,” Ron points out beside Harry. “Always thinking Malfoy was up to something, obsessed over his every move, I thought that maybe now that you two are together, that would stop but I think it only got worse.”
“I wasn’t that bad,” Harry grumbles under his breath. 
When he doesn’t get an immediate response, Harry looks up to four pairs of eyes giving him knowing looks and well, who could blame them? Harry is obsessed. Well on his way to insanity, but how’s that bad, being obsessed over one’s own boyfriend? Besides, it’s not like he’s wrong. He knows Draco is up to something, he can tell a disillusionment charm when he sees one. Even if he isn’t an Auror anymore, he’s not easily fooled. 
“If you weren’t already together, It would’ve been kind of creepy mate,” Ron observes, concerned. 
Hermione tuts, “Leave him, Ronald, we always knew they would end up together, didn’t we?” 
“He might be insane but it’s not like he’s going to marry him anytime soon.”
Harry splutters half of the beer he’s drinking and Ginny only gives him an amused look.
“You did that on purpose,” Harry accuses.
Ginny concedes with a nod but shrugs regardless, “I’m not hearing you deny it,”
Suddenly, the condensation around his beer seems fascinating to Harry. 
Two silent beats and then,
“Oh, Harry,” Luna coos.
“Oh no, you’re so gone,” Ginny teases, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Ron pats Harry on the back, heaving a sigh, “You’re completely mental, mate.”
“And you weren’t completely wrong,” Hermione says and it’s her tone that makes Harry look up from his beer and it’s then that Harry notices everyone is looking at something behind him in various degrees of surprise.. 
Confused by this, Harry turns around and his eyes immediately latch onto the blond boy at the other end of the pub. The vindication Harry ought to feel is quickly overshadowed by the almost physical reaction he gets when he takes a good look at Draco. Specifically, at Draco’s face. If his friends think he is already obsessed with his boyfriend, Harry is about to become completely mental. 
No matter all that Harry praises himself for being observant, never in a million years would he have guessed what Draco was hiding from him. 
A piercing. 
A silver septum piercing. 
Yeah, Harry is completely and utterly fucked.
You see, Harry has always known Draco is pretty. 
Back at Hogwarts, it drove Harry spare becuase it was one of those undeniable truths that go left unsaid because it is so damn obvious nobody feels the need to point it out. To have such strong negative feelings for someone it wasn’t that surprising after all that they ended up where they did.
So, even after all this time, when Draco’s beauty was something Harry could no longer just admire from afar but touch, well, it could drive anyone crazy. Draco was already very fucking pretty but to add a silver piercing to the mix? the bastard was out to kill him, Harry was sure. The final revenge is to make Harry’s mind implode. There was nothing Draco could do now that would shake Harry’s foundation more than this. 
And then, Draco looks back.
Harry is not aware of his surroundings, focused solely on Draco. All his mind can conjure as background noise is a low whistle and a “good luck, mate!” from the table he was in. Doesn’t matter anymore, he only cares about what’s in front of him. 
Making his way to the entrance of the pub, bumping into people murmuring distracted apologies as he goes, after what seems like an eternity, he finally makes it to the other side. 
Draco regards him with curiosity, a smirk tugging from his lips when Harry gets close.
“Harry? What are you—“
“Shut up,” Harry takes Draco’s face in his hands and kisses him hard. Draco lets out a soft whimper but quickly melts in Harry’s hands, kissing him back just as fiercely. 
“Mmm, does that mean you like it?” Draco whispers when they resurface sometime later, still a bit breathless, leaning closer to each other.
“I. Love. It.” he punctuates every word with a hard kiss against Draco’s soft lips.
Draco hums, pleased. Harry doesn’t waste any time, tilting his boyfriend's head to the side to have better access to his neck. Draco complies willingly. 
“Why Harry, ravishing your boyfriend in the middle of a public place, what would the Prophet say?”
“Fuck the Prophet,” Harry grumbles against his skin, biting that soft spot between Draco’s shoulder and his neck, where his pulse point is, making the blond bite back a groan. He tugs Harry's face up and kisses him even harder.
It’s not until Harry shifts a little, putting his leg between Draco’s to let him rub against it that the blond breaks the kiss to look at Harry.
“As much as I love this warm welcome Harry, I would prefer a more private setting if it’s the same for you,” Draco says breathing hard but he doesn’t stop Harry, he actually tugs him closer by the hair, so he can latch to his neck that is sporting some noticeable marks already.
Harry cannot actually think at this point but Draco is right, what Harry wants to do to him is not for everyone to see.
“My place is closer,”
“Lead the way,” still holding Draco by his hips, Harry apparates them away.
✹✯✹✯✹✯✹✯
Baby, we ought to fuck
Seven years of bad luck out
The parlor room mirror
Could I have made it any clearer?
✹✯✹✯✹✯✹✯
They don’t even stop kissing when they enter the parlour, not even to take off their clothes. It’s rather difficult to do that while you’re sucking the life out of someone but they manage. When they are left only in their pants, Harry manhandles Draco a little further inside and with a hand on his way and the other on his chest, Harry finally turns him around.
What are you—” Draco asks but stops when he sees where Harry is taking him: in front of the full-size mirror that takes up the better part of the wall. 
Draco looks completely debauched; lips shining with spit, hair all over the place, a glint coming from the piece of jewellery on his nose and Harry cannot believe how incredibly lucky he is, being able to see Draco Malfoy in this state and being the cause of it. He looks beautiful and Harry can’t wait to make a complete mess out of him.
Never breaking eye contact with Draco in front of him, Harry tugs him closer by the waist until there’s no surface they’re not touching. He can feel Draco’s arse touching the outline of Harry’s hard cock and Harry gives a teasing move when he hears Draco’s breath catching.
He then leans closer, his mouth next to Draco’s ear and in a low tone Harry says,
“I want you to watch.”
Draco laughs, breathless. “Kinky bastard, aren’t you?”
“As if you didn’t put this mirror here for this exact same reason,” says Harry as he leaves a trail of open-mouth kisses down to Draco’s throat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s trying to appear nonchalant, Harry can tell, but the way his body responds to Harry’s touches says otherwise.
He licks the side of Draco’s throat making him shiver. “Let me remind you, then.”
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magician-kitty · 2 years
Text
Dinner Interruptions
Context: Takes place during “The First Ring” Reader is a mute girl who’s having dinner with Red Son. Too bad it gets interrupted. 😓
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———————————-
(Regular Speaking)
(Mute Speaking)
Out in the middle of the hot, hot desert in China. MK and his friends were in search of the Samadhi Fire, and on the run from the shadow simian, Macaque. It seemed they’ve been walking for days and searching for a place for shelter, food and water.
Mei: “Dumb Macaque…dumb desert!”
Mei panted out of exhaustion, using her jacket to shield her from the sun’s rays.
MK: “Don’t worry guys, hopefully we’ll be able to find shelter soon.”
MK panted out, but truth is the heat was starting to get to him as well, getting weaker and weaker by the minute.
MK: “As we walk through this desert forever…and ever…and-“
The intense heat has finally caught up to the Monkie Kid, alongside Mei and Sandy, all of them passing out on the hot sand.
The last thing MK heard was the sound of an engine revving, blearily looking up at the face of an annoyed Red Son.
MK: “Red Son?”
Red Son: “Ugh…Noodle Boy.”
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Back at the Bull Palace, Y/N was waiting patiently at the dinner table for Red Son to return. The two of you were enjoying a little dinner date since his parents had stepped out earlier, so it was just the two of you alone. Apparently their was some sort of breach out in the dessert and he had went to go check it out, he assured you he would be back later.
Red: “Dearest, I’ve returned!”
Y/N gasped and pulled him into a hug, she cupped his cheeks into her hands, squishing them.
Red Son: “Hey, w-what gives dearest?”
Y/N: “I was worried about you, baby.”
Red Son blushed in embarrassment and stammered. He couldn’t admit it, but he enjoyed it when you worried about it.
Red Son: “Please, my dear. As if mere heat could harm the likes of me, Red Son.”
Y/N: “Whatever you say, Firecracker~ What happened at the desert?
Red Son: “Oh, that…Well, it would seem we’ve got unwanted company”
“Huh?”
————————————-
MK and the rest woke up eventually and started digging in messily. Red Son watched with a blank and disgusted face while Y/N also had a disgusted look on her face. Perhaps now you were starting to understand his frustration towards the Monkie Kid and his pals.
Y/N: “Well so much for time for ourselves then.”
Red Son: “ Do not fret dear, I’m sure they’ll leave eventually.”
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MK: “Ah, that’s the good stuff”
Red Son: “You’re welcome by the way” he sneered.
Mei: “Thanks, Red Boy. You the man”
The Dragon Girl said with her mouth full of food, accidentally throwing a piece of meat onto his face. Y/N started giggling while He stood up in anger, shaking the food off him
Red Son: “It’s Red Son! Ugh! I should have just left you all to the vultures.”
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MK looked around at the place, he had to admit their new fortress is pretty sweet. Their were all kinds of booby traps and weaponry.
MK: “You’re new crib is toight! Very nice acoustics too”
His voice echoed through the place. He clapped his hands to start an echo again, he accidentally stepped on one of the booby traps, activating it. Luckily Red Son saved him in time before it could hit him.
Red Son: “Would you please stop being so annoying?!”
He tossed him back into his seat where the others were.
MK: So, what’s been going on with you, Red Boy?”
Red Son growled, he was about to burst into flames again until Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder, calming him down. He sighed and sat back down with his arms crossed, head turned.
Red Son: “Well if you must know, I was enjoying a quiet evening until you all had to ruin it”
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MK: “Oh yeah? Who’s your new friend?”
Red Son gulped, his face went as red as his jacket, he glanced over to Y/N who was sitting next to him grinning.
Y/N: “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Red Son?”
Red Son: “Uh, this is Y/N, She’s my…”Lady friend”
Lady friend? Oh so its like that huh, Y/N knew he was starting to get embarrassed by the others; she found him even more cute.
Y/N: “Aww you’re too much, firecracker~”
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Mei suddenly gasped and went starry eyed, quickly wiping her mouth and setting her bowl down.
Mei: “Lady Friend? You mean, as In Girlfriend~”
she asked in a teasing manner, wiggling her eyebrows.
Red Son went all red faced, hair flamed up and studded in embarrassment. Y/N couldn’t help but watched in amusement as he became flustered.
Red: “WHAT!? I mean-she’s kinda-“
MK: “You have a girlfriend!? That’s awesome! So how long you two been seeing each other?”
Sandy: “Aww, young love is truly amazing”
Red Son sighed and rubbed his face, taking his glass of water in his hand and looks at them.
Red Son: “Don’t change the subject. You four aren’t even supposed to be here, So I’d appreciate it if you finished up went about whatever obnoxious business you were in the middle of before I saved your pathetic, meaningless, lives”
He said be before smashing his glass cup into pieces. Y/N gasped as she quickly checked his hand for any left-over glass that could be in his skin.
MK hands him another cup of water, much to the bull prince’s annoyance.
MK: “On it boss, you’re wish is our demand”
Red Son grumbled, rubbing his eyes before taking off his glasses.
Red Son: “Just what were you noodle brains doing out there anyway?”
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Mei: “Oh, we’re looking for the Samadhi Fire.”
Red Son immediately spat out his water, which splashed on Y/N’s face. She gagged and wiped her face, smearing the makeup she had on.
Red Son: “The Samadhi What!?”
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He was cut off by a low rumbling noise and behind the dinner table is the lava fall that opened up to the Demon Bull King. He goes up to them with an intense, imitating aura around him, scaring the others.
DBK: “The little thief returns”
Red Son sighed and slumped into his seat. Great, just great. All he wanted was a quiet dinner date with his beloved.
This date was a total disaster he’ll definitely remember.
The End.
—————————
(Alternative Ending)
Red Son: “You’re leaving, already? But I still had lots more planned for the two of us.”
Y/N nodded and gathered her things. Unfortunately it was getting late and she had to return back home.
Y/N: “Im afraid so, dearest. It’s getting late and I gotta head home.”
Red Son sighed in disappointment, he knew it was indeed too late and her family was Is probably worried about her. If only this day didn’t turn out the way it was.
Red Son: “I understand, I do apologize for how today went. And I’m sorry for, you know…splashing water on your face.
Y/N chuckled as she cupped his cheek into her hand and gave him a smooch on the cheek, leaving a lip mark on it.
Y/N: “Not really. I really had fun today. Perhaps next time we can do this again soon. Farewell, my little firecracker~”
Y/N stepped back as she soon disappeared in a puff of blue smoke. Red Son sighed and rubbed his cheek where her lips were. He then turned around and noticed the others were staring at him, giving him sly grins.
Mei: “So ….how long you two been seeing each other?”
“WILL YOU BE QUIET ALREADY!”
133 notes · View notes
asskickedbygirl · 2 years
Text
Temporary Girl [Johnny Knoxville x F!Reader]
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Desc: You become the girl Knoxville calls when he’s lonely in West Chester.
A/n: ngl i liked where this started but don’t really like the end… hmmmm. lmk if you enjoy! surprised this is my first knox fic
Warnings: smut 18+, oral m!receiving, vaginal fingering, p in v
2.6k words
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Of course you were going to fall for his Southern charms. Who wasn’t when he was sweet talking you so nicely, giving you all the attention in the world like you were the only one who earned it? The first time it happened you were on top of the world. Sure he was married, but you figured he’d done this stuff all the time, it’s not like you would make some huge difference. Only now it caused a huge dent in your life, like an asteroid walloping into you.
You knew the guys would look down on you for it, what with being the girl Johnny Knoxville hit up to fuck when he was in West Chester. Even if you were seeing someone at the time you would fold immediately, racing to the man’s hotel room as soon as he called. “You know he has girls all around the country, and now you’ve become his West Chester broad.” Bam would say all serious, like an intervention of some kind. You’d brush him off, “Stop being all dramatic. We both get something out of it.” Bam narrowed his eyes at you, “Really? Cause’ it seems like you guys fuck, you’re all happy and then he leaves and you’re miserable. What are you getting out of that exactly?” You’d get pissed then, because it was true, “Can you just stay out of my business please? Like how I stay out of yours.” Bam shakes his head, getting up to leave. “Well don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart again, I’m just trying to be a good friend.” And then he’d take off, leaving you to wallow in his honest words but none of them changed anything.
However, you did think of them pretty often. Maybe you should respect yourself a little more. You didn’t want to be deemed as just the slut he’d call to get himself off, you were as much a part of CKY and Jackass as the rest of the guys. You were the token girl for fuck’s sake! But Johnny was so god damn hot and persuasive that any ounce of self respect was gone the moment the phone rang.
Johnny was in town again, filming for the Fort Knoxville episode of Viva La Bam and after you all wrapped for the day, you found yourself at Kildare’s drinking away and playing pool with the crew. The whole time Johnny acted completely normal with you, cracking jokes like you were just casual pals and maybe you liked it that way, like you were secret even when all of your friends knew about what you’d get up to. Later on into the night, Knoxville called it quits. “I’m exhausted after my flight this morning, I’m off guys.” He did his rounds of goodbyes and physical gestures, even planting a soft kiss on your cheek, like he hadn’t kissed your most private areas like that. And then he was gone without a second to spare, no suggestion that he wanted to fuck.
You hated to admit that it made you pissed, but it did and Bam of course picked up on it. “You’re just in a pissy mood now that lover boy fucked off without you.” You brushed him off again, furrowing your brows. “Shut up Bam.” Bam raised his hands “Why can’t you just admit I’m right? You like being with him, not being his fuck buddy, but that’s all he wants you for. He’s married Y/n.” If you weren’t pissed before, you certainly were now, “You think I don’t know he’s married? Since when do you care about all this shit, you cheat on Jenn all the fucking time?!” Bam nodded his head, “Yeah I know, so I also know how a cheater acts, and he is breaking your heart without giving a single fuck!”
Your fight was interrupted when your cellphone started to ring. Bam narrowed his eyes at you, “You’re only going to get hurt.” You picked up your phone “I’m going to get off thank you.” You flicked it open and answered the call you were praying to get. “Hey sweetheart.” The Southern voice drawled, “I’ve missed you.” Your heart stopped a little, he missed you. You realised the more you thought the more Bam was right so quickly snapped back into smug mode. “I’ve missed you too.” Bam rolled his eyes at your response, getting an idea of the things Johnny was sweet talking you with. “So, you wanna come to my hotel room when you’re finished with the bar?” You looked Bam right in the eyes, “I’m ready to go now actually.” Bam shook his head, biting his lip. “Okay sugar, the room number’s 302, I’ll see ya.” You smiled smugly, “See you in a bit.” With that you shut your phone and stuffed it in your purse. “You know one day you’re gonna hate yourself for not listening to me.” Bam folded his arms. “And I am not gonna be your shoulder to cry on.” You put your hand on his shoulder, “You never were in the first place.” The words stung as you walked away, pretending like you didn’t give a fuck about Bam but you gave many fucks. “Where’s she off to?” Ryan asked Bam as he wandered over to where you had argued. “She’s going off to fuck Knoxville!” He said the last part extra loud so you and everyone else in the bar could hear. You turned your head around before leaving Kildare’s, flipping Bam the bird, and you were gone.
You knocked on Room 302, butterflies swarming in your stomach as if this wasn’t routine at this point. Johnny answered the door in his sweatpants, (interesting choice) with no shirt on and his hair damp, patting it with a towel. “Hey sweetheart.” Johnny smiled, that sweet sickening smile that reminded you of why you were willing to get your heartbroken every time he called. “Hey Johnny.” He leaned in and kissed your cheek just like he had earlier before moving out of the way to let you into the room. “Get the chicken wing stains out yet?” Johnny rolled his eyes, “Haha, very funny. I got new sheets.” You patted the soft bed and sat yourself down on it. Johnny walked over all nonchalant and lifted your chin up with his finger. You flashed him an innocent doe eyed look while he licked his lips. “Pretty girl.” He murmured under his breath as he leaned down and kissed you. Your lips reacted immediately, moving in sync with his but you kept your hands in your lap, awaiting Johnny to initiate what to do like he always did. It was nice letting someone take over completely during sex, you felt needed, wanted. Though maybe someone else would look at that differently.
Johnny pulled away from the kiss and bit his lip while standing up straight. He brushed a piece of hair away from your face and rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumb. It became apparent to you that you were basically face to face with his crotch and that the subtle way he pushed your head forward made out what he wanted. You looked at his crotch and then back up to him with those same doe eyes. He sighed contently when you began to pull down his sweatpants and reach your hand down his boxers to pull out his dick. He groaned with pleasure when you came into contact with it. It wasn’t completely hard yet so you spent time jerking him off for a moment to get him to full length. All the while, Johnny had his bottom lip between his teeth, still tracing your cheek with his thumb.
You placed the tip of his dick in your mouth and glanced up at him through heavy lids. He groaned loudly when you took all of him into your mouth, gripping him at the base. You sucked softly, moving up and down his length. “Good girl.” Johnny spoke, his hand now placed on the back of your head, pushing you down ever so gently. The words went straight to your heat and you moaned quietly, the vibrations causing Johnny to moan too. Even when you were sat on Knoxville’s bed, sucking him off like he wanted you to, Bam’s words were circling around your head. Sure you weren’t the first girl to suck Johnny Knoxville’s cock and that was fine, but you probably weren’t even the first girl this week. All that ‘He has sluts all around the country’ talk was getting to you but you swallowed it down, along with your spit that was now pooling, some of it down your chin. Johnny had a firm grip around your hair now, shoving you down so your nose was almost touching the space above his cock. He moaned and groaned as you tried your best to breathe through your nose, eyes beginning to water. “Just a second doll.” Johnny struggled to get out, immersed in his pleasure. After a moment he released you, lines of saliva linking you to his dick still. He tried to wipe the spit off your chin with his thumb but the attempts were pretty much futile, instead you cleaned yourself with the back of your hand.
“God you’re so good to me you know that?” You smiled at him, ‘I wonder how many girls he’s said that to’ the thought was washed down once more. “Come on let’s get this off.” Johnny helped you pull your tank top off, releasing your tits. He lay down on the bed as you unbuttoned your pants, shimmying them off with your panties, leaving you exposed. Johnny had now kicked off his sweatpants and was completely bare in front of you, the sight alone was enough to make you drool. You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. He pulled you to sit on his torso just above his cock, kissing and grabbing at your tits while you let out desperate whimpers. “Have to make sure you’re ready.” He whispered, moving his fingers down to swipe them through your folds. You whined when he let a finger breach into you, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders and raising your hips to allow him to finger you. Johnny watched you with intent as you shut your eyes and whimpered while you let him do whatever he wanted. He slipped another finger in and picked up the pace, stretching you out nicely. You moaned some more, putting on a little show for the man beneath you. You opened your eyes to make contact with his deep set ones, completely blown out with lust. Lust. Not love. Of course. His other hand which had been gripping your waist snaked up to feel your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers for you to make more pleasurable noises. After a moment, Johnny removed his fingers, examining the slick you had left. Out of curiosity, he moved the digits up to your mouth, wanting to see if you would taste yourself. And you did, wrapping your lips around his fingers to suck seductively. Of course you did. You’d do anything he’d say, he didn’t even have to say it.
Johnny smiled smugly, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Too good to me.” He whispered, the words making you release his fingers. He moved his hands back down to your hips and guided you down to his crotch. You looked down and grabbed his length with your hand, moving it to where it needed to be before sinking down slowly. You winced as he entered you, his hands pushing you down to help. “You okay?” He asked, and you simply nodded, “I’m fine.” It became apparent those were practically the only words you had spoken during this whole exchange. You just let Johnny do whatever he wished, no complaints. That was unfair, you wanted this just as much as he did. But maybe not for the same reasons. Johnny reached up and brushed your hair over your shoulder as you began moving back up, setting your own pace. “So pretty.” He murmured, his head foggy with pleasure. You knew the words were simply fillers but that didn’t stop them from going straight to your stomach, the butterflies running rampant. You struggled with going faster like you knew Johnny wanted you to and so he took matters into his own hands. He pulled you down so your tits were now pressed against his chest and he grabbed your ass tightly with both hands. Then he began moving you up and down much quicker as you buried your head into his neck, letting out louder whimpers. At the same rate, Johnny was bucking up into you, the pleasure causing your eyes to water. You felt quite pathetic in that moment. You weren’t able to ride him as well as he needed you to, ‘I bet one of his whores is way better at sex than me.’ This time you didn’t bury the thought, you let it take over. You pushed yourself up so you were sitting again and began moving up and down, this time much quicker. It was harder this way then just letting Johnny do what he wanted but you didn’t care now. Eventually you were bouncing up and down on his cock, small slaps echoing throughout the room. Your moans were louder and more pornographic but you took a lot more pleasure in the contorted look on Johnnys face. “Fuck baby.” He whimpered, his moans almost as pathetic as yours used to be. “I’m so close, can I cum in you?” His breathing was erratic at this point and the way he let you completely take over showed he wasn’t lying. You told him he could, a little resentful at the fact he didn’t remember you were on the pill. Johnny clutched your hips now, holding you down so you were completely sat on his cock before spilling into you with a loud groan.
You smiled smugly as Johnny kept his eyes shut while catching his breath. “Fucking hell sweetheart, I haven’t cum that quickly since high school.” You blushed at the compliment and slowly lifted yourself off of him. Your knees almost gave out while doing so, now you knew your legs would hurt in the morning. He helped you lie down beside him before getting up quickly to get a towel for you. You panted too, content that you had outdone yourself this time. Til you remembered why you decided to push yourself. Your demeanour changed when Johnny returned from the bathroom, towel in hand when he began wiping your heat. “Fuck, did you even get to cum?” Johnny remembered, slowing his movements. “Yeah I finished.” You lied. You didn’t orgasm very often when with Johnny but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t enquire any further and simply handed you a t shirt of his to sleep in, getting into a fresh pair of boxers himself. He slipped under the covers behind you and assumed the position of big spoon. He kissed your cheek softly. “You’re amazing.” He whispered and you didn’t respond. Simply smiling politely while the man who held you fell asleep soundly.
You didn’t sleep very well that night, your head swimming with Bam’s words once again. You tried not to think of the fact Johnny would be flying out in a couple days, instead revelling in his warmth but that was barely working. You turned over to face Johnny while he slept, admiring his features. You knew how lucky you were to be in the same bed as movie star Johnny Knoxville but it was only temporary. His temporary girl.
End.
@jackussy420 @gnarkillknoxville @lovexjoe @ckygetsjobs
224 notes · View notes
kissproof · 4 months
Note
Could you possibly do something with both mr.orange (readers boyfriend) who finally goes out and meets the rest of the dogs after giving Mr.orange a lovely hickey to show off. The dogs obviously give him a hard time about it but Mr.white just admires her handiwork and comments something like "that must have felt good" or "that must make him crazy worked up if you were able to get it that dark" until the reader offers to give Mr.white one as well. Which ends up possibly as a threesome.
thank you for your request loveeeee <3
SUMMARY: a hickey is worth a thousand words
WARNINGS: mature themes!
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to say it was bad was an understatement. the goddamn thing was like europe threw up on the side of orange’s neck. you’d given it to him the night before in the back of a bar where the two of you giggled and got handsy like teenagers. it had only further developed since the darkness fell over it and left orange looking undeniably wringed out.
after hours of useless fretting over it, he wore the hickey proudly. he told himself that it was just another piece of you; a deliciously painful memory of your lips that he could carry throughout his day. plus, you were gonna meet the other dogs today. with you on his arm, it was like another trophy attached to its olympian.
as you strolled up to pat lorraine's, eddie and vic were already outside, stalking like gravekeepers with their smoking cigarettes. they eyed you both through sunglasses of varying tints, eddie making sure his pretty eyes got protected from the excessive californian UV.
“ain’t she somethin’?” eddie whistled within ear shot, marveling at the paint job of fred’s car as he curled it round the parking lot and stopped it at their feet. it was funny eddie said anything at all. he could’ve bought twelve of fred’s car plus the one he sat in now.
“well, she ain’t yours, pal,” freddie retorts with a smirk, yanking the gear in place with his head out the window.
“wasn’t talking about your girl.” vic squints, unwavering in his cloud of smoke. “but…now that you mention it…” he drops his sunglasses further down his nose and winks at you through the windshield.
with an eye roll, fred gets out of the car and your eyes follow his hurried footsteps along the asphalt, biting your lip as you wait. you hear your door jack open and shut, a rush of hot air hitting your arm.
“thank you, baby,” you hum with a smile.
“holy shit!” eddie cries, beside himself. “what the fuck is that?”
your attention is brought quickly from your body to the ever-so-obvious mark on freddie’s neck now that you were both gleaming in the sunlight.
“oh… i-" you stammer.
“i haven’t seen one that big since you got out of jail, vic!”
“fuck you, cabot.”
“what the fuck is taking you dicks so long— jesus, orange, your neck." a new voice emerges from the left of you followed by a pair of goofy long legs.
“i know," freddie grumbles, turning his body away and pinching his nose bridge.
“sorry. i’m pink--mr pink. nice to meet you.”
“nice to meet you,” you say politely, forming your hand to his as he extends to greet you. you note that all of them smell of the same smoke.
“you do that?” pink asks, in awe, and you can only blush.
“let’s go,” freddie sighs and walks you inside, a hand on your back as you make it through the doors and spot two more men sitting down at a large table.
“hey! there they are! hello, beautiful.” the older man, who you know to be white, stands up with his arms outstretched and kisses your cheek as they all file in and sit down in their respective seats, leaving one open for you next to orange.
“hello-“
“what the fuck happened to you?” brown recoils, interrupting. his arm leaned on the back of his seat, yet another cigarette parked between his big fingers.
“what does it look like?” freddie cocks his hip, totally flustered.
“sweet thing gave our boy a real juicy kiss!” eddie laughs.
“it’s bigger than my hand!”
fred finally sits down next to you as white does the same, sandwiching you between them. “mustve taken a while…" he trails, eyeing your lips and imagining fred's neck. "t'get it that dark”
you eye white, curiously. “what? you want one, white?” brown smirks. a few scrapes of silverware is heard over the sudden silence of the table.
“just sayin… it’s a beautiful job.”
orange reaches his arm around your chair and hugs close to you. “well, you can all get a good look ‘cuz im done talking about it.”
“awwwwwww!”
“lover boy's embarrassed!”
you look back at freddie, then back to the guys. you shrug. “i’ll give you one too if you like it so much.”
“oh, yeah?” white adjusts himself in his seat and smiles, his face turning red.
freddie furrows his brow before poking his head in to get closer to white.
“in your dreams, white. she’s kidding.”
“i'm not!" you whine.
“baby-“
“it’s just a little kiss…”
you can't help but feel all the dogs' eyes watching you and orange as you look at each other, negotiating with the micromovements in your eyes. they'd never guessed orange would date someone who'd be so charitable!
eventually, freddie sighs, scooting himself back to face the other side of the diner, “…fine.”
you can imagine what happens next.
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Text
Not Used To Visitors
Kurt Kunkle x reader
(Summary: When Kurt asks you to meet his dogs after a little while of dating he’s so happy to be able to share them with you! But he forgets that he’s not really brought a friend home for a long time, and how his dogs react to most strangers on their property. Notes: Reuploaded from my ao3 - this was my first fic in a while, and ever for Kurt, when originally posted)
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“Hey y/n so- yeah! I h-heard you like dogs!”
You turned around to your doe eyed friend, well, you guessed he was closer to a boyfriend now, in all honesty you hadn’t had that talk because you thought it was still a little early to ask him about labels, and he was too awkward to ask. Dating was what you told people. And Kurt beamed every time you did, just like the way he was looking at you now.
You looked up at him from the passenger seat you’d just climbed in, smile upturning your cheeks in intrigue. “Yeah, I did say that. When you asked me yesterday Kurt.”
Kurt hopped in his seat at your response. “Well you’re in luck then mister-m-my love, because I’ve got some puppers who’re really excited to meetcha!”
“Really?” Your eyes lit up at this, and it seemed to give Kurt that little push of confidence he needed every time he’d started a new conversation with you once you’d asked him out. Especially when you didn’t react negatively at all to his last minute pet name. “Yeah-huh! Back at my home. They’re my grandpa’s pets but they live with me and my mom now.” He explained happily, seeming content to just sit in his car and talk with you, putting off the actual drive before he had to drop you off at your location. Luckily for him this proposal really caught your attention.
“Oh my god Kurt yeah you’ve mentioned your dogs before.” You grabbed his arm in both your hands as you spoke to shake it lightly, asking him why he hadn’t shown you them earlier. Truth is you mostly spent time in his car, out, or at yours. He’d taken you to the junkyard before, but not his home yet. To be fair, you hadn’t exactly known each other too long, you just couldn’t help but find this greasy gamer boy attractive.
Kurt dragged his eyes down to his arm, his throat bulging a little as he swallowed, feeling the warmth of your hands on him. “Yeah well... they’re good doggos.”
“What’re they called?”
“Luna and Dozier.” He smiled, relaxing into his headrest a little before you removed your hand. “They’re pits, but everyone’s always so mean about that.”
You nodded in agreement. “Yeah you hear those stories, from bad owners especially.”
“But they’re good dogs! They’re so sweet and like, like little old pals. You’ll see. You- well- you’ll see them tomorrow! In fact!” He shimmied up in his seat, a confident but hazy smile crawling upon him yet again.
You raised your eyebrows challengingly. “And what if, I’m not available tomorrow? Huh?”
Kurt momentarily froze, eyes sinking back down to his console, fingers playing on his turn signal. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry...” his lips quickly twitched into a dispirited frown. “Well- I guess-“
You smirkingly cut him off with a playful shove noticing the way his little dejected puppy expression still didn’t leave as he looked up at you confused. You tried to make it a bit easier for him, happily leaning your cheek against his upper arm, snaking your own through his before going to hold his seemingly always clammy hand. “Kurt I’m kidding. I’d love to go and see your dogs with you tomorrow.”
Whenever his cheeks blushed pink his eyes seemed to get more brown you thought. You adored that about him. “Really? Oh yeah w-okay, well, great!” His hand now slowly merged into your own, his fingertips grazing your palm as he shuddered whenever you did that to him. His hand was always so gentle when it held yours. Even though you had to admit how insatiably cute it was, you wish he’d grow a little more confident and secure when holding you. One time you thought during a chilling moment, he was so soft because he was scared of hurting you. But you knew the world had done it’s share of hurt to him, and that touch like this, until you, was rare. It was your job to make all those light simple touches near boring. Nearly. Giving a quick squeeze to his hand, you felt him lean more needily into your arm, even if it crushed it just a little between the seats. You gave him a hushed encouraging “Yeah?”
“Yeah!” He said it so happily that everything was going according to plan, he even leaned forward to give a chaste, although somehow still wet, kiss to the left of your forehead. “Sounds cool!!”
By the time you’d driven up to Kurts house you’d already listened to the top rotation of your favourite songs at the moment, some of which Kurt promised he’d add into a new song for you, even though you’d never asked him to, and he’d been ranting on about his dog’s favourite games, and what you guys could play, before just deciding to hang out with them when they inevitably got tired.
Kurt had already told you what his house looked like, so you weren’t surprised at all to see it so secluded. And although you’d seen it in videos of his you watched, you’d never seen Kurt’s bedroom in person, so you were definitely going to ask for a bit of a tour later on. That’s if you could find a way to ask to see his bedroom that you didn’t think would make Kurt spontaneously combust upon saying. You hadn’t had any luck yet. God he was an adorable mess of a man.
Even though Kurt liked to open his doors for you when he could, he knew you could get out of his Prius just as quickly. So he walked around to the side as you got your bag from the car floor, and walked outdoors, standing by Kurts side as he smiled back down at you, trickles of hair covering his eyes, before he shook it out the way and to the side. “Well- here’s- home sweet home! Welcome.” He threw his arms up in the air, slapping them back down at his sides, before walking up to the front door.
That’s where you were expecting to meet his dogs. Inside the house dozily waiting for Kurt to come home. You neared just a few feet away from the side fence, in the middle of a sentence to do with if Kurt’s mom would be home, when all of a sudden a loud mass of barking accompanied a heavy weight bashing the fence right at you. Shadows clipped through the gaps of the wood and the whole frame shook, snarls and growls bellowed louder as the lock to the gate was clawed at, scratch marks accompanying the wood around it as the noises grew louder and more violent.
You jumped at the sudden assault of noises, scared and shocked into stillness as the wood seemed to bulge out almost cartoonishly, like something was about to break free and head straight for you.
“Hey hey hey!”
You hadn’t even realised you’d backed into Kurt, neither had he realised he’d come to wrap around you from behind, both acting instinctually, even though it was his beloved pets.
It was only when his arms wrapped over your shoulders that you felt yourself breathe again. And that’s when you realised his words were too harsh to have been trying to comfort you. He was talking to his dogs.
You looked up at him from where he was softly tucking you into his chest, even he looked shocked at their behaviour, although there was a distinct trace of sternness you didn’t think you’d ever seen on Kurt Kunkle’s face before. You sank further into Kurt’s hold as you looked back at the gate, backing up into him as much as your subconscious state would allow.
Kurt swaddled his arms around your upper torso further, protectively. “Hey stop it you two! You’re scaring them!” Kurt gently clasped onto you quickly again with a soft squeeze. “Stop that right now!”
The banging on the wood stopped, thankfully, but even as the lock stopped flipping up and down, you held all of your body as flush to Kurt as any parts could; the barking didn’t cease, and they’d begun howling now.
Kurt seemed to be instinctively and not at all falsely confident about something for the first time in his life now. At least since you’d known him. He rubbed his warm hands up and down your shoulders, rejuvenating some spark in you you realised had been simmering a little, thankful for his touch of reassurance. After a couple of seconds of that he looked down at you, frowning, disappointed, and apologetic and upset on your behalf, letting you go with another brush, but marching straight towards the fence now.
“Hey you two. You’re being very bad!!” Kurt pointed his finger at them, through the rather crooked gaps, and it made your breath catch in your throat. But these dogs who’d been growling and snarling incessantly since the moment you stepped even close to their home, only licked and whined at Kurt’s finger as he lectured them, the darker one, Luna, even going in for a friendly nibble, as if she was just saying hello after he’d come back from the store.
Kurt still wagged his finger, even though he didn’t stop either of the dogs as they paced close to the fence, or went up to sniff and lick at him, wagging their tails. Dozier sat a little further away in the background as they saw their mad owner’s gaze upon them. “You’re both being really bad dogs! Y/n is a friend! See? Gooooood. A good friend. They’re nice. And you can’t bark at them! No barking! No biting!!!”
As in control as Kurt was, your heart was still to stop hammering.
“You don’t attack y/n, okay! Don’t be naughty. Y/n is a friend. You be nice to y/n, okay?”
Kurt walked back up to you with a sigh, head hung but with no growling behind him. You swear you could hear a tail repeatedly hitting the fence panelling.
Kurt raised his head once he got near you, and that was your cue to raise your arms. He enveloped you in the hug first, which wasn’t too unusual, but the small, yet heavy, open mouthed kiss to your cheek was a bit of a rarer deal for him. Although you didn’t doubt he thought about it a lot. His movements almost seemed natural to him at this point, and you just melted into his chest, resting your cheek on his soft shirt that smelt of mango vape and a bit of sweat, but you liked that last smell. When he stayed over and your pillows smelt of it, or that time he didn’t have a shirt at yours and gave you back your tee that you fiddled with the rest of the evening, or when he hugged you, just like this. “I’m sorrry...” he drawled out.
You shook your head. You weren’t sure what at, but you did nuzzle your nose and one of your eyes into him more efficiently. You closed the other one as well, just letting him hold you as you breathed.
“Sorry... they’re not used to new people.” He explained sadly, rubbing a hand comfortingly up and down your back, in such a way it raised your shirt a little at the bottom each time. It felt nice, to have him knowingly hold you like this. You were sure he was getting a little comfort out of petting you this way as well, but of course you were happy to give him that. You clasped your hands around his middle, rubbing your face against his chest for a couple of seconds before just relaxing into him. You felt enveloped for a moment as his neck craned and his long hair hung over you, head tucked against yours, but you welcomed the enveloping, how he sheilded you in the darkness. Kurt started to sway you then, and you hooked your arms around his shoulders, leaning into the back and forth movements with you and he kept up his soft rubbing. All the while breathing him in, finally having your lungs return to normal.
It only lasted a couple of seconds though, before Kurt was pulling back, pouting down at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes. You could tell he was upset by how his plans had gone. “Oh K-Kurt.” You lowered your hands now, holding one to his hip but using the other to rub smaller circles than his one into his lower back. Kurt tucked his chin at you, looking down between your feet. So you raised the hand on his hip to his chest, having him look at that instead. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t plan it to go this way. It’s alright. We can do something else instead.” You tried to reassure him sensitively. “They only spooked me for a second.”
He looked back up at you now, biting on his bottom lip with his upper one. You pat his chest twice. “I’m sure they really are good pets, just-“
“Come here. I wanna show you.” Kurt’s tongue dashed down to his lower lip, wetting it in thought, as he grabbed your hand in his, and absentmindedly following, you quickly realised he was leading you straight to the dogs. “Wait Kurt. I don’t think-“
“Hey!” Kurt whistled, and you could immediately hear the dogs at the gate again, your heart beating inside your chest. Although this time they weren’t trying to open the gate, they weren’t even being loud. The only noises were the patter of excited footsteps on the pavement.
Kurt let go of your hand once you were both by the gate and squatted down, putting the back of his hand to the gaps. “H-hey, hey guys.” This time his stutter wasn’t from second guessing his sentence, but from laughter, at the tickle of his dogs licking his fingers with friendly anticipation.
“Now you need to be good dogs. Luna? Dozier? You need to be good dogs okay? Y/n’s good, they’re my- they’re my friend.” He seemed to flounder for just a moment, unsure whether he was allowed to call you his partner or not, or whether his dogs would even understand that. “You’ll get more used to them. They’re your friend now too.” At this point, Kurt looked up at you, bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning in childish excitement. He held his hand out to you, as you twisted your lips down at him. You were thinking about it.
“C’mon. I swear they won’t hurt you. I promise.” He said, tilting his head almost like a sad dog. When you didn’t move he took your hand himself, but softly, guiding you down, calculating his movements to make you sure he wasn’t bringing you any further to the gate, only to him. “I promise I won’t let them hurt you.” He brought your hand back into his chest this time, moving it about in between his own, with it gently brushing over the fabric of his shirt. And then, with all his gaze focused on it, he leant down and kissed the back of your hand, with all the tenderness as if it was a physical wound, rather than you just being emotionally scared. His lips continued to hold their affection in them, just as his eyes did as he batted them up at you. It was when he dropped your hand, fingers still itching to trace on yours till the very last second, that you imagined this is the feeling Kurt had once explained to you late agaisnt your pillow. How your hand felt like it had pins and needles where he’d once been touching, except these were warm, and exciting to the touch, and not in the least bit uncomfortable. Only the sensation could be soothed, by being touched by the other once again.
Finally, with his words of encouragement, you started to move a bit closer. Kurt shuffled, still crouching, until he was behind you, knees swaying against your back every so often, as his hand held encouragingly on your shoulder, there and alert for you in his promise, as you slowly reached the back of your hand towards the gap in the fence.
The immediate sniffing against your skin brought in light giggles. Memories of dogs you’ve loved and childhood meetings flew into your mind as you felt the two dogs fighting over eagerly sniffing your hand through the medium sized hole, only there was no hurting or snarling, just tripping over each other and excited nudges of each others noses.
You wondered if Kurt had thought the mix of his scent on your hand would help the dogs accept you more, or maybe he just wanted to kiss your hand. Looking at him right now, even though he was looking at the dogs, full of light and smiling so genuinely, you really thought it was the second one. You laid a hand on his knee. You could always have used the excuse you needed it for balance, the way you two were framed right now, but you didn’t want to. You smiled at him, not even noticing one of the dogs had gotten their nose through until they eagerly started to lick at your palm. You giggled into Kurt’s eyes at how gross the feeling was, before moving your hand closer so they could both sniff and touch it more. You didn’t notice that Kurt’s eyes had been glued to yours since the moment your hand touched his knee. His face only got redder when you went to stretch an ankle, and your hand slipped further up, to his mid thigh.
“Right! C’mon guys! Be good dogs to y/n okay! Friendly!”
“Wait!” Panic started to set in a little as you realised Kurt may still not understand so much how different his childhood pets may react to a stranger, especially if he hasn’t had many friends over before. “Kurt hold on a-“
Before you could react, Kurt had unlocked the gate, and you were still in a squatted position. You shut your eyes with a brief squeak, before you felt something barrelling into you. You fell on your ass, still managing to keep sitting up, with your hands raised in surrender in front of your face. You didn’t know what you expected, but the tongue between your hands trying to dig into your face, the slapping of a tail against your calf and a paw on your crotch took you a second to digest. As soon as you heard the friendly whining, you peeked through your hands to see Luna, the darker grey one, with her dropped ears and her paws pattering desperately as she finally got up to your face, immediately licking where she’d been denied before, and sniffing everywhere you could. Your hands lowered down, expecting her face to follow, but a gush of wind right in your eardrum as she sniffed made you burst into laughter. You couldn’t even be mad at the fact Kurt had just opened the gate with too much trust in them, they were too cute to be mad at their owner.
Looking up, hands finally finding a gentle purchase on Luna’s paw, you saw Kurt stood directly in front of you, momentarily blocking Dozier from his attack of snuggles so you wouldn’t be bombarded, but Luna having snuck past. You couldn’t help but gaze into his open mouthed smile, as he watched you and his previous best pal become buddies.
You were slightly afraid if you opened your mouth, Luna would find her way in there, but you managed a very pleased grin at him as Luna snorted against your chin, desperately trying to lick your face.
Kurt was so happy, watching you, a person he actually really liked, who liked him back, out loud, playing with his dogs, outside his house, smiling at him like that.
He was so distracted he forgot about the pit with more patches of white on them, but it didn’t matter too much as Dozier was just as friendly when they finally got to greet you, sniffing the back of your head and accidentally head butting your shoulder in the process, trying to climb under their sister as they tried to smell you even more. You just laughed more and more at that, and Kurt fell to the ground, bringing his knees up to his chin but making sure his feet just touched yours, as he laughed more genuinely than he felt like he had in years. Well, discounting the times you’d made him laugh recently of course.
The dogs went to go play with Kurt now as well, Dozier happily accepting a few head scratches in trade for leaving Luna to slobber over more of his face, trotting back over to you with a wizzing tail to get less of an interrupted inspection.
You gently tried to lead Dozier down from your face, not exactly wanting any kisses from the mouth, well, not from the dogs, distracting them with ear scratches until their butt was basically landed in your lap to get an equal amount of scritches, laughing each time their tail whipped your leg out of excitement, and how their head bounced back and forth to get a good idea of which ear would be scratched next.
When you finally got a chance to open your eyes without a fear of slobber getting on them- and you’d done a pretty good job of protecting your face, just not your head, or anywhere else- you saw Kurt, who had clearly been trying to speak to you, in a much similar position that you must’ve just been in. With his eyes and face scrunched up so cutely, but still clearly in a big smile, as Luna licked all over his face, wherever she could get. Kurt seemed to resign to his slobbery fate just a little more than you though, it made you giggle. Which of course got Dozier to bound up and go for your chin again. You gently set them down, looking at Kurt again and finally gaining some eye contact, and with both your twisted up smiles, Kurt finally started to stand up, reaching his hand over and, after Luna so graciously accepted first, you took his hand and let him help you up, both pups circling around your feet now, sniffing excitedly at your pants and looking up at their new friend with playful anticipation.
Kurt seemed to get them, letting go of your hand but stepping closer to you in the process, cheeks coloured with pink yet again. “Yeah yeah. You dog-guys go play. We’ll play with you in a minute, okay?” He swept his hair slick with either grease or slobber, likely both, back to the side. Both dogs came up to his legs now, and both demanded attention before they ran off together in Kurt’s land. “Yeah. Good dogs.” He drawled out, grinning.
And that grin stayed on his face as he turned to you, happy and proud, of his dogs and from making you laugh so hard, beaming down on you as he finally had you, y/n, in his yard.
And fuck was Kurt the most adorable boy you’d ever dated.
You practically skipped that last step towards Kurt, before you were close enough to take his hand again. He happily took it without much of a pause this time, still letting you take the lead though on where they went, although your eyes crinkled with your smile as you watched Kurt play with your hands, his eyes just watching as he gently toyed with your fingers. It wasn’t until your legs moved till they crossed with his, and your free hand trailed gently to his chin, making him look right into your eyes, that he did so. His demeanour immediately changed, whilst he still held your hand, he clasped it more for comfort, and except for his eyes that slowly drew down to your mouth, his body began to still. His lips parted, into a small round shape, perfect and plump, hot shallow breaths starting to be audible as he realised what was happening.
His eyes remained warm and lips wet until you didn’t exactly pull away, but you broke eye contact, fake groaning with a pout that still couldn’t wipe away your smile. “Mmmmh! I don’t wanna kiss you nowww.” You drawled, emphasising the now, and moaning like a brat. But Kurt, like usual, didn’t seem to catch on.
He did draw back slightly, but out of confusion. Not enough so your hand would leave his face, but his hair wasn’t dangling above you two anymore. His eyes squinted sadly, before they seemed to get innocently wider. “But, why?”
You laughed. So much of a laugh that Kurt had to get you’d been joking earlier, especially with the way you lightly slapped his chest, but kept your hand on there soothingly afterwards; also, much to his eager and unexpected knowledge, he could tell you liked the way his chest felt under your hands by the way you touched it. His heart beat quicker at the knowledge, and he had to suck in his lips to stop himself from whining like a dog, as he realised you could probably feel it too.
The whine only became audible, once your hand slithered up his chest, past his very sensitive neck, to pat teasingly at his cheek. “Go wash your face pretty boy.”
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amazingmsme · 9 months
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Hcs that have come to my mind after recent asks youve gotten:
1) Tinky kicks his left leg like a dog whenever someone (Ted!!) scratches his belly. He also sticks his tongue out too, he basically becomes a docile housepet to his ler (which Wiggly thinks is a weakness Tinky needs to work on !!!)
2) Wilbur absolutely accidentally taught the lib about tickles. He never minded nor cared for it, but he kinda enjoys when it happens. I can see Wiggly being like "So... if I do this- you humans will laugh? Just like that?" And Wilburs like "Uhuh, usually yeah. Now it does differ from man to man, but you're on the right track pal." And not bat an eye abt whats abt to go down. (idk something about characters w accents that makes brain go agdkzljc-)
3) First time (or one of the times) Curt brought Tati home to his ma's place is when she found out he was ticklish. His ma, bein an absolutely sweet mother, either A) gives the two a room alone but warns Tati that Curt's got a sensitive neck & ears OR 2) is so excited to see her son, who in return is happy to see her, that she gets all gushy and starts grabbing his cheeks like a little boy. For a sec Curt forgets Tati's there, but when Mama Mega starts lightly tickling him he recoils in embarassed giggles.
(I love the uprise of the starkid/tcb tk community)
THESE ARE LITERAL PERFECTION OMG I’M SMILING LIKE A DORK KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR & GIGGLING
Tinky ABSOLUTELY acts like a cute lil puppy when he’s tickled & it honestly endears Ted to him & that bastard is such a mean tease & is still pretty damn salty about his situation, so he really doesn’t hold back! Wiggly walks in on them & is like “EUGH! Have some respect for yourself!”
Bro you’re making me simp for the man decked out in denim head to toe😭 (I was when Black Friday first came out, it was just overshadowed by MacNamera & by now I lowkey forgot about him) but he’s so smooth about it & brushes it off to keep talking but Wiggly is hung up on that & his smile just keeps growing & is he closer? Wilbur’s definitely sure he’s closer. & now he’s starting to catch on & tries to back track & say how he isn’t ticklish but most people are, but it’s little kid shit, really, far beneath someone like you but Wiggly insists that he be taught about this “fun, silly little weakness you all share” & calls his brothers to help
Dude Curt’s mom is so embarrassing, idk how he can stand it! She loves him so much & just wants him to be happy but damn she doesn’t have to be so cringe about it! Tati is sooo amused & thinks it’s really sweet that he has such a great relationship with his mom (she’s totally not jealous or anything) & teased him about being a mama’s boy. But I feel like his mom would accidentally tickle him & then tell her how she’s “gotta be careful” with him because he’s “always been a sensitive one” & he’s like “OKAY MOM BYE” & once they’re alone & they get some things off their chest, Tatiana decides he could really use some cheering up & puts that information to good use
& bro I had no idea there were so many of us! It’s not like 5 years ago when it felt like I was out here all by my lonesome (god I can’t believe it’s been that long since tgwdlm)
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theanonymousninja247 · 10 months
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This One’s For The Boys
For my guys, my dudes, my broskis, my mates, my pals, and most importantly, my friends
The Sunshine Boys: those who are so good it's kinda hard to believe they actually exist. Not a mean bone in their body. Always got something nice to say. Works quietly in the background, but is always there for you. Smiles are literally blinding; so full of sunshine goodness and light. Honestly just makes your heart warm to see them again. Life is better simply because they light up every single life they touch, and just like the sun, you desperately miss the warmth of their soul and wholesome character when they are gone. Also somehow also a living golden retriever???
The Cinnamon Roll Boys: boys too sweet and wholesome for this world. May or may not give you a cavity. Always spending time in the kitchen thinking about what new masterpieces they want to create. Secret quiet confidence. A real classic gentleman. The type of boy your momma would love, and your siblings want to be their brother. Strong desire to squish face cheeks because they've got that strong baby energy.  Always there with a smile, a hug and a warm plate of homemade cookies. Compassionate to the max, they just wanna share that goodness with everybody. Always makes you feel welcome and part of the family. Best Friend Material hands down, so he will tease. You have been warned. 
The Adventure Boys: Makes everything seem like a grand adventure. Excitedly grabs your hand with a reckless grin, bright eyes and pulls you into whatever form of mischief they're currently up to. Karaoke jam sessions in the car, late-night food runs, stickers and memorabilia of every trip. Doesn't take pictures as much as they probably should because they're always too caught up in the moment. A little reckless, making your heart race just a little, but heart of gold because they just want to experience the world with you. Every adventure becomes a fond memory with soft but often exasperated smiles. 
The Grass Boys: Quiet soft boys who feel more comfortable out in the sun or up in a tree somewhere. Fantastic listener, wicked observant, probably a closet nerd, but is an engaging story teller once you get to know him. Messy hair always up in a baseball cap with golden skin that's been kissed from adventures out in the sun all day. Has fingers and shoes stained with something he's working on. The handyman, knows oodles of random facts and probably could fix anything if you give enough time and a little bit of duct tape. Dad  in training. Not afraid to take the lead when needed to, but always going to make sure your voice has been included. 100% would be the type to dance in the rain with you. 
The Fire Boys: Boys with boisterous voices and quick tongues whose passions blaze within their hearts. Intense and a little in your face, but they just can't hold back how much they feel. Never afraid to stand up for what they believes in and is loyal almost to a fault. Will fight you and for you. Stubborn and doesn't back down, always wanting to find justice for the world because just wants to make it better. Sometimes anger runs away from him, and worlds may burn a little, but there will be nowhere safer than in the warmth of this boy's hug. 
To all the boys, I'm sorry that we live in a world where your thoughts and feelings have been dismissed and made trivial. 
You are important. You are needed. Your influence is making a difference and the world needs more goodness like you. 
From a girl who sees you, is proud of your efforts and loves you from a distance for the wonderful person that you are. 
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hyorinbaek · 2 years
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NH Fair Day 10
🤍 Prompt: Culture 🤍
*
When childhood friend, meet again after long separation. Warm feeling blooms inside their hearts.
*
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"He's come back?" She smile happily when she heard the news from her maids. Her heart was pounding just from hearing of his arrival after a long time.
The rebellious young man who wants to be called prince and secretly (when it just both of them) likely to claims to be the future king of this country. Hinata couldn't help but think the boy who was so loud and seemed to despise all the rules and politeness protocols was a prince and want to be the king.
"Please, Lady Hinata, don't run!"
And now she also has forgotten about manners and rules, where a girl should walk slowly and gracefully. But she couldn't stop herself any longer. She miss him so much until it feels hurt. Hinata ran in the hope of seeing him soon after being separated for eight years; even if she couldn't meet Naruto face to face, even if she just seeing him from a far, Hinata just wanted to see how the years of separation had changed the young man.
She ignored warnings from maids who tried to stop her, knowing that within a glimpses she would reach the front gate and see Naruto. Sweet smile formed on her face, she couldn't hide it anymore.
And when her passionate dreams greet her faster than her footsteps....
His figure suddenly appeared before her. The blonde locks, the sky-blue eyes, and three strokes on each cheek. It is him!
Naruto-daegam....
The shock made her steps lose it's balance. Falling in front of him would be so embarrassing.
"Hhhhhh!" Hinata closed her eyes tightly, imagining the pain that must be nothing but humiliation when she crashed in front of Naruto. In her head, Naruto would make fun it and enjoy to make her embarrassed.
But, instead hitting the ground, she fell into a strong and tight hug. Strangely, it feels warm and comfortable.
"Watch your step, Hinata"
"Naruto...."
No. No. No. She didn't planned to be this close.
🤍🤍🤍
Ahoooooyyyyyyyyy!
So.... This is my second entry for NHMonth!💓��💓
I'm so intrigued with culture prompts and really want to see NaruHina in Korean traditional chlotes, eheheihopeiinterpretedthepromptcorrectlyhehhe. I'm inspired by some Korean Dramas that I've been watched (you pals should watch Under The Queen's Umbrella, it is sooooo good!).
I'm planning to make the costume more authentic, where in their chlotes have some embroidery/insignia, and also their hair--especially Naruto's hair where it should be sangtu (hair top knot) but it seems I can't make it right. So yeahhh, I know my limit. I will do better next time huahahahhaha.
So back story for this piece (which inspired by UTQU drama) that Naruto is the grand Prince whoo should live outside the palace because there are concerns he will outshine his older brother (basically his twins), the crown prince. That's why he can live and learn in Hyuuga dojo and be friend with Hinata during their childhood. But because something happen in the palace, and the crown prince in danger, he was ordered to go back to the palace. Hinata and Naruto separated, yadayada.... And after years, he come back to Hinata.
Anddsss please excuse this cheesy and bad-grammar story. Hihihi, hope you all like it!
And this... A cheesy (again) video *hide under the rocks*
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newbornwhumperfly · 2 years
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a red seed…
so, i whipped up a little Gifte for my dearest pal @much-ado-about-whumping cause they voted and also they’re just wonderful therefore deserving of Giftes ❤️❤️❤️
a little context ~ déomas is bel’s lovely whumpee from their déomas and rhys series and cassander is my whumpee (a sex slave, from my series morja and company, who has yet to make an appearance!) who bel and i have lovingly crafted together! this is just a sweet little nonsense crossover ❤️
CW: Allusions to noncon/dubcon, dubiously consensual sex work, homelessness, complicated abuse survivor navigating safety in thorny ways, bittersweet ending
title is insp. by margaret atwood’s poem “eurydice” - “even in this domain of hunger…you hold love in your hand, a red seed you had forgotten you were holding”
~
“You look cold, honey.”
The voice is low and soft and startles Déomas out of his stupor. He’s been huddled in this alley for a while, trying to bear out the cold of the crisp autumn day behind the bakery. The stones in the wall are warmed by the crackling oven within and it provides a meager sliver of solace. Déomas’ clothing, bright and thin and clinging in all the right ways, isn’t exactly sturdy.
Normally, Déomas somewhat admires the season, with the bursts of rich color - crimson and yellow and burnt orange - on the foliage, the bright roses in the cheeks of passersby, the candied apples glistening and spiced chestnuts roasting in the stalls of street vendors. 
But the season is less…cheerful for an urchin such as Déomas. A streetwalker. The vendors keep their eyes on him when he walks down the street with sharp suspicion - with good reason, Déomas has pilfered food for survival many a time. Can’t blame them for protecting their wares from wandering hands. 
A principle Déomas cannot afford to adopt.
He’s been trying to avoid…this. Not in the mood to suck cock or spread his thighs, doesn’t have the fucking heart to coo platitudes at some bastard with loose coins as he ruts between Déomas’ legs or down his throat or into Déomas’ clever, coaxing hand. What he’s in the mood for very rarely matters where Déomas is concerned but he’s tired. 
Still…it’s only going to get colder and he’s shivering. So he tries to glance up through his curls with some artfulness, to let the weary heaviness of his lids lend him some allure. Tries to lick his cracking lips moist, draw attention to their plump shape (and away from his cherry-red nose, runny, fuck, he’s catching ill). 
It’s…not what he expected. Usually, the men who seek out boys like him in dark alleyways are a little older, all swagger and spoiled whim, wanting their bored egos stroked. 
The creature standing over him looks more like Déomas than the men he services. He’s willowy, young, perhaps in the middle of his thirties, and he’s beautiful. Golden-brown skin, heavy-lidded amber eyes, a halo of tawny curls, his mouth held soft and smiling. To Déomas’ first glance, he seems like a statue - graceful and poised and…sad, his russet shawl blowing around his face in the chilly breeze. 
Still…appearances can be deceptive and very often are. Déomas flutters his lashes in a manner that will make the man think about all the ways Déomas would look pretty at his feet. Purses his lips pathetically and clutches his own patchy cloak around himself. 
“Y-Yes, good sir. It’s…quite a hard night…”
Perhaps this man wants pathetic - Déomas can do pathetic. He tries to look small and helpless, huddled against the wall. 
The man’s breath doesn’t catch, he doesn’t wet his mouth with his tongue, doesn’t swallow in wanton excitement. Instead, he kneels right there on the cobblestones, seemingly heedless of the cold mud seeping into his trousers, and extends a hand. 
“Oh, it is, truly. What do you say to the idea of going somewhere a little warmer, out of the chill?”
So he wants to play a savior. Déomas can work with that. Men have paid less of a price for the pleasure of his company. He slides his fingers delicately into the outheld palm - it’s soft to touch, warm, shocking against the iciness of Déomas’ flesh. 
He allows the man to draw him to his feet, hiding his weak-kneed wobble (gods, how long has it been since he’s eaten?) by leaning suggestively, tripping, against the man’s side. Déomas isn’t groped, does not have ale-laden breath panted against his neck, doesn’t even get an arm looped possessively around his waist for his trouble. He just…smiles, warm and pleasant, steadies Déomas on his feet. Odd. 
“What might I call you, goodsir?” Déomas purrs, wide-eyed, demure and polite, as he follows the man down the street like a lost kitten. Ingénue orphan - poor helpless whore, doesn’t want to be trapped in this profession on such a cold night. 
“Cassander, but you can call me Cass.” 
His voice is a burr, rich and heavy and murmurous, a clean brook tumbling over old stones. 
Déomas thinks that this man - Cass - will lead him to an inn. Perhaps a tavern, if he’s feeling cheap, where he can fuck Déomas semi-privately in a back booth as he nurses an ale. Instead, he draws Déomas into the very bakery he was huddling behind. 
Déomas is too startled to really register it all, pulled along, windswept into the whole thing. Sat down at a little one-legged table, in the corner by the window, draped with a lace tablecloth and a beeswax candle. Served two mugs of piping cider, spicy and sweet and heavenly against Déomas’ half-numb palms. 
He sips it, dizzy with the wave of warmth, the glare of candlelight, the murmurous buzz of chatter, and is surprised it isn’t mulled. Men usually try to get him drunk when they buy things for him. But even without the bitter punch of alcohol, the fruity beverage warms him right to his core, the apple-taste sinking into his very bones and thawing something tight and frozen there. 
This Cass is still smiling, chatting softly to the baker’s apprentice, who is laying out a plate- no, a platter of sticky buns. Melted brown sugar and glazed pecans, all clumped over flaky golden dough fresh from the hearth and steaming in their dish, fogging up the frosty window glass. 
Very stupidly, Déomas sort of wants to cry. 
Cass pushes bun after bun upon him, coaxing him to eat his fill, to wash it all down with more sweet cider. Doesn’t speak much, except to make a soft, idle little comment about the fading sun upon the cobblestones or a customer with an excitable daughter. He almost doesn’t care that it surely, surely, comes with a steep price. Nobody is kind to Déomas without expecting something in return. 
But he hasn’t had a hot meal in ages. He’s too exhausted, too sore inside and out, too shivery still at every gust of air from the bakery door swinging open and shut for patrons, to mind it too much. Perhaps Cass will want Déomas to lick his cock and call him master or daddy or baby. Maybe he’ll want to share Déomas’ talents with a friend. He’s had worse for less. And, oddly, he is grateful. He might not even mind so much, being a good little whore for someone so pretty and graceful. 
He’s so enraptured by his meal, fingers sticky with syrup, belly full and heavy, mouth singing with spices, he only takes idle note of the coin Cass lays on the table. It isn’t much - the bakery caters to those with little money to spare, after all - but eyeing the man’s clothing, Déomas has discerned that this man isn’t wealthy. 
It’s hidden well, but his clothing has been mended, again and again, stitched in places where the fabric has been torn or worn through with holes. The red of his shawl has taken on a faded hue. And his makeup…
Oh, he must be going slow. Déomas somehow failed to notice, a combination of the dim evening light and his own dizzy hunger, but the man has a little cream spread over his skin. Not everywhere, just…places. The corner of his mouth (a little too pink to be quite natural, now Déomas thinks of it), under his eyes, along the slender column of his throat. Hiding bruises. The lids of his eyes are tinted with a soft, pearly powder, and his cheeks - which Déomas thought were flushed by the cold - are rouged. 
“Didn’t tell me you were a whore.”
Blunt, yes, but he’s just a little shocked it took him all of half an hour to figure it out. He ought to have recognized tart paint when he saw it - Déomas has often enough covered the handprints of grasping clients or the mark of some righteous citizen’s quick backhand.
Cass offers his same soft little smile. 
“You didn’t ask.”
Fuck. Déomas isn’t sure how to feel exactly but he leans back, crosses his arms tight across his chest, eyes narrowed. 
“So…just got out of the business and pitied the poor sluts who couldn’t climb their way free, is that it?”
Déomas shouldn’t be so fucking thorny. He winces as soon as he says it. Why is he such a bitch? He doesn’t back down though. His hackles are raised - from trusting little sex kitten to hissing alley-cat in moments. People in his line of work can’t afford to be philanthropists so he must…must be a favored courtesan of some pathetic man with a fat purse and a lonely wife. That’s got to be it, right? Déomas half-expects the aging whore across from him to spit back at him, maybe to spout some nauseating holier-than-thou platitude about seeing the light. 
Instead, Cass surprises Déomas once more by laughing. It’s not even sharp. Just…soft and amused and so sad, that sorrow which flows beneath all his grace and warmth like a dark river. 
“Not at all. I just thought you seemed cold, honey.”
Cass stands, brushing crumbs off his lap delicately, drawing his shawl up over his lovely halo of curls and fishes another few coins from his little drawstring purse, lays them before Déomas on the table with the empty dishes. 
“It’ll frost over tonight, I should think, so this is for a room down at the Bluebell. They don’t ask questions but the doors lock well and it’s clean, warm - this should buy you a night.” 
Still so patient, calm, measured. It makes Déomas feel a little cornered, like he wants to bolt, fidgeting in his chair, neck prickling, flushed and hot and sharp. He still feels like being a bit of a bitch because his belly is full and his holes are unfucked and he’s warm and untouched and none of this makes any sense.
“You’ll come visit me later, is that it? If you don’t have to go running off to your…paramour?” 
Drawled with a sneer - it’s shaky, choked, pathetic. He’s so tired of the game of it all and he won’t be caught by surprise by anyone, he won’t. 
Cass goes a little still. A shadow passes over his face, dark and horrible, his amber eyes glimmering with tears and for a moment he looks so miserable that Déomas feels ill. It passes and that placid, demure expression is back. Strained, now. Weary.
“No. I have…an appointment at the Dragon’s Head tavern, I’ll likely, uh, stay the night there.”
Oh.
Déomas flushes - this time with the hot stab of shame lancing through him. The whore tavern. Rough and seedy and a place someone like Déomas often finds himself. Not someone like this glowing, graceful creature. 
“Oh, I-“
“It’s okay, honey.” Cass interrupts softly. For a moment, it seems like he is going to reach out and touch Déomas but thinks better of it. Instead, he catches Déomas’ gaze and it’s like his eyes burn through the redhead, piercing his chest and his heart and deeper, deeper still. 
“Just…take care of yourself, okay? You deserve a night to sleep inside, away from the cold, without paying anything.”
Déomas wants to scoff, to protest that doesn’t. He really doesn’t. This whore doesn’t know him. 
He can’t say any of that with Cass’ sad, kind eyes on him. So, like a coward, he glances away. Cass doesn’t seem to fault him for that either, though, and just sighs. Not a sound of irritation, just…resignation. 
“It’s true. Whether you believe it or not.”
He’s gone before Déomas can retort, a flurry of cold wind and red shawl, into the evening. Déomas doesn’t watch him go, doesn’t look over his shoulder to watch Cassander glide quietly down the cold streets while Déomas sits in the bakery, safe and sound and alone. 
It isn’t true, he’ll tell himself, even as his fists clench so hard they tremble around enough money to buy him safety and privacy for a single night. He’s wrong about me - he doesn’t know me.
Yet, under all the tangle of frost-tipped thorns, a little hidden patch of Déomas’ tired, wounded heart melts and softens like snow under the morning sun. 
~
hope you enjoyed seeing our blorbos from our brains hang out 🥺❤️🥺
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