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heyyyharry · 4 years

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Daddy, I see a ghost

…in which Harry is sex-starved because their daughter keeps asking to sleep in their bed. (from the Flatmate Series)

Warning: SMUT (they fuck in his office)

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“Fucking finally!”

Harry had never bounced on to the bed so fast. He crawled to his wife, yanked the book out of her hand and pressed his mouth against hers before she could protest. Instead of shoving him off, she burst into giggles as his kisses trailed down her throat and he shoved his hands under her shirt, his cold palms roaming across her heated skin. She pressed her palms against his back, her legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer until he was practically on top of her. His mouth found hers again, needy and messy.

“Miss you,” he murmured against her lips.

She combed her fingers through his messy hair, relishing his rough yet intoxicating touch. “We’ve lived together for ten years, baby. How do you still miss me?”

He shook his head. “You know what I mean.” Then he pushed her– well, his shirt up, catching his breath at the sight of her perky breasts as if he was seeing them for the first time. He leaned in and took a nipple into his mouth.

Ever since they’d had Ria, they hadn’t had as much sex as they used to when it’d been just the two of them. It’d been torturing recently because their baby daughter kept asking to sleep in their bed. Three days ago, Ria’s friends’ brother had told the girls a ghost story and since then Ria had been afraid of sleeping alone. Tonight, Harry had stayed with her until she’d fallen asleep so he could have some time alone with Y/N afterwards.

“I miss fucking you everywhere in this flat,” he groaned as she pulled his shirt over her head, leaving her wearing only her soaked panties. They were kissing again as she tugged down his boxers, eager to get her hands on him.

“I miss that, too,” she panted, stroking him slowly as she sucked his bottom lip and slipped her tongue into his mouth. “Do whatever you want to me. Whatever you want.”

Her words drew a rumble from his throat as he slipped his hand between them to rub her clit. He was going nuts and he thought he could actually smell her. His balls felt so heavy he was afraid he would cum embarrassingly too fast. He had to make this worthwhile.

He held her thighs apart, breaking the kiss to slide down and leaving pecks on the stretch marks on her stomach, making his way down to her cunt. He loved everything about her body. He wanted her always. Every single part of her.

Her hips jolted when his lips met her clit over the fabric, and his ego grew, missing how responsive she was. He’d missed making her feel like she’d lost control of her own body, like he knew it better than she did, and sometimes it was true. He knew she couldn’t make herself cum the way he could because she’d also got him in the palm of her hand.

“You smell so good.” He hummed, glancing up to find her watching him with half-opened eyes, her lips parted as she breathed harshly. He pushed her panties aside and licked her once, causing her hips to buck against his mouth but he drew back and held down her hips. “So eager for me,” he teased. “Can’t wait to put my cock–”

A knock on the door caused them both to freeze.

“Daddy! Mummy!”

“Shit!” Harry plunged out of bed and immediately tugged his boxers back on as Y/N grabbed his shirt, put it on, and rushed to the closet to get her bottom.

“Daddy! Mummy! Please let me in!”

“I’m coming, baby!” Harry bolted to the door, swung it open and locked Ria in his arms just in time tears started to spill from her eyes. She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. Sighing, he picked her up and carried her to the bed where Y/N (now fully dressed) was still blushing and panting as she forced a small smile at their daughter.

“Hey, love, Daddy got you,” he whispered and lay their little girl down between him and his wife. “Mummy is also here. You’re safe.”

“You left me…”

Harry felt a jab in his stomach and exchanged guilty looks with Y/N. “I’m sorry, baby,” he told Ria. “I was with you but then...I heard Mummy call for me and had to go check on her.” He hated lying to his little girl but he couldn’t tell her the truth.

Ria turned to look at Y/N, her glossy green eyes widened with concern. “The ghost hurt Mummy?”

“No.” Y/N shook her head as she smiled. “I also missed Daddy.”

Ria pouted and looked back at Harry, whose head was propped on his hand as he considered her taut face. “I think the ghost is scared of Daddy,” she said.

“There’s no ghost in our house, baby,” Harry said, brushing a lock of hair off her forehead. “But if there was, Daddy would chase the ghost away. Nothing is allowed to scare my ladies.”

“Are you...” Ria ventured. “Are you a ghost hunter?”

“That’s right. Ghosts see me and they run away.”

Assured by that answer, Ria relaxed as she snuggled closer to Harry. It didn’t take too long for her to drift off.

Harry gave Y/N a regretful look, which she returned with pursed lips and a shrug.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” she sing-songed and kissed him once on the mouth. From that grin on her face, she knew he’d called him that for a purpose. He rolled his eyes in frustration and flopped back on to his pillow, an arm wrapped around his daughter and his wife. He watched them until sleep folded over him.

The next day, Harry got stuck at the office after almost everyone had left. It was actually a choice since he was the boss and no one but himself could make him stay overtime.

His mum and sister would always reprimand him. Y/N, however, never complained. They were as crazy about their jobs as they were about each other, so somehow they still managed to be good parents, maintain a happy marriage and run their own companies.

Whenever one of them had to work overtime at the office, the other would go home early to be with Ria, and when the busy one got home, their daughter would be asleep and they would spend the rest of the night together. But Harry knew when he got home tonight, he would either sleep alone while Y/N slept in Ria’s room, or he would find both of them in his and Y/N’s bed. He loved his daughter, but not being able to have alone time with his wife was killing him.

“You’re a good dad. You’re a good dad. You’re a good dad,” he would tell his reflection every morning in the past week after a cold shower. Thank God, he could still rely on his hands to get himself off and release some tension, but it didn’t feel the same without Y/N. Being sex-starved had somehow aged him in reverse. He probably masturbated more than he’d ever done since he’d discovered the art of masturbation.

While drafting an email, he heard his assistant’s voice saying goodbye to someone before she left.

That was weird. He’d just dismissed her because she’d been the only one here beside him. Who had she said goodbye to?

There were three knocks on the door.

“Come in,” he said.

The door creaked open. He leaned back into his swivel chair, feeling his smile reaching his eyes.

“Can I get you anything, Boss?” Y/N asked, one hand on the handle, the other on her hip. She was wearing a black trench coat and high heels, her hair in a bun. He bit his pen and beckoned to her. When she stepped in, shut the door and locked it with a click, his heart leapt in anticipation.

He pushed his chair back to make room for her between his legs and the desk. She sat on the edge of it, spreading her legs and revealing her thigh-high stockings with garters to hold them up. He wet his lips as she flicked a finger, motioning him to come closer. Without hesitation, he wheeled his chair forward, gripping her thighs and leaning down to kiss each one. Her chest was at his eye level, rising and falling with each shaky breath.

“Where’s my other baby girl?” he asked, his arms resting on either side of her as he nuzzled the exposed skin of her chest. She leaned back to give him more access to her throat.

“She's at home,” she murmured. “Maisie is watching her.”

He nodded once. His breath caught as he unbuttoned her coat and pushed it off her shoulders. She now sat on his desk in satiny black lingerie which included the bustier that emphasized her cleavage. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as she tugged him closer. He cupped her bum with both hands and pressed a kiss to one of her nipples over the bra. She shivered, her fingertips digging into his back.

He brought up one hand to fondle her other breast, glancing up to meet her lazy eyes. “I cannot believe,” he sighed, “that you left our daughter with your sister so you could come to my office and distract me from work.”

She tilted her head to the side, blinking innocently at him.

The Y/N at the beginning of their relationship would be speechless when he talked like that, but the Y/N who was his wife wouldn’t let him have the upper hand.

“I’m sorry. I can leave,” she pouted as she cupped his face. “I would never want to come between my husband and his work.”

He gave a smirk and kissed her thumb as she brushed it across his lips. He circled his arms around her waist and dragged her in, her core against his chest. “Liar. You’re not sorry.”

She ignored his remark and turned to his laptop sitting right beside her. “Why don’t you finish your email?” she said, grinning at him. “I can wait.”

He opened his mouth to object, but he was curious to know what she was up to. She nodded her head toward the laptop, telling him to go ahead. With an eyebrow arched, he reached for the keyboard at the same time she unclasped her bra. He sat frozen in his seat as she shrugged it off, and tossed it somewhere on the floor.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she said and released her hair, letting the curls bounce down to her shoulders and bare breasts. “It’s just hot in here. You should fix the air-co–”

He shut his laptop before she could finish and suddenly stood up and pushed his lips to hers. He cupped her face with both hands to deepen the kiss while she was already working on his belt. He groaned into her neck before kissing his way down to her chest, sucking her nipple hungrily as she unbuttoned his shirt to feel his skin on hers.

“Someone might walk in,” he hissed, drawing a nervous laugh from his wife as she pushed him back to kiss and lick the swallows tattooed on his pecs.

“We should stop,” she taunted, grinding her hips. “Or do you want us to get caught? You want people to see how you fuck me, don’t you? Show them what a good husband you are. How good you fuck your wife.”

He cut her off with another sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. “Fuck, I fucking love it when you talk dirty to me.”

She nearly fell forward when he suddenly broke the kiss. His eyes didn’t leave hers, not even when he sat back in his chair and spread her legs apart. He took no time to get rid of her garters and stockings, and once she sat completely naked on his desk, he caught a glimpse of shyness rising above her confidence.

He cracked a smirk. Her stomach clenched when she gasped and flinched. Fuck, she was so responsive. He managed to compose himself as his gaze fastened on her glistening pussy.

“Stop.” He froze at the command and gaped at her. “I mean...stop s-staring at it.” She stifled a laugh, blushing with her whole body.

Something never changed.

Giving a nod, he removed his eyes from her core, but then slipped his hand between them and touched her there instead. She jolted, letting out a startled gasp. Without breaking eye contact, he dipped his fingers, now coated with her juices, into his mouth and sucked them clean.

A blush crept up to her face as she giggled, covering her eyes. He pulled her hand off and kissed it. “Are you shy, Y/N?” He acted surprised, and from the way her face scrunched, he guessed she half-wanted to slap him, half-wanted to kiss him. “Where’d your arrogance go?”

“Shut up.”

“Maybe we should stop,” he told her what she’d previously told him. However, right before he got a chance to relish his revenge, she stuck her hand between them and started rubbing herself. His mouth fell open, mirroring her expression.

She was panting and moaning as her fingers moved faster on her clit. She was so wet the sound made him go frenzy. He decided to not stop her. He let her have her fun but didn’t intend to just sit back and watch. He leaned in and kissed her neck to encourage his wife.

“That’s right, baby. Fuck yourself on my desk,” he whispered in her ear before sinking back into his chair. He pulled out his hard cock and started stroking it. Her eyes went wide. She moaned, taking in the sight of him pleasuring himself while watching her getting herself off. Her free hand was gripping her thigh because he wasn’t touching her anymore.

“Don’t–” she blurted, her eyelids fluttering. “I need...Please…”

She didn’t have to finish the sentence because he knew what she was begging for. She didn’t want him to cum first. She wanted him to finish inside her. After a whole week of fucking his own hands, he was confident that he wasn’t going to cum so easily by just masturbating, but if she wanted to play this game, he could pretend to play along.

He let out a gasp and moved his hand faster, fucking into it. He guessed he’d underestimate her effect on him, because as soon as he saw how wet her fingers were, an electric current swept right through him and he almost shot his load right there.

He could see the relief on her face when he slowed down and eventually let go of his cock. He was leaking so much precum that his dick was wet enough for him to just slide right into her.

“Get your hand off,” he demanded and she painfully withdrew her hand from her reddened pussy. He wasted no time to throw her legs over his shoulders and fasten his mouth on her clit. He ate her pussy like it was his last meal on death row, hands under her thighs holding her in place so she wouldn’t move too much when she got sensitive.

It didn’t take him too much effort to get her off because she was already on the edge when he started lapping at her cunt. As soon as he slipped two fingers into her and started fucking her, she started shaking and pulling the hair at the back of his head, her hips bucking against his face but he didn’t stop until she finished.

She was still shaking when he rose from his chair. Despite her euphoric daze, her first instinct was to reach for his open shirt and pull him in, pushing their mouth together again so she could taste herself on his tongue. They kissed clumsily as he stroked his cock a few times and positioned it at her entrance.

“Do you need a break?” he breathed against her lips. She shook her head, unable to get a single word out. He smirked and kissed her cheek. “Guide me in.”

She nodded fast, reaching between them. When her fingers closed around his erection, he groaned so embarrassingly loud that made her burst into soft giggles. She rubbed the head of his cock against her clit before pushing it into her cunt. She was so tight it felt as if she was sucking him in. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as they exchanged open-mouthed kisses. One of his hands was gripping her bum, the other on her breast, teasing her nipple as he pushed slowly until he was all the way in. They gasped at the same time.

“How are you still so tight?”

The way she blushed at his remark made his heart go boom. He couldn’t believe after all those years they’d been together he was still getting butterflies. They stayed still for a moment. He kept kissing her neck, and she got impatient and started moving her hips, causing him to groan.

“Give me a second. You’re squeezing me…” He laughed lowly and started with steady thrusts. She moaned his name and nibbled his ear. “Shit,” he hissed, nosing at her throat. “If I cum right now, will you go home and file a divorce?”

“Probably,” she giggled, bracing her hands on his shoulders as they moved together.

He bit his lip, his fingers digging into her bum as he thrust faster. “I’ll try to save our marriage then.”

“I love you,” she smiled.

“I love you, too,” he returned, his voice strained.

With another kiss, he held her hips and pulled out. She was so tight her body fought to keep him in. They both gasped when his cock sprung free from her core. She blinked at him, confused as he stepped back.

“Get off the desk,” he ordered.

She was so aroused she didn’t even question. He watched her slide off the desk, her legs wobbly as he grabbed her hips and spun her around. She braced her hands on the table, arching her bum toward him. He spanked her before positioning his cock at her hot entrance again. Without warning, he slipped back in and started fucking her again. She sobbed, reaching for his hand on her hip and bringing it to her breast. He squeezed it, pushing her body up until her back was flat against his chest. He could get deeper in this position but at least he didn’t see her face. He would always cum faster if he could see her face while they fucked.

They were a moaning mess now. Anyone could hear them as soon as they stepped out of the lift, and at this point, Harry didn’t give a fuck. He’d been so frustrated that if she’d asked him to fuck her in the lobby, he would probably have done it, too.

“Harry…”

“Mmm,” he hummed in her ear. She didn’t tell him what it was that she wanted. Instead, she took his hand from her chest and brought it to her neck. He could just cum right then. He squeezed his fingers slightly and felt a cry grumble in her throat. She let him fuck her with his hand around her neck until her arms gave in and she collapsed on her chest, holding the edge of the table to keep herself from slipping off.

He held the back of her neck to keep her down, his hips slapping against her bum. He moved his hands down her spine and gave her butt cheek another smack which made her pussy clench around his cock. He gathered her hair into his fist and fucked her so hard the content on his desk rattled. His pencil holder tipped over and hit the floor, sending his pencils flying and rolling across the room.

“T-That could’ve b-been your laptop,” she managed to speak and he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. From the way she was squeezing him, he knew she was close.

She slipped her hand down under, but he swatted it away and started stroking her clit as he bent forward to whisper in her ear, “Only I get to make you come. Do you understand?”

“Yes, s-sir.”

With that, her walls closed around him. He clasped her shoulder and tugged her upright. She’d started rubbing her nipples, back arched, mouth open and panting. Bloody hell, she was so beautiful. He thrust up into her, matching her rhythm, and his fingers rubbed frantically over her clit, desperately coaxing her towards orgasm.

“Oh, oh God! Harry!” she cried out his name as she came, hips jerking, driving herself down on his cock. He grabbed her chin, tilted her head back and brushed his lips against hers. His breath caught at her slick on his fingers and how wet and tight she was when she came. The room smelled thick, like sex and sweat, and them. He couldn’t hold it any longer. His hands went tight on her hips as he held her still and thrust up and into her, hard and fast.

“Come in me. I need it,” she whimpered into his ear. He couldn’t breathe, grunting unintelligible words as he chased that feeling. With one last hard thrust, he came, pulsing into her with a groan that started as an attempt at her name. She sobbed, arching her neck to meet his lips and kissing him deeply. His hands were shaking as he held the edge of the desk, catching his breath. The thunder of his heartbeat was all he could hear. Her head fell back on his shoulder, her eyes were shut. Harry felt a bit smug at how dazed she seemed.

He stayed inside her for a few moments of silence, just softy kissing her lips until she broke the silence with a satisfied laugh, her breath hot against his face. “Should we thank the ghost?”

He rolled his eyes, laughing breathlessly. “Fuck the ghost.”

“Thank God, you’re home!” Maisie said as soon as Harry and Y/N entered the flat, holding hands. His shirt was untucked and her hair was probably a mess because he’d pushed her against the wall of the lift and kissed her wild. If Maisie noticed, she didn’t point it out.

“What’s wrong, Mai? Where’s Ria?” Y/N asked.

Her sister was just about to speak when a little figure dashed out of the kitchen and flew straight toward them. Ria, who was wearing a cooking pot on top of her head and holding her toy gun, crashed into Y/N and wrapped both arms around her legs.

Maisie let out a sigh, “She’s been hiding in the kitchen with her ‘weapon’. She said the ghost is only afraid of Harry.”

“Daddy is a ghost hunter, aunt Maisie!” Ria said.

Y/N took the pot off her daughter’s head and got down on her knees in front of the little girl, giving her a reassuring smile. She knew there was no point trying to convince Ria that there was no ghost, so she said, “The ghost cannot hurt you, baby.”

“Why not? I’m so little!”

“Yes, you are, but–” Harry also got down on his knees and pinched her cheek “–you’re my daughter, aren’t you? The ghost cannot hurt you knowing I would destroy it if it tried.”

Ria pursed her lips as she considered him for a moment. “Did Mummy help you hunt the ghost? Is that why you came home late and your hair and clothes are messy?”

Harry and Y/N exchanged bashful looks. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N could see her sister trying not to laugh. Her face heated even though she tried to remain composed. Harry was much better at concealing his embarrassment. In fact, he looked almost indifferent when he told Ria, “That’s right. We told the ghost to never come back here again. The ghost was so scared and had to apologize for scaring my little girl.”

“No wonder Mummy dresses like a spy!” Ria said, indicating Y/N’s trench coat. This time, Maisie let out a snort and Y/N shot her a warning glare.

Harry laughed and tousled Ria’s hair. “Do you still want to sleep with Daddy and Mummy tonight?”

Ria thought for a moment before shaking her head, schooling her face with a determined look. “No. I should practice sleeping by myself,” she said. “I want to be a ghost hunter, too.”

“You will, baby, you will.” Y/N kissed her daughter’s cheek and thanked Maisie for babysitting Ria.

“I’ll tuck her in. You should take a shower and get some rest,” Maisie said. “Come on, Ria. Kiss your parents good night.”

“Good night, Mummy. Good night, Daddy. I love you!” Ria kissed both of them and whispered in Harry’s ear, loud enough for Y/N to hear. “I won’t tell anyone you’re a ghost hunter.”

And then she ran for the stairs, holding her toy gun by her side. Maisie laughed and followed Ria.

Once they were gone, Harry wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist from behind, his mouth at her ear. “Second round in the shower?”

She spun around and put her arms around his neck. “How can I say no to our fearless ghost hunter?”

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ootori-sibs · 4 years

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Kyoya's second shot

Episode ten: Tamaki makes a discovery!

Tw: self harm (mentioned and implied) starving (mentioned)

The next session was more peaceful, he didn't have to talk to any guests, he could just watch Tamaki, whilst stirring his coffee lazily. Tamaki's way of acting evil was incredibly satisfying to watch; he kept pressing gentle kisses to the prop skull, running his tongue against his perfect teeth, the way he purred his words towards the girls- playing up his natural accent to make the ladies swoon, he drew his words out, lounging about in lazy regality. Kyoya had no idea Tamaki could do that, it was incredible… nearly enough to make him drool if he was honest. He wanted nothing but to sit there under Tamaki and let him woo him like that… but that could never happen. Kyoya looked at the girls, the guests, laughing and giggling and watching Tamaki with wide eyes… and he was consumed by jealousy. How dare they, how dare they get to enjoy so much attention from Tamaki, whilst Kyoya has to sit there, just wishing. They're so horrid, so vapid, they're worse than Haruhi, they don't even deserve his hatred.

Oh. The coffee stirrer had shattered in his hand, he growled under his breath and pushed the cup away from him. He turned to his laptop for comfort, opening the finances, he's not doing anything, just toying with the graphs and such. He takes out his phone as well, opening the council group chat.

Shadow king: Seika, I need you to do something. Now.

Woman#2: Ooh, someone's pissy, what happened?

Shadow king: That is irrelevant, just do something.

Hurt her.

Woman#2: You want me to hurt her? How? Are you sure?

Shadow king: I don't care how. Just do it.

He put his phone back in his bag, hands shaking from the anger. He wanted to leave, he felt angry, he felt he was going to scream. He took his glasses off, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair, deep breaths, he just has to take deep breaths.

"Senpai?" Haruhi's soft voice cut through his calming breaths, sparking the rage in him again, he looked at her, putting his glasses back on. She looked worried, a soft smile on her face, she had no idea how much she was hated, "are you alright?"

He tenses up, did he have the strength to lie? He felt like punching her in the face here and now, but he knew he couldn't do that. He was tapping his nails on the table, trying not to tell her to fuck off, his lack of ease was clear to her, as he gritted his teeth and forced a smile. "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be? I'm just sorting out the finances right now, did you need anything Haruhi?"

She paused, sensing the danger though being unable to see why, her smile turned to a frown, "I… no, I just wanted to check on you, I'll… go back to my table now." She took a few steps back before turning and heading back to her customers, she should have been focusing on them anyway. Kyoya felt a little worried about how she'd clearly noticed something, wondering if she realised how much he hated her.

He couldn't focus on anything, nothing at all, so instead he took out his notebook, beginning to doodle. It was a human, it had sharper features then a human; a pronounced nose, a tiny neck, very sharp shoulder blades- Haruhi was softer than that, was he drawing Haruhi? He fixed the shoulder, smudging the offending ink with his finger and rounding off the shoulders. He focused on her hair, it was similar to Tamaki's, but uglier, flatter, brown. Her expression was one of disdain, one Kyoya had never seen on her face before, she was disgusted, like he knew she would be when she realised what he'd been doing- if she realised, commoners were never smart. Was the school badge on the wrong side? He always struggled with mirroring, it was hard to remember. Her eyes were bleeding silver from his pencil, he would have grabbed a pen but he had no blue, he didn't want to touch his red, it was the only red pen he had- Haruhi didn't deserve it.

She was disgusting, selfish, she didn't deserve Tamaki, she was just some dumb commoner… commoner, commoner, he said that word a lot, but Yuuichi had said it was regular- just regular people, they were the minority in real life. It was a strange feeling, they all had so much power yet there were so much more commoners in the world, it was strange, it was… odd. His breaths shuddered as he wrote words, the same word, over and over and over and over again around his sketch.

Commoner.

She's a commoner, and he hates her.

The session ended after a while, and the tables were pushed together, guess Tamaki had ordered a meeting. The others had gone to get dressed, so Kyoya hesitantly followed. When he got to his corset, he really didn't want to leave it, besides, the others hardly ever do any inventory so it's not like they'd notice it missing. He toyed with the tightness for a little, before slipping his shirt and blazer over it, something sparking in his mind as he put his tie on. An idea that led him to pull said tie as tight as it could possibly go… then loosen it a little- a tie isn't as safe as a corset apparently.

He took his place at the table, opening his laptop and closing his book, "so, what's this meeting about then Tamaki?"

Tamaki paused, looking unsure for a moment, there was something about how he'd looked at Kyoya that made him suddenly very uneasy, "well, just about everything and anything, just thought I'd switch it up, cause I uh- I wanna do something on Friday!" He smiles, clearly having just made that up, "care to give us a finance report?"

Now that was something Kyoya could do, he nodded, opening the finances graphs and charts and tables. He took out a remote for the projector that sat in the ceiling, waiting until Tamaki got the whiteboard out for him, then he projected his screen onto it. "So," he actually smiled, he loved talking about numbers, "we're actually doing rather well, profits are up and I have to say welldone, all of you are contributing to the profits equally, although of course, Tamaki is still number one." He pulled up a chart depicting each hosts individual profits, complete with images; obviously he'd manipulated the graphs, the twins were actually doing better than Tamaki by 2% but the graphs only purpose was was to make Tamaki feel good, and to hide the fact that Kyoya himself literally avoided hosting at all costs. The hosts seemed to enjoy the graph, though Haruhi had frowned, to which Kyoya nodded, "unfortunately, Haruhi has been slacking recently, is there a reason for this?"

All eyes were on Haruhi, and Kyoya felt incredibly vindicated by this. She paused, blinking in surprise, "well I don't think I was falling behind, I could've sworn I did more hosting then you have senpai…" Her tone was a pondering one, but Kyoya felt the rage spark up again.

"Well there's no need to be so rude about it," Kyoya glanced around, hand on his heart, maybe it was time to take a risk, "you've been awfully spiteful towards me lately and I'm not sure why, is something the matter Haruhi?" He kept his tone soft and almost hurt sounding, hand pressed against his head as the other loosely held the remote for the projector, he did his best to paint Haruhi as the aggressor- he could tell Tamaki was still too hurt from her distance on Sunday to stand up for her, but he looked torn, not sure who to believe. The twins glanced at each other, then between Kyoya and Haruhi, they'd been privy to the discussion that morning and were likely still hesitant. Honey and Mori were the wild card, Mori was unreadable as always but Honey looked sympathetic to Kyoya, and Kyoya felt a little spark of victory.

Haruhi stared across the table at him, trying to read him and failing, Kyoya was not going to let his guard down. So she sighed, "I haven't been rude to you senpai, you've just been jumpy, I even asked if you were alright this afternoon, remember?" Oh god, she was being honest, he wasn't sure how to combat honesty, unless he could twist her words into what he wanted…

"Haruhi, I'll be perfectly honest here, you should probably stop neglecting your duties. As I said this afternoon, I was too busy to converse with you, and you had clients anyway so you should have been at your table instead of bothering me with questions about whether there's anything wrong with me." He paused, taking a breath and letting it sink in, he was taking a huge, huge risk here, and he hoped it would pay off. The twins seemed to at least somewhat agree that Haruhi should have been doing his job, Honey seemed concerned about what was said, Mori was still unreadable, and Tamaki… Tamaki looked almost angry, but at what, Kyoya wasn't sure.

Haruhi was startled, "I… I didn't mean it like-"

Kyoya shut her up with a wave of her hand, "that doesn't matter Haruhi, what matters is that you left your station, and should pay more attention to your duties, are we in agreement?" She nodded and he smiled, changing the slide, "but yes, profits are up, even if the recent theme cost quite a lot, namely in the diamonds for Tamaki's prop skull," he glances down at the king, seeing Tamaki's smile made him feel fuzzy inside, he's so glad these idiots don't think about things for more than three seconds.

But then Tamaki spoke, "oh, about today's theme, I made sure to put all the costumes on the hangers when you were all setting up the table… Do you remember where you put your corset, Kyoya?" Oh god, oh fuck, Kyoya instantly glanced away, hand going to his abdomen, feeling the bones of the corset through his shirt and blazer.

"Well I-..."

Hikaru snickered, holding in a laugh, "did you keep it on? Couldn't you get it off?"

Karou joined in at that, chuckling softly, "like when you took too long this morning? Were you actually just struggling?"

Kyoya felt his face go red, and was glad of the makeup, he frowned and glared over their shoulders, "that's… that's not why I-"

"So you did keep it on?" Honey spoke up, tilting his head, smiling, "but for a different reason?"

Tamaki sighed, "aww Kyoya, I offered you help you if you got stuck, there's no shame in it." The tone he used, it was one you'd use for a jumpy, frightened animal- he was offended but he couldn't say it didn't sooth him slightly. He also felt the idea of Tamaki helping him with the corset was certainly someone that made him feel fuzzy but he was too tired to protest too much. He just sighed.

The meeting was cut short a little, Kyoya wasn't entirely sure what happened, he remembers the twins did a talk about the costumes they have for the themes lined up, and Honey gave feedback on the cakes he had ordered… but Kyoya was a little fuzzy through the whole thing, maybe the corset and the combo was a little too much. He could glance back down at his notebook to clarify that he was taking notes, though it was a larger font.

16:26 - Clothes look good, cake was dry...

It trailed off, and Kyoya's face feels hot, he's dizzy, and feels like he's so close to passing out. He closed his eyes and felt cold fingers against his skin, opening his eyes he saw Tamaki carefully untying the ribbons of his corset for him, his eyes were full of concern, "Kyoya… this is way too tight… how could you breathe?"

"Hm… couldn't…" Kyoya's words were slurring, god, he really was about to pass out.

Tamaki's eyes flickered up to Kyoya's face, noticing how clouded his eyes are and sighing, "oh no…" he reaches up, loosening Kyoya's tie for hum, their faces were so close, and Kyoya wondered if Tamaki could feel the heat from his face, "you tied your tie too tight too… please don't tell me it was on purpose…" he looked at Kyoya with those big doe eyes that Kyoya can't resist, and something in Kyoya just breaks. He's crying now.

Shocked, Tamaki pulls him into an embrace, just letting him cry, "oh… oh Kyoya… why? Why would you do that to yourself? Does this mean you lied about the reason for your starving too? Is this why you've been so antsy?" Kyoya didn't answer, he was sobbing now, the floodgates were open, there was no moving until he was done. Tamaki let him for now, a lot of things probably making sense in Tamaki's mind, he shifted so Kyoya and he were both more comfortable. The curtains parted slightly and Kyoya couldn't see who it was but Tamaki snapped, "hey! Don't look! Let him have privacy, just go home." Kyoya appreciated Tamaki caring so much for his privacy but felt a little bad at intruding on his.

Tamaki cradled him softly, rocking back and forth as Kyoya sobbed in his arms, Kyoya felt awful, absolutely horrible, he had been hurting himself, he had and that was awful, he had upset Tamaki, he upset his darling best friend and crush by letting him find out about the self harm. He was a horrible friend, he should have hidden it better, god he was terrible…

"Kyoya," Tamaki hummed Kyoya's name, pushing back slightly to look Kyoya in the eyes, wiping his teeths gently, "you know you can talk to me about anything right? You're my best friend and I love you, you're very important to me and I don't want to see you so hurt. Take care of yourself, I know it's probably hard, but just try your best, ok?" He smiled softly at him, his hand on Kyoya's cheek, Kyoya's own hand came up and touched Tamaki's, his eyes were wide and he couldn't help but smile. Tamaki's so wonderful, so brilliant, Kyoya loved him with every inch of his being, Kyoya simply adored him. "Promise me I won't ever see you so hurt again?"

Kyoya just nodded, he would hide it better next time, he wouldn't let Tamaki see even the idea of Kyoya being hurt, he hated himself for how he'd upset Tamaki- he wouldn't let it happen again. Tamaki had smiled and stood up, helping Kyoya up before fully undoing the corset, letting it fall to the floor. Kyoya felt a shiver run down his spine and Tamaki gasped, "oh you must be so cold! Here, let me help you with your shirt!" He bent down and buttoned Kyoya's shirt back up, humming a sweet little melody, one that made Kyoya's heart soar like a bird. He stood and put a gentle hand on Kyoya's shoulder, "I'll see you tomorrow mon ami, take care of yourself."

Kyoya was silent on the way home, his bodyguards couldn't get a word out of him, his fingers drummed on the cover of his black book, he wanted to write, but he didn't want to have to get his pen out of his bag. They got home eventually and Kyoya stormed up the driveway and into the mansion, he practically ran upstairs, slamming the door to his room the moment he entered it. He threw his bag at the table, before following it and kneeling down, placing his book down and opening it.

17:56 - Tamaki realised why I had the corset so tight, he helped me take it off, his hands are so soft. He knows about the self harm, I promised I wouldn't let him see it again but it's too late: he knows, he knows, he knows, he knows…

#tamakyo #ouran high school host club #kyoyassecondshot #kyoya ootori #tamaki souh #haruhi fujioka #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin #hikaru and kaoru #mitsukuni haninozuka #takashi morinozuka #Second

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angelguk · 5 years

Text

» in your arms tonight - jeongguk scenario

Jeon Jeongguk - BTS

words - 5.2k

genre - college!au, smut, established relationship, domestic!au, drabble

warnings - oral sex (fem and male receiving) / fingering / riding / nipple play / edging + orgasm denial / unprotected sex / switch!jeongguk / dom!reader / gukkie finds out he has a new kink ( or fetish man idk) / this is mostly soft so don’t expect some hardcore bdsm / this was meant to be a drabble but clearly i have no idea what that word means (5k words im really,,,,,,)

soundtracks - beabadoobee, soren & dance with me (please listen to them, these songs sound like what falling in love feels like)

He heard the rush of water from the tap in the bathroom come to a halt, followed by the patter of your bare feet against the tiles as you searched for a towel to wipe your mouth with. Your movements were in time with the gentle patter of rain rushing from the skies above. The sound did something to his heart, a wave of contentment floating through his body as he wiggled in the bed sheets. He almost wanted to get up and join you but the ache in his legs from yesterday’s workout kept him cemented to the soft comforter beneath him. And the pillows smelt like you too – at least like your shampoo. It was peach or something and he couldn’t help but bury his nose into the fabric, eyes fluttering close.

The towel hit his head with a resounding thud.

“Yah! Are you not going to get up and brush your teeth?” You didn’t sound annoyed so Jeongguk didn’t retaliate, still enamoured by the way his bed smelled like you. But he did toss the towel into some corner of his room - he’d find it tomorrow morning.

“Later,” He whined instead, cracking open his eyes to find you standing at the door of his bathroom, one of his white t-shirts bellowing around your minute frame and a miffed frown on your face. It hid the shorts you had underneath but from where he was situated it looked like you were wearing nothing but his shirt. He didn’t expect the jump in his heart when that small realization hit him. “Come here.”

“Do I look like a dog to you?” You retorted, shutting the bathroom door as you moved forward, a small smile on your face. “Ordering me around with your stinky breath. Heathen.”

“Shut up, you know you like it.” He rolled back, pulling down the sheets he’d cocooned around himself so you climb in beside him. You rolled your eyes in response, tossing aside the pizza boxes Jeongguk had dumped on your side of the bed and clambering onto the mattress. The small act had his shirt raising up your bare thighs and oh – oh.

“You removed the shorts?” He asked, acutely aware of how his voice sounded constricted in his throat.

You hummed in response, collapsing beside his figure, the fabric of his shirt bunching around your waist as you did so, fulling exposing the little black underwear you had on. In a second, the sight that had Jeongguk’s heart thrumming against his chest and his blood flowing to places he was too tired to deal with, was gone – covered by the sheets he suddenly abhorred.

“Fuck.”

You tutted, shifting upright so you could grab the laptop perched precariously on his bedside table. “Nope, don’t you dare. You said you’re too exhausted for sex tonight.”

“I am!” He replied, writhing a little bit so the semi he was sporting could disappear. “You’re just doing that a purpose!”

“I did absolutely nothing.” But he didn’t miss the glimmer in your eyes when your said that, or the way the corners of your lips titled upwards in the smallest smirk.

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do,” You easily replied, fingers swiftly taping away at the keyboard. “Want to watch a movie?”

“Why not.” Hopefully that would distract him from the burning desire to fuck you into the mattress. As much as he wanted to, his thighs couldn’t take it – Hoseok had gone too rough on him at the gym yesterday and coupled with his training for baseball Jeongguk’s legs felt like absolute mush.

“We’re not watching a good one because I’m sick and tired of your commentary.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t have an artistic eye for cinematography,” He sharply retorted, delivering a poke to your waist. “Whiny baby.”

You snorted. “Me? The whiny baby in this relationship? Please go take a look in the mirror.” Jeongguk kicked you shin. “Aw! Fuck off! And it’s not just the cinematography you take a dig at everything – the character development, the plot line, the dialogue – do I need to go on?”

“You don’t get to say anything – you enjoyed Twilight.”

“Yeah when I was fourteen!”

“I saw you watching it last weekend when you were supposed to be studying.”

“Edward is a hot vampire. Like anyone can agree that Robert Pattinson looked good despite that terrible makeup.”

He huffed, raising a hand to ruffle through the soft chestnut strands sticking to his forehead. You reached out your own, fingers slipping through his own as your nails dragged across his scalp. He sighed into it, back arching slightly as you drew patterns on his skull, the feeling of your nails scraping against his skin send shock waves of pleasure through his system. “I don’t care if he was hot, the special effects for that movie were disgusting.” He let out a soft gasp that had your rubbing your thighs together, his eyes closed in pure bliss. “I thought you were Team Jacob.” His voice was husky, telling sign that you’d set him off once more.

“I’m Team I Would Like To Be Fucked Tonight.” You stated, blatantly ignoring the stink eye he shot your way. “But clearly that’s not on our agenda. Have you ever seen Vampires Suck?”

“Obviously not – it sounds horrendous.”

The laugh you let out made something twist in Jeongguk’s gut, a rush of disappointment radiating through him when you retracted your hand. It was bizarre to him, how much he craved your touch. Even the smallest of encounters left him breathless. For fuck’s sake you were just giving him a half-assed head massage and he was riled up again.

“Oh you’re going to hate it,” You replied, oblivious to the wanting look Jeongguk had on your face. The blue screen illuminated your features, eyes bright and sparkling with mischief as you searched up the terrible film. He couldn’t help but smile, a crushing urge to kiss your nose rising in his chest. Sometimes you were so cute and it made him feel like his heart was bursting.

“It’s so stupid but kind of funny at the same time? It’s like a badly made version of Twilight,” You continued, pulling it up on the screen.

“A badly made version of Twilight? Babe, Twilight was terrible, how much worse can it get?”

You beamed. “So much worse.”

“God the things I do for you,” He groaned, shoving his face into the pillows. To be honest Jeongguk didn’t care about what you were watching tonight. His body already felt heavy with sleep and he was most likely going to knock out as soon as the opening credits rolled in.

“Scoot stinky boy,” You commanded, sliding back down into the comforters with the movie loading on the screen. You grabbed a pillow, propping it underneath the device as you scuttled into Jeongguk’s space, your legs landing right above his.

He sniffled, pushing up the pillows with his head so he could get a better view of the screen, “I’m not stinky, you smell,” He countered, wiggling his legs until yours were intertwined with his and your bare thigh was pressed against his own.

Sometimes Jeongguk regretted wearing nothing but boxers to bed. Yeah it was more comfortable but fuck if it wasn’t annoying to have you so close and not have the energy to fuck you the way he wanted to.

“Phew what was that? Smells terrible in here, close your mouth.” Jeongguk wanted to kiss the smile off your face.

“Shut up the movie is starting,” He instead chose to say, trying to distract his mind from how warm you felt against him, how his skin literally tingled with every gentle graze of your skin against his own, and how his dick was starting to become hard again for the third time that night.

It took five minutes of the opening scene for Jeongguk to realise that this was going to be the worst thing he’d ever see with his own two eyes and for his persistent boner to deflate like a popped balloon.

“What the ever living fuck was that?”

You giggled, leaning over to place a finger on top of his pink lips, the action causing Jeongguk to subconsciously pout.

“Shh, Bella is saving Edward.”

“They covered his dick with a disco ball! Why is he stripping in Italy? Why are there fan girls smashing each other with garden tools? What’s with the girls in bikini’s dancing in a jello fountain? Y/N what is this?”

“A masterpiece,” You murmured, pressing a kiss on his check – one that had Jeongguk leaning in for another, preferably on his mouth but you pulled away, flicking him gently against his forehead. “Now shut it and watch the movie.”

“Fine,” He retorted but his mouth was open a second later, eyes already observing a fault in the way the movie was shot.

And that’s the way the rest of your Saturday night ensued, Jeongguk throwing comments that whole movie was a pile of shit while you defended it (and occasionally critiqued because god this movie was horrible). Somewhere along Jeongguk had found a way to envelop you in his arms, pulling you right against his bare chest. He’d slug one of his legs over yours, fully dwarfing you in his hold as he pressed his warm mouth against your neck. His fingertips followed next, idly drawing lazy patterns against your skin while his eyes stayed sharp on the scene. But the movie got boring for him quick, the jokes were sub-par and the style it was shot it physically hurt his soul.

It didn’t take long for his mind to digress, nerves picking up the warmth you were emanating in his arms. Or the way his shirt had ridden up your thigh once again and the only barrier between you and him was the fabric of your panties which was pressed right against his own thigh. And his boxers but that wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. He could slide his thigh in between your legs if he wanted too, he couldn’t help but think about that, dragging a finger against your neck.

The shiver that jerked through your body jostled your backwards, further into his arms until the familiar curve of your ass was pressed right against his crotch.

He forgot the movie was playing in an instant.

You felt his hands suddenly drop to your waist, grabbing at the fabric that had bunched up there, his grip firm as he ground into the curve of your ass. It didn’t take long for you to start dripping, the need for his touch already buzzing beneath your skin just from being near him. But you weren’t going to give in that easily, despite how good his felt against your ass or the little sighs he made as he grew harder by the second.

“Nope, no,” You yanked yourself free, immediately yearning for the feeling of him against you.

“Babe~” There was a nip at your neck, one that nearly had you melting right back into him.

“No – no. You said you were exhausted. Sleep.”

“I retract that statement. Please, fuck, I need you.”

“I can’t hear you over this funny joke,” You taunted, making a point to laugh loudly.

“That was terrible joke and you know it,” He replied, yanking your back into his chest. You whined, raising your fists against his broad chest. Your hands hit taunt muscle as Jeongguk crawled on top of you, pulling underneath his hulking figure.

“No – Jeongguk,” You wheezed out, a laugh stuck in your throat. “The laptop, you’re going to drop it-”

He grabbed it before it could descend to the floor and shatter. In an instance it was slammed shut, abruptly cutting off Bella’s scream, and Jeongguk tossed it back onto the stool it was previously perched on. When he returned his attention to you, you couldn’t help but squirm, a rush of wetness slipping from your pussy at the sight of his dark blown out eyes.

“I was watching the movie,” You said indignantly.

“We can finish it later,” He breezily replied, “Want you now.” The peck on your nose took your off guard but when he pulled away, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t use words to describe, you couldn’t help but grin.

“I don’t think you know what you do to me,” Jeongguk continued, a hand on your hip tugging you closer underneath him. You swung your legs over his waist, giving him the room to lean down and nudge his cock right against your wet clothed pussy. The sigh he gave at the contact made your stomach flutter with need. “Fuck, babe, you have no idea what you do to me. You’re always so fucking cute even when you’re talking shit.” A press of his lips against your forehead as his hips rolled into yours. You groaned at the movement, revelling in the weight of your boyfriend over you. “You talk back all the damn time and it just makes me so hard. Even when you know you’re wrong – and you’re always wrong.” Another roll of his hips, this time rougher, one that had your cunt dripping. You nearly smacked the side of his head for the backhanded compliment but the next thing that slipped from Jeongguk’s mouth had you halting. “I love that – I love you.”

“Fuck,” You whispered, hands finding themselves entangled in his hair. “Fuck, I love you too.”

He stuttered to a pause, cock still pressed against you, staring at you with wide eyes. “You – you don’t have to say it back, if you don’t mean it.”

“No, I want to. Wanted to for a while now and I mean it. Jeongguk I love you.”

The bewildering laugh he let out echoed in your chest, the smile on his face so wide you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks and grin back. “I love you too Y/N.”

Then his lips were on yours and you could only melt into it. His tongue slipped beside yours, coaxing soft broken moans from your lips that had him bucking harder against you. Jeongguk tasted like the pepperoni pizza you’d gotten for dinner and coupled with the mint flavoured toothpaste you used the combination was not the best but it didn’t even matter because the boy above you loved you. You’d know for a while that this relationship was something else because Jeongguk made you feel things you didn’t even know you were capable of sometimes. Things were always so comfortable with him, even if they weren’t always easy. Being with Jeongguk felt right.

And he felt the same, even if he could only communicate it with nips to your lower lip and the tight hold on your hips as he rocked you into the mattress. Jeongguk felt like he was ablaze, from the tips of his toes to the heart slamming against his chest. He never expected you to say it back, at least right away. He didn’t even expect it to come out, it just happened. And the fact that you feel the same has him on the fucking moon and incredibly hard. He could only kiss you harder, map out your mouth with his own because he wanted to imprint the feeling of you whining into him in his memory for the rest of his life.

“Jeongguk,” You pulled away, exposing your neck when Jeongguk immediately latched on to. He was never going to stop kissing you. Never.

“Yeah,” He groaned into your skin.

“Need you to do something else with your mouth.”

“Whatever you want baby.”

He took the hint, sliding down until his breath was hot against your blazing cunt, His arms had pulled up the shirt and you reached down to yank it over your head when Jeongguk stopped you.

“K–keep it on please.”

“Why? You don’t want to see my tits?”

“Fuck,” He sighed, fingers digging into your naked thighs. “No I do, I love your tits… It’s just – I can’t explain, could you keep it on though?”

You raised an eyebrow but dropped your arms, complying with his request. You didn’t miss the little exhale he let out. And then his eyes were trained on your pussy once more.

The first lick made you jolt, even though it was through your underwear you could feel the familiar knot of tightening in your gut. It didn’t help that Jeongguk looked so pretty between your legs, how his wide eyes would flicker to yours for reaffirmation that he was pulling you apart.

“Take them off,” You whispered, after Jeongguk had delivered a kiss to your cunt. He did so with protest, eyes darkening when they landed on the slick covering your inner thighs.

“Look at you princess, you made such a fucking mess. Should I clean it up for you?” He hummed, brushing his nose against your inner right thigh.

“Yes, please fuck-”

He didn’t bother to open you up like he usually would. Jeongguk would take his time eating your own, sliding his tongue down your cunt, tongue dipping below to play with your entrance until he dragged it back up and teased his way to your clit. Tonight Jeongguk immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and flicking in sharp swift motions at had your toes curling in pure bliss and your hands fisting the sheets.

He abruptly pulled away, leaving you heaving as you glanced down. He grinned at your confused expression, lips coated in your slick and a rose flush on his face, and then reached out to direct one of your hands onto his head.

“Pull at my hair,” He murmured.

Oh – oh that you could do, and were about to state it when he resumed his assault on your clit, effectively making your brain melt from the pressure of his tongue on your cunt.

“Holy fucking – Jeongguk!” Your hips moved on their own accord, bucking into his mouth in search of something that would help you topple over and come because you really needed too. It didn’t help that Jeongguk had a low vibration going on his throat, the humming resounding into your cunt with every wet lick and press of his tongue on you. You couldn’t help but claw at his scalp, yanking helplessly at the strands there.

“Please, fuck! Let me come, please let me come.” He didn’t reply, choosing to instead slip two of his fingers between your thighs, circling your entrance with them as he gazed intently at you. The stretch you felt as he pushed them into you had you throwing your head back, legs spreading further apart so he could get deeper. It took a moment or two for him to establish a rhythm that kept in time with the ministrations of his tongue but it didn’t take long for you to come undone underneath them.

The need to orgasm was becoming unbearable. The small tremors in your thighs that you moaning into the heated atmosphere made Jeongguk grin, the flicks against your cunt speeding up. And then he crocked his fingers upwards, the pads of his fingertips slamming right into something that had you screaming his name.

It happened faster than you expected, one second Jeongguk had you unravelling with the sharp jabs into your sopping cunt and the next one you were clenching down on his fingers, thighs shaking with every tidal wave of pleasure that coursed through you. The only thing you knew was him name and he couldn’t help but bask in it. You looked gorgeous like this – mouth thrown open and your eyes on the brink of shutting. It made him so unbelievable hard that it was starting to hurt.

“Fuck,” You exhaled, blinking at the ceiling as Jeongguk pulled his fingers away, immediately cleaning them with his own mouth. The movement garnered your attention and you were left mesmerized as he licked you slick away before giving you a bright smile.

He rose upward, taking his place above you, heart leaping at the sight of your small figure still lost in his shirt but this time with a glow on your face.

“If you want we can do that agai-”

The taste of you on his mouth didn’t deter you. In fact you pulled him closer, your fingers grazing his abdomen, taut muscles involuntarily fluttering at the contact. Jeongguk was built magnificently – you could not deny his hours in the gym really paid off. And it made you want to climb him like a tree.

When Jeongguk detached himself from your lips, he huffed a small laugh landing another peck on your nose. “Your nose is so cute. Have I ever told you that? I love your nose.”

“My nose is ginormous you idiot. Stop trying to change the conversation.” You hand had wandered further down, dipping into the black fabric that strained against the curve of his cock. You didn’t know whether to start with him in your mouth or to sit on his dick immediately.

“Baby,” His mouth was in your neck, “I wasn’t joking when I said I couldn’t fuck you tonight. I don’t think I can handle being on top.”

“Then you don’t have to,” You retorted simply, causing Jeongguk to pull back so he could look you in the eyes. “Do you want me to sit on you first or would you prefer it I sucked you off instead.”

He was visibly stunned, a bewildering look glazing over his eyes. “I-”

You palmed at his cock, relishing in the way he arched into your touch, his eyes falling shut as a choked “Shit” slipped from his lips.

“Pick one baby.”

“Wanna fuck your mouth.”

You grinned, gently pushing him off so you could roll on top. He was now beneath you back against the mattress as his eyes eagerly followed your moments. You kissed the crock of his neck, hands dragging down to roll his nipples in your fingertips. He reacted the way you expected him too, with a soft groan and a curse that went straight to your core.

“Look at my baby, such a good boy,” You whispered against his ear with another flick to his nipples. “You’ve treated me so well tonight and I promise to do the same but I need you to do something for me. Only come when I say you can. Is that okay?”

He nodded so hard his head jolted the pillows apart. That was more than okay for him. You rarely ever took the dominant role in the bedroom but when you did he found it incredibly hot. He wouldn’t come until you let him, even he was aching to right at this very moment.

The only reason why you wanted to withhold his release was because you wanted Jeongguk to feel so good could he couldn’t help but come, you needed to see him like that tonight.

You pressed a satisfied kiss against his mouth, no tongue this time, and then found your way down to his boxers, kneeling forward before the hardness there. This stupid thing should have disappeared ages ago.

Jeongguk tossed them off at your command, leaving his cock exposed to the warm air, curving against his stomach, the tip red and dripping with precum. Your lips wrapped around it with a soft kiss, the welcoming wetness of your mouth leaving Jeongguk groaning as you sunk down on his cock. Where your mouth couldn’t reach your hands occupied.

Your wrists snapped up and down, twisting around his length in quick motions that you knew he liked. You tried to keep up with the pace you’d created with your hands but Jeongguk was thick enough that it was difficult to swallow his cock easily. Especially from this angle. But you pushed through the ache that was burning your jaw and kept the tight hold of your mouth around his dick, tongue swirling around the tip as your hollowed your cheeks.

“Fuck baby, fuck! Like that, yes, fuck I’m gonna – shit I’m gonna come-” He remembered what you’d requested but your mouth was so warm and so wet he couldn’t help but want to come down your throat, not when he could hear the way you were gagging around him. So when you pulled off with a disapproving look he didn’t feel sorry at all.

“Jeongguk,” You slapped his thigh. “You’re terrible at being a sub.”

“Sorry,” He replied, mouth twisted in a languid grin. “I haven’t jacked off in a couple of days and you’re mouth was – yeah your mouth was really nice.”

You sighed, bunching up his shirt at your waist. That revealed the new coat of slick coating your cunt that had the smile tumbling right off Jeongguk’s face. “Do you really need to come right now?”

“Yeah, fuck yeah I do.”

“Where do you want to come? In my mouth or in my pussy?”

Jeongguk’s brain went haywire.

“We’re – we’re not using a condom?” He choked out, painfully aware of how his dick twitched at the prospect of being buried inside you with no barrier.

You shock your head. “No, I want you like that.”

“You sure?” His tone was incredulous.

Another nod.

“Baby, I love you but, like, I’m not ready to be a dad.”

You hit his arm with a laugh bubbling from your mouth. “Idiot my period starts really soon.”

“Really?”

“Yes – please just pick a place to come.”

“Your pussy obviously, shit, come here,” He was reaching out for your hips, dragging your over his crotch. You hovered above him, cunt aching to have something inside it.

“Want me to keep the shirt on?”

“Yeah,” He replied dreamily, eyes enamoured with the way your pussy looked covered in wetness that he was responsible for.

“Jeongguk,” You continued innocently, a sharp look in your eyes.

“Yes baby,” His fingers were digging into your hips, gently pulling you closer to his cock.

“Do you have a kink for me wearing your clothes?” This halted everything.

He didn’t look you in eye as he mumbled out a hasty rambling sentence, “Maybe I do.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yeah, is that a bad thing?” He looked so innocent like this, gazing at you with the widest eyes that were brimming with apprehension. He looked like fucking deer caught in headlights who didn’t know whether to run forward or wait for the incoming disaster. You chose not to reply, instead wrapping your hand around his length and lining it up with your entrance. His own fingers were still digging into your hips, tensed as he awaited your answer.

“Jeongguk,” You said, using his cock to toy at your entrance. He groaned despite his uneasiness, the veins in his neck twitching. “Anything you find hot, I find hot. Just know that you’ve just given me free range to steal all your shirts now.”

The snarky reply on his tongue transformed into a groan of pleasure as you sunk down on him, your wet pussy sucking in every inch of his cock. You welcomed the stretch, pushing yourself down as your walls fluttered around his dick. Eventually he was burrowed inside you, your entrance flat against his crotch and the fabric of his shirt brushing against his abdomen.

Every time you had sex Jeongguk always found himself losing it at the feeling of your walls contracting and stretching around him. It felt like absolute heaven because you were always so wet and warm and welcoming for his dick. He’d never felt so connected to a person during sex, but with you even when it was a rough quickie before class, Jeongguk felt alive. Like this was where was meant to be – between your legs giving you everything he ever had.

You sighed, eyes wavering shut, and hips shifting slightly as you adjusted to the familiar stretch of his dick inside you. Jeongguk swore, his hips painfully still as he waited for you to start. His hands were grazing your thighs as he did so, hands trailing to your back so he could give you ass a tight squeeze.

For some reason, one Jeongguk couldn’t wrap his mind around, you in his clothes looking like this made his gut seize up with desire he’d never felt before. You just looked so beautiful like this, mouth open and pussy wet because of him and only him. And the fact that you were wearing his clothes – it was like a signal in his mind that this is for him. That you were for him.

“Baby, remember you can’t come until I say so.” Your smile was lazy as your forced open your eyes, hand on his stomach. You leaned forward and then you started moving. The grip on your hip tightened as you bounced on his dick, your pace quickening with every slap of his skin against yours. It took Jeongguk a second to process the pleasure exuding from his core, he couldn’t even speak, only watch in awe at the way your breast bounced gently beneath the fabric of his white shirt. Or the way your slick leaking all over his dick, making a mess that he wanted to touch.

You jolted up with the pad of his finger hit your clit, immediately moaning when he established a rhythm that had you jerking up and tightening around his dick.

“Jeongguk!” He’d raised his knees so you could lean back, the grip on your waist know purposeful as he fucked up into you with harsh precise thrusts.

“Say my name,” He groaned as you squeezed his cock, using one hand to guide your bounces with the other made quick work of your clit. “Say it baby.”

“Fuck, fuck! Jeongguk – fuck! Love you so much, ugh, love y-you” You threw you head back, screaming his name as your second high came crashing down upon you, pussy clamping down tightly around your boyfriend as you creamed around him. You couldn’t anything else but his name as your rode out your orgasm, toes curling in delight as the tremors cause your shudder above him, mouth wide open.

Jeongguk briefly projected from his body. You were so snug and tight around him he couldn’t help but grab at your hips, pulling your down roughly as his own hips bucked upwards, in a mad chase for his own high. He found it quickly enough, but forced himself to wait until you were coherent.

“Can I come?” He ground out, as you rested your palms against his stomach. You felt the muscle quiver beneath your touch, his stomach caving in with every thrust inside you pussy. You could tell we need to come so badly and yet he had waited for your permission. How was Jeongguk even real?

“Yes, yes, come baby.”

“Fuck,” His eyes were screwed shut as he fucked you through his orgasm, hips stuttering against your own as waves of ecstasy shot through his veins in bursts of pleasure.

It was strange, feeling his come inside you but it was feeling you welcomed. That was until you rolled off and it started slipping out of you. Your knees hit the mattress with a thud as you flopped down beside him.

“You owe me a thigh message,” You muttered into the air coloured by the scent of sex and your joint heavy breaths.

“Your thighs hurt?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good, now you know what I was feeling,”

“Fuck you Jeon Jeongguk,” You replied, the stupidest smile on your face as you whacked at his sweat coated arm.

His grin matched your air, brown hair tousled from your hands and eyes twinkling as he gazed at you. “You just did baby. Give me thirty minutes and we can go again.”

“Ugh, for that you have to get up and turn off the lights.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenario #bts fanfic #this the third time im making this post because the tags always break #like wtf

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lacklusterswirl · 6 years

Text

Echo/Reader (Title in progress)

My friend really likes Echo, so she asked for something similar to my Rook series. Normally, this would go to AO3, but my laptop is being a little turd, and it won’t save my draft. This’ll be another 5 or 6 part story, with rest only being posted on AO3 only (as long as my laptop figures itself out). ~2800 words

“You look like Scheiße, Echo.”

“Working on your Bandit impression?” Echo retorted, not sparing a glance at Jäger.

He had been working on his drone since – well, not working per se. Echo was kind of distracted, if his twitching fingers were any indication. Normally, they’d be fiddling away with his Yokai drones.

Jäger took a seat at his own workbench, but proceeded to stare at his fellow operator – much to the annoyance of said operator. Finally, Echo slumped down in his chair, defeated by seemingly nothing.

“Shall I call Hibana?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to look at your drone? Perhaps I could-”

“No.”

Echo gathered up his items and left the workshop.

Seems like the engineer was smarter than he seemed. Moments after Echo collapsed on his bed, a knock came at his door.

“Enatsu,” came the soft voice that could only be Hibana. “Jäger was saying that you were being rude and moody again.”

“Unless you compliment him, he sees everything as rude. I don’t know how to, and I don’t want to deal with him.”

“Masaru… What’s going on?” The creak of the door told him that she had entered his room. “You’ve never just done… nothing before.”

“Nothing’s wrong… Just…” The lights flickered on and he had to quickly shield his eyes from the harsh light. He sat up in his bed to face Hibana. “Do I look lonely?”

That got her to pause her mindless cleaning. She always hated his messy desk. “Well, I was going to ask if you were sick. That’s a strange way of putting it… Are you feeling lonely?”

“Yes.”

“…What’s caused this change? Did you meet someone?”

“Yes.”

There was a silence where Echo was expecting Hibana to say something in response,

“I’m waiting for a response.”

Oh. Well, he didn’t know how to start, or where for that matter. So he sat there like a sputtering idiot while trying to tell his story to his friend.

“I- well… It’s kind of rushed but, well…”

“You’re very flustered,” Hibana commented.

He shot her a glare. “I can see that thank you very much.”

“Take a breath. Did you see something or someone?”

“I met someone. Well, more like they met me – but same thing, right?”

“Alright let’s start slow. When?”

It was a regular pub night… for most people. For Echo, it was different because it was the first pub crawl he willingly joined at Rainbow. Yumiko didn’t need to remind him, Grace didn’t need to pound at his door, and Mei Lin didn’t need to chastise him for being lazy. He was just fine getting himself “out there”.

At least until that one bar. Because the moment he walked in, he watched as a well-dressed individual sweep a pool game. And it was just misfortune, or timing, really, that caused the stranger to look up at the group that just entered. Echo was the only one who stared back though, and he was rewarded a blinding smile that made him feel… dreadful.

Perhaps he should’ve asked Yumiko to prepare him something more stylish to wear no matter what kind of a challenge that would be. Because when all you owned were white t-shirts, various blue hoodies, and sweatpants… well, it was hard to work with.

Still, he watched as the stranger made a bet with Bandit and started another game of pool. It was more even than the previous game until the stranger managed to sink four in a row before missing the eight ball. Bandit even raised his eyebrows at that feat, since he was now faced with two very difficult options. It didn’t surprise Echo when Bandit failed to get a ball in and manage to set up a very easy finish for the stranger. Their long coat swished around their frame, highlighting their figure even in the dim pub lighting. Watching Bandit hand over the money was strangely satisfying, even if that meant that he’d be in a worse mood when they got back.

Still, there was nothing much to do, so he sipped at his drink while taping mindlessly at some random phone game Dokkaebi made him download.

“Hey there.”

Oh no. Nonono. This was not what he signed up for.

“You often go out just to stare at your phone?”

Hesitantly, Echo lifted his gaze to look at the shining pair that stared back a little too close for normal conversation. In fact, when they laughed at his surprised face, he could feel a light breath from their lips.

“I- I… Uh… Yes?”

They backed off, still chuckling. With a magical wave of their hand, the bartender seemed to know exactly what they wanted to drink, and soon, a pint of beer was set in front of the stranger.

“Pity, and here I was assuming you’d be a better pool player than your German friend.”

Echo couldn’t help but just be completely entranced by how smooth they were. It was like they knew how he would respond to everything that came out of their mouth. But their voice... It managed to drown out all other sounds without needing to yell - don’t ask him how it was possible.

“I… I don’t know how to play, actually…”

They turned to face him again. “Really? Not at all?”

“Uh, no. I didn’t have time throughout school…” And enlisting, he added silently.

“…I’m sorry, but just to make this clear, you’ve graduated, right? I’m not hitting on a minor, am I?”

“No! Uh- I mean no, I’m… It’s been many years since I’ve graduated. Well-” he caught the raised eyebrows of the stranger. “I mean that… Look, I’m thirty-eight, ok?”

“Alright, Loud and clear, aren’t ya?”

That only made Echo’s cheeks heat up more that they were currently. “Well, you’re not shy at all, are you?”

“You’re right, I’m not. I’m your average middle-aged stranger who – with enough alcohol – can approach the cutest guy in the room to try my luck.”

Did… did they just say that? Echo looked away and tried to create a little distance between them. They were lazily smiling back, clearly waiting for a response. Which also happened to be what rendered Echo incapacitated. “Uh, I… I gotta go.”

The smile faded, and replaced by a smaller one that Echo had no trouble reading. “Oh, of course… Have a good night then.”

“Yeah. You too,” he whispered, leaving the stranger alone at the bar.

“Oh, so you didn’t talk with them or anything?”

“No.” Echo collapsed back on his bed again.

Hibana sighed and took a seat at his desk. “Are you really that hopeless?”

“No.”

“Did you go back to them?”

Echo thought for a bit. Tell her, or not… “Yeah, I did.”

Echo spent as much time in the washroom as he could without it seeming awkward. Once he got out, he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to learn more about the stranger, who, as predictable as someone could be, was back at the pool table playing against Smoke this time. Echo watched from the side, out of sight, and saw an impressive victory once again. The Rainbow ops dispersed for a bit as if to decide on who should face this pool champion next.

“Can you teach me?”

The stranger whirled around with wide eyes.

“Um… Sure.” They were frozen, and then added, “Do you always walk so quietly?”

“Yes.” They scrunched up their mouth to the side.

“…Ok, well, why don’t you play against me first? Grab a cue.”

When Echo staid in his spot, the stranger grabbed one off the wall for him. “This,” Echo took the stick from his hands, “is a pool cue.”

“The first ball, depending on solid or stripes, determines which ‘side’ your on. Getting the eight-ball in is automatically a loss, unless you’ve finished with yours. Otherwise, avoid getting a white ball in cause then it becomes the opponents turn, and they get to place it anywhere on the table they would like. Also, don’t hit the opponent’s balls with the white ball unless you’ve already touched one of yours. That also counts as a foul.”

They paused to check in Echo who had been nodding along. “It’s mostly physics based then, right?”

“Yeah. Angles, momentum, the works.”

“I’m pretty good at maths, you know,” Echo told them.

They chuckled, continuing to set up. “I won’t argue that cause you’re probably better than me.”

They set the white ball down and motioned for Echo to come over to them. “Try holding the farther end of the stick between two fingers. The other hand should be back a little just to get good power.”

Damn it was hard to concentrate. Not while they were standing so close, breath tickling his ear, and hand over his right one.

“That’s it… Line it up. The first one should be quite fast since you want to spread out the triangle.”

Thankfully, they removed themselves from his personal space and took a seat on a nearby stool to watch him. The tip of the cue was lined up right in the middle of the white ball. Echo drew his right hand back and quickly pushed the cue forward. He missed. The white ball didn’t move, and his cue was embarrassingly hovering to the side of where he had lined it up.

“I… but I- I lined it up!” he protested the laughter coming from the stranger. They hopped off their stool and patted Echo on the shoulder.

“Keep the cue forward when you push. Otherwise, it’ll slip in a different direction. Here, I’ll help you.”

Echo was not prepared. Not for the cool hands that slid over his, nor the warm body pressed against him, nor the breath next to his ear, and definitely not how his hips were pressed up against their hips. They didn’t seem to notice any of that.

“Here, squeeze a little harder…” he pressed Echo’s left fingers into a small, scissor-shape. “Now you want to keep the angle like this, so don’t let up. Draw the other hand back, and…”

When their right hand released, Echo slid the cue forward, and the white ball made a satisfying sound as it spread apart the other balls. He turned to smile at the stranger only for them to point at the table. Echo watched as the solid blue ball crept closer, and closer, and…

Damn.

“There you go, so now you can only hit solid balls.” Echo surveyed the scene in front of him, and noticed how the stranger beckoned him over. “Try this angle, you see how it’s slightly to the side of the hole? Well, you’re a maths guy, actually, you know what I’m talking about.”

Right. So, he had to hit the side of the ball. He tried to replicate how his gripped he cue previously, but accidentally brushed against another ball. “Sorry,” he mumbled, reaching out to fix the ball.

“Don’t worry about it. Take your shot first.”

This time, he managed to knock it forward – just in a completely different direction than what he originally wanted.

The stranger then walked up to the table to survey their options. They finally took a position in front of where Echo was watching and leaned down. No matter how interesting the game was, Echo found himself occasionally glancing down to where their jeans were pressed nicely against their… Ah shit.

And just like that, he was blushing again, and didn’t notice how their shot managed to knock two of their own balls in. They had a curious look on their face when they turned to look at him again, though.

“No need to feel embarrassed, we all started out at your skill level.”

“Oi!” Two other people Echo didn’t recognize walked up to the stranger. “You wanna play some doubles?”

“Oh, I’ll leave-”

“Sure.” They looked at Echo and shrugged. “Can’t get better until you practice, right?”

“You’re gonna lose though…”

They scoffed. “Like I care about that. It’s a game after all.” As Echo opened his mouth to protest, they leaned in again to whisper into his ear. “Plus, it lets me stare at your butt for a bit longer. I assume you want to do the same to me?”

“Uh- I… I mean… I wasn’t…”

“I take it as a compliment. Don’t worry about me.”

“I really wasn’t” – Echo paused as they raised their stupid eyebrows, and fuck… Why did they look so much better than his? “Alright fine, just don’t laugh too hard at me.”

“My dude, you look like you could beat me up with one hand tied behind your back, and with your eyes closed.”

They went first, already sinking a striped ball in. They then leaned back to look at the entire table before choosing their target. While they sunk ball after ball, Echo did in fact stare at them the entire time. They managed a few in a row before missing their shot by mere millimetres.

While waiting for the other team to make a move, the stranger leaned up against Echo to whisper, “You know, I never did get your name. Mine’s (y/n).”

“Uh… You can call me Echo.” They raised their damn eyebrows again. “It’s the name my friends gave me.”

“Cause you repeat everything you just said?”

“Nooo… I-“

“Oi, Lovebirds, your go.”

“Good luck,” (y/n) smirked.

Echo took a couple deep breaths. He has taken out entire teams in his training by himself, so this little game shouldn’t be that hard.

But oh, how wrong he was. His first hit nudged it forward by a few centimetres, and it looked like he rubbed the ball instead of hitting it. Luckily, the other team let him try again. Not like it really helped. Because on his second try, he actually hit in the other team’s ball into one of the holes, and oh boy, he really didn’t want to see…

(y/n) wasn’t laughing, but just had a coy smile as Echo awkwardly joined them at the side again.

“You know, if you-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Just make it stop.”

“Your wish is my command,” they chuckled.

“I want to meet them now. Who is that good at pool?”

Echo groaned into his pillow. “No one! They’re just… Let me tell you about what happened after I went to his place-”

“You did what?”

“So, what kind of a job do you have?” Echo asked, staring at the nicely decorated room.

“Nothing all that special, I’m an accountant. How about you?” Right, probably shouldn’t have asked about that.

“You said you weren’t good at maths?”

“Ah, not really,” they smirked, hanging up their coat. Echo handed them his own, and followed them into the flat. “I said you were probably better than me at maths, but I never said I was bad.”

Echo quietly waited to be told what to do next.

“So, Echo, how do you want this night to go?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well how I see it,” they leaned in close enough for Echo to smell the alcohol on their breath and feel the smile. “I’m either gonna get laid tonight, and we’re going to walk away as single people again in the morning, or we’re gonna have a couple more drinks and get to know each other better. If we work well together, we should go out.”

“And why not both?”

They drew back and frowned. “Most people have a date before straight up fucking, you know?”

Echo frowned. He too, had drank copious amounts of alcohol while watching (y/n) play operator after operator. “Isn’t there another way of saying… Fucking?”

He pressed himself back against (y/n), making sure to grind his hips into theirs.

“What,” they laughed, pulling away again. “Love making? Intercourse? Have sex?”

“Well, that first one sounded pretty good.”

They shook their head with a sad smile, “Please, it takes a lot more than a single date to get me to that level.”

“I’m different,” he insisted, dragging them towards what he assumed was the bedroom.

“Yeah, cause fucking me in my bathroom is so much better?”

He froze. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Let’s just say he thought I was drunk so he sent me back on in a cab with his number.”

“And where is his number now?”

“Taped to yokai. I was worried I’d lose it…”

Hibana sighed and left the room. Minutes later, both her and IQ walked back in with a yokai in their hands.

Echo sat up and motioned for the drone.

“And what’s the magic word?”

He frowned. “I want to get laid?”

“Fair,” IQ tossed the drone at him and he scrambled to catch his baby.

“Thank you!” he called out after her. Yumiko rolled her eyes and left him alone as well.

Hey…

Echo barely put down the phone when the response came.

How is it that you manage to sound awkward even over text?

On a side note, I’m free all day tomorrow if you want to meet up tonight? ;)

Oh god, he didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

#r6s #rainbow six siege #echo #echo x reader #please accept my canadian spellings #fanfic

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listentotheshityousay · 6 years

Text

roads diverged

After a long joint celebratory dinner with their families on the night of their graduation, Jeremy and Michael steal away and drive an hour up to the Alpine Boat Basin in the Palisades, where it's quiet and near-deserted after sunset. Michael parks the car by the waterfront and they perch on the hood together, half-melted slushies clutched in their hands as they look up across the water at the New York skyline, listening to a chapter of their lives draw to a close in the silence.

“I can’t believe I’m never gonna act in that auditorium again,” Jeremy says. It still feels unreal. “You’ll never drive me to school again.”

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “But I’ll drive you to tons of other places, because god knows you’re lazy and you never drive anywhere yourself.”

Jeremy pouts. “True, but you can’t chauffeur me around New Jersey all the way from Boston.”

Michael turns to give Jeremy a crooked grin. “You can boss me around when it’s not during the school term, dumbass.” He leans in to nudge Jeremy’s shoulder with his own, his voice dropping to a somber note. “But yeah, you might wanna find somebody else while I’m not around.”

There’s something about that statement that feels like a door slammed in his face. He can’t tell if it’s Michael’s tone, or the words, or the thought of not having the familiar cadence of Michael’s voice in his daily life anymore, but it makes Jeremy want to recoil. “I think I can manage on my own,” Jeremy says instead, mirroring Michael’s posture to lean against him, their arms pressing together. “But I’ll miss you. And not just because it’s nice to have you drive me places.”

Michael tips his chin up, gazing towards the stars for a long moment before he looks back down, an unreadable look on his face as he meets Jeremy’s eyes. “I,” he starts, pauses, then looks away. Clears his throat, and faces Jeremy again with a faint smile. “I’ll miss you too, buddy.”

It feels like an incomplete sentence, something swallowed away before it could become a reality. Like missing a step in the dark. Something important spoken in the spaces between words that Jeremy couldn’t hear at all.

“Ugh, now you’re making me nostalgic, and we’re not even going to college for another two months.” Michael bumps the side of his head against Jeremy’s with a huff. “I swear, you’re gonna see so much of me this summer that you’re gonna be glad to get rid of me by the end of it.”

I don’t think I ever could get sick of you, Jeremy doesn’t say. There’s something fragile about this moment, the aftermath of a silent seismic shift that happened under Jeremy’s feet that he cannot fathom, that makes him think that it’s better left unsaid.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he jokes instead, and laughs when Michael elbows him in the side with a mock-scowl.

The waterfront is chilly, especially because summer still hasn’t quite settled into New Jersey yet, but Jeremy feels overly warm and utterly at home, sitting here under the stars, Michael’s shoulder pressed against his.

At the end of summer, Michael pokes Jeremy in the chest after they load the last of Michael’s packed boxes into the backseat of his Cruiser. “I better still be your favorite person when I come back for winter break.”

“Only if you promise that you’re not gonna replace me as best friend,” Jeremy snarks, ignoring the twinge inside his ribcage. He’s all bravado these days, camouflaging his apprehension with false confidence and humor that he doesn’t really feel. It’s been a beautiful summer, full of blue skies and good memories, but he’s felt off-kilter the whole time, like he’s trying to button up his shirt but the first button went through the wrong buttonhole, and he didn’t notice until he reached the bottom.

Michael laughs. It’s usually one of Jeremy’s favorite sounds to hear, but it rings oddly hollow. “Jer, I doubt I could ever replace you.”

College is a whirlwind, with new people and new places and new things all vying for his attention as he stumbles along the learning curve of how to be in charge of his life. He shakes off the homesickness soon enough—Metuchen is only a two hour drive away, after all—but tendrils of it dig into his heart and don’t let go.

“I’m not even sure if it’s homesickness,” Jeremy confesses to his roommate, who likes to get stoned out of his mind and won’t remember this conversation tomorrow. “It’s not our town, or my house, or my dad—I miss them, yeah, but. It’s just one person.”

“My dude,” Drew drawls from where he’s sprawled across his bed, limbs akimbo, and nostalgia slithers through Jeremy’s chest, reminding him of Michael’s tendency to sprawl belly-up across the couch when he’s high. “It’s totally homesickness. Y’know, ‘cause you miss home, and home is where the heart is.”

“What the hell does that even mean,” Jeremy grumbles, because he’s not exactly sober himself, and takes another hit from the joint Drew offers him.

“I was kinda worried,” Michael says from where he’s sprawled over his beanbag chair in Jeremy’s bedroom. “I wasn’t sure we’d be okay, you know?”

Jeremy looks up from the infuriating wooden star puzzle Michael’s given him as this Hanukkah’s gag gift. He hasn’t managed to make even a single piece budge. “Dude, you were the one who kept assuring me that everything was gonna be fine.”

Michael flaps a hand at him. “I know, I know. But I wasn’t…” He clears his throat. “I wasn’t sure I’d be okay without you, or something like that.”

Jeremy holds the wooden star in his hands and doesn’t let himself drop it. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Michael runs a hand through his hair, turning his face away. “But I was okay, and you were okay without me, so—I guess it’s all good. Nothing to worry about.”

Michael’s right. Jeremy had been okay. He’d missed Michael, but it hadn’t cut him off at the knees or lacerated him from the inside-out. He’d been content with weekly video calls and text messages at all times of the day and two-hundred miles between them. There was nothing to worry about.

Except yesterday, Jeremy’d returned to Metuchen for winter break to discover Michael sitting on the front stoop of his house, his bored expression breaking into a beaming smile when Jeremy called his name. And Jeremy’d realized he was home.

He wonders if he should be worried about that.

Weeks later, back in his dorm room, Jeremy makes a face at his laptop while Michael laughs at his complaints about Michael’s stupid gift that’s sitting on Jeremy’s desk, unsolved. Jeremy usually picks it up before he goes to bed, measuring the weight of it in his hands as he tries to pulls it apart, and it’s transitioned from a frustrating routine to a frustrating and soothing routine. Jeremy’s not sure he’ll ever solve this without cheating through Youtube.

All the frustration is worth it, though, to see Michael's teasing grin on his screen.

There’s a girl in Jeremy’s Anthropology 101 class with shapely legs and a sweet, dimpled smile. When she asks to borrow his notes, Jeremy says yes.

When she asks Jeremy if he’d like to go grab a coffee with her, he says yes.

When she asks would you like to have dinner, just the two of us, Jeremy says yes.

"Make sure to walk her home," Michael reminds him over the phone. "Who knows, you might even get a good night kiss."

"You sound more excited than I am." Jeremy looks at the mirror and fusses with his hair one last time. It's strange; his reflection's smile looks like a lie.

Michael exhales a chuckle. "I'm happy for you, dumbass." He pauses. "I really am."

There's a sincerity to his words that makes Jeremy uneasy. Like a door closed in his face. A missed step in the dark.

"I love you too, asshole," Jeremy blusters. The ground feels unsteady under his feet.

Michael laughs, surprised and fond. "I know you do.”

When she asks for a goodnight kiss, Jeremy says I’m sorry.

The day before his final exams begin, Jeremy solves the star puzzle in a fit of procrastination. He takes victorious photos of the pieces as evidence and sends them to Michael, the satisfaction melting into melancholy as he traces the edges of each piece, his fingertips having memorized them all over the past few months.

“Whatcha gonna do without your nightly routine now?” Drew asks from where he’s been staring blankly at his economics textbooks. “You gonna get a different one?”

“I don’t like puzzles.” Michael’s the one who does. Jeremy’s only ever found them frustrating. Crosswords, riddles, complex math problems—they all only make Jeremy feel stupid.

Drew blinks very slowly. “Then why did you hang onto that one?”

“Because,” Jeremy begins, and then stops. He rethinks his words, the meaning wrapped in them. He starts over. “Because it’s a matter of pride.”

Drew makes an unimpressed noise, his gaze sliding back to his textbook, and Jeremy turns back to his desk, his chest feeling too tight. Everything seems off-kilter these days. He’ll forget it about it every once in a while, only to abruptly regain keen awareness of how it feels like his skin doesn’t fit right or his blood is too warm or he’s been buttoning his shirts all wrong

He could have said the truth. He could have said because Michael gave it to me. The words alone mean nothing.

But the spaces between the words, the way he traced every edge of the puzzle with his fingertips every night, nostalgia humming in his bones—those mean everything.

He comes back for the summer to find Michael at the bus station, leaning against the side of his Cruiser with a lazy smile that makes Jeremy’s bones hum louder.

“Man, it’s good to see you.” Michael’s jawline has grown a little sharper with the loss of baby fat, and the slant of his grin looks different now. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the slope of his shoulders—they’re the same yet different. It’s the way Michael holds himself, Jeremy realizes. He looks more confident. More relaxed.

“Yeah,” Jeremy says inanely, still staggering from the revelation that Michael’s gone and grown up while Jeremy’s been, well, Jeremy.

When Michael snorts and leans in to wrap him in a hug, the hum in Jeremy’s bones quiets, leaving him to hear the pounding of his heart against his ribcage all too well, and he realizes, fuck.

“I missed you,” Michael says.

Jeremy’s body goes hot all over, and he squeezes his eyes shut, burying his face into Michael’s shoulder as he hugs him back. He hopes his voice is muffled enough to conceal the quaver in his voice. “I missed you, too.”

It takes days for Jeremy to process the fact that he finds his best friend attractive and that he might have a crush on said best friend. He’s never been very self-aware even at the best of times, but it’s excruciating to think back to all the obvious giveaways and signs he’s blindly overlooked for such a long time.

He tries not to think about it too much. He pushes it to the very back of his mind, under the metaphorical bed, and doesn’t let himself dwell on it. He doesn’t want to examine his own feelings, where they started, how deep they run, how true they are. He doesn’t want them at all. Michael is supposed to be the one uncomplicated part of his life, his Player One who he can trust no matter what, and the idea of him becoming the one person who could truly hurt Jeremy scares him more than anything.

So he doesn’t think about it. Doesn’t let himself consider it. When Michael’s touch sparks a fire in his chest, he holds his breath and starves it of oxygen. When Michael’s smile makes his heart jump to his throat, he swallows it back down.

Some nights, he lays in his bed and thinks that maybe, one day, this will be something he can laugh about. Something like growing pains, ephemeral hurt soon to be mere bittersweet memory, just a passing ailment that leaves no scars.

That’s the most he ever lets himself think about it.

Two days after Independence Day, Michael wheedles Jeremy into going up to the Alpine Boat Basin to watch more fireworks. Jeremy’s seen enough fireworks to last him a year, but he’s seemingly lost the ability to say no to spending time with Michael this summer, so he gives in after a token resistance, making excuses about how the Palisades is beautiful this time of the year anyway.

They arrive early enough to roam the waterfront while the daylight dies across the sky, a cascade of pinks and oranges and reds that bleed into darkness. Michael hauls out his DSLR and takes photos, and Jeremy pretends not to notice the occasional candids that Michael sneaks of him from a distance. Together, they watch New York light up slowly across the water, and then they trek back to the car where it’s parked as close to the water as the parking lot permits.

“It’s been a long year,” Michael says as they wait, perched on the hood of Michael’s Cruiser together, lukewarm bottles of soda clutched in their hands. “You ready for another one?”

“Don’t remind me. Please let me enjoy the remaining six weeks of summer break in peace,” Jeremy groans. “No talking about school until August, remember?”

Michael laughs, amused and carefree, and the sound of it makes Jeremy’s heart somersault in his chest. “Alright, you big baby.”

Before Jeremy can come up with a retort to that, an explosion of bright red explodes above the water. “Oh, wow.”

The display isn’t as grand as the Independence Day fireworks at Papaianni Park, but it’s breathtaking all the same, the lights reflected on the surface of the Hudson River against the backdrop of the glittering New York skyline. Here, there isn’t the swarming crowd or their parents. It’s just the two of them, Jeremy and Michael, sitting under the stars and fireworks, and Jeremy’s goddamn heart rattling in his chest at the lights reflected in Michael’s eyes.

“It’s been a hell of a year, but it wasn’t that bad, right?” Michael asks, his gaze fixed skyward, leaning closer so Jeremy can hear him over the boom of the fireworks. “We came out of it just fine.”

Jeremy forces himself to refocus on the fireworks. Pushes down the urge to mirror Michael’s posture and lean in. Swallows his heart and spits out empty words instead. “I guess so.”

There’s a brief lull in the explosions, like a breath held in anticipation, and just as the silence is sinking in, a burst of gold scatters across the sky, lighting up the sky and the water.

And Michael says, “You know, I had a crush on you.”

Jeremy’s heart nearly stops. “What?”

“Wild, right?” Michael laughs, and the sound of it fractures Jeremy’s heart. “Like, I got a crush on you sometime around the summer after eighth grade? And then it pretty much lasted throughout the whole time in high school. Which sounds incredibly pathetic, now that I’m saying it out loud, because that’s like four years?”

“Four years,” Jeremy repeats, and he can barely breathe around the words. “Until the end of high school?”

Michael finally looks down, a sheepish grin curling at his mouth. “Well, okay, it took me some more time to get over you, but college kinda helped, I guess? And the distance?” He shrugs. “Anyway, it’s old news now, so don’t get all weird about it, okay? I just wanted to tell you. Closure, or something like that.”

All the unspoken words, the ignored feelings, they’re rattling in Jeremy’s chest, climbing up his throat, refusing to be contained under the bed, under the rug, in the recesses of his mind, and he thinks he just might implode from it all.

“So…it’s over now?” His voice cracks, but Michael doesn’t seem to hear the break in the facade through the din of fireworks. “We’re still best friends?”

“Yeah.” A flicker of worry passes over Michael’s face. “That’s okay, right? You’re not weirded out?”

Unable to trust his voice, Jeremy shakes his head, and something in his chest gives away at the relief in Michael’s eyes.

“Thank fuck, I was worried for a hot second there.” Michael throws and arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, leaning his solid, warm weight against Jeremy’s side. “I’m really glad,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice is so suffocating that Jeremy has to close his eyes for a moment.

He shouldn’t say anything, shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help but think that four years is a long time. “How serious was it?”

“What?” Michael blinks, turning to face Jeremy quizzically before he catches on. “Oh, you mean my feelings?” He smiles, wide and bright, and that’s how Jeremy knows he’s about to lie. “It wasn’t anything serious.”

The words might are a sucker punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of Jeremy’s lungs, cracking his chest open. But Jeremy’s always been the better liar between the two of them, so he nods and smiles back, and he watches the last of the fireworks die in the night sky.

In the dark, curled up on his bed, Jeremy retraces his steps his steps through tonight. He barely remembers the drive home. It’d been quiet, with occasional banter and Michael’s playlist filling the silence, and Jeremy’s head had been full of static, his nerves buzzing, time blurring. He rewinds past today and through the days and weeks and months and finally looks the truth in the eye.

The truth is, Jeremy’s a fucking idiot. Because it’s not just a crush. It was never just a crush.

He knows now. He knows what it was that Michael didn’t tell him last year when they were at the Palisades, that moment when the first button went wrong, that first missed step in the dark. He knows what he’d felt, warm and at home by Michael’s side, utterly content and too fucking stupid to realize his own feelings. He knows that all the possibility in the world had been at their fingertips that night, had maybe even been possible after that, and if only Michael had been braver, or Jeremy’d dared to examine his heart, they could have walked an entirely different path. They could have been in love together.

But Jeremy had been too scared to be honest with himself, and Michael had been too scared to be honest with Jeremy. And now, the door to that path has been closed in Jeremy’s face, and he’s in love alone.

“Hey, you okay?” Michael asks as they exit the 7-Eleven, slushies in hand.

Jeremy had cried himself to sleep and woken up with his broken heart lacerating him from inside-out. He’d washed his face and changed into clean clothes and practiced his smile in the mirror until it’d looked real. He’d eaten lunch with his dad and talked about the fireworks and hadn’t let himself falter when he’d said that it had been a fun night. And when Michael had pulled into the driveway for their slushie run, he’d walked out of the house with steady steps and hadn’t let himself fall to his knees.

“I’m okay,” Jeremy says, and quirks a small smile to convince Michael as they both climb into the car. “Just tired because I couldn’t sleep in the heat.”

Michael snorts. “Wuss. It wasn’t that hot.”

“Shut up and drive.” Jeremy gives Michael a playful shove, and the lingering worry melts away, the tension slipping from Michael’s shoulders, just as Jeremy intended. “You’re my chauffeur, remember?”

“You’re so lazy,” Michael mock-scolds him, but he turns the ignition on and grins. “What would you do without me?”

“I’d survive.” The truth will only hurt them both, so Jeremy will keep it to himself and spare Michael the pain. Even if it takes a lifetime of lying. Even if it means breaking his own heart. “Maybe even drive myself to the mall.”

Michael snorts, his mouth quirking into a wicked grin that makes the hollow cavern of Jeremy’s chest ache. “Sure, Jer, I’d love to see that.”

��I’d be fine without you,” Jeremy lies. He has the rest of his life to make it true.

#be more chill #bmc #boyf riends #fic #mine #I might post this on ao3 too sometime later but we'll see #THIS IS HOW I CRASH BACK INTO TUMBLR AFTER MY HIATUS #I had to spend twenty goddamn minutes looking for a title because it's so LONG #anyway yes it's a reference to the robert frost poem #mutually unrequited pining #OKAY OFF TO BED NOW #EDIT: holy FUCK I accidentally forgot the read more at first #sorry mobile users you'll still get the full 3.4k of this bullshit

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skeletorific · 7 years

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Underswap Headcanons

So I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Underswap and how I differentiate it from Undertale. I’ve never really had the words to it before, but something I’ve come to understand is that I think while the characters maintain the external personality and appearance of the person they’ve been swapped with, their dark side, their insecurities, the lines they’ll cross, the parts only close friends and family know...they are retained from their Tale selves. This underside, however, expresses itself through the lens of the externals, creating a fusion that at times can resemble both but allows the personality to become its own. I’ll be writing some basic profiles of the major characters, including some of those that I don’t write for often. I will be leaving out Chara and Frisk though. Not because I don’t have headcanons for them, but because in order to understand my swaps for them, you’d have to understand my Tale headcanons for them, which is a post in its own right.

(may do this for Swapfell, but then I’d have to get into the whole Fellswap Swapfell thing and that’s a whoooole can of worms)

Asgore: Alright, in fairness, Asgore and Toriel have always been pretty similar. Maybe its because they spent so much time as a couple. Still, there are some differences. In Underswap, Asgore has UT!Toriel’s caretaking instincts for lost souls as well as her more stringent ethics (there is right and wrong and very little in between). He also inherits the love of puns. From his original self, however, he gained a certain unacknowledged resignation. While he has a stronger sense of right and wrong than his Tale self, he shares a similar sense of doom, and that no matter what he desires, in the end, what will happen is what will happen. He will not fight as hard to keep the human there, nor does he connect as strongly, because he seems burdened by an understanding that he cannot save them. All of his children leave, and rather than trying to cloister them, as Tale!Toriel did, he in the end builds more walls around himself, tries to provide for them without getting his heart broken. He returns in the True Pacifist ending ultimately because he decides he is tired of trying to protect himself. That this is not what his son and Frisk would’ve wanted. He also resents Toriel less than Tale!Toriel resents her ex. While he still finds her actions despicable, there is a subconscious part of him that envies the fact that she still had the strength to care for their people while he shut down.

Sans: (special thanks to @nighttimepixels for putting my thinking on this track)Externally, he’s identical to Tale!Papyrus almost to the point of caricature. Bouncy, enthusiastic, optimistic, the Underground’s ray of sunshine who seems like he’s never had a bad thought in his life.....but the truth is, no one’s that perfect. Blue is pretty naturally upbeat. He prefers to see the best in people and though he’s often let down he finds that when that trust is rewarded its worth it. But in many cases his reputation outpaces his actuality. Still, the largest thing he inherited his Tale!Sans? The desire to keep secrets. To protect himself, to avoid problems by just hiding it all under a more digestible front. Even Papyrus doesn’t totally know how low he can get. How garbage his self-esteem can be. How isolated he can feel from others. Because the lower he gets the higher in gear he kicks it. More bounce! More pizazz! More magnificence! He’s Sans the Skeleton, everyone’s support system! He...he doesn’t get low days. Honest! From a more positive perspective, Blue is a little less dependent on the opinion’s of others than Papyrus. As long as they aren’t upset, then honestly they can have whatever opinion of him that they want. To clarify, he of course wants to be seen as impressive, kind, and a force to be reckoned with, but he copes a bit better with his lack of popularity that Tale!Papyrus, and is less desperate to please. While both have a strong code of ethics, Blue is more likely to burn a bridge over a violation of it (though of course hoping they will come around), while Papyrus has a harder time doing that.

Papyrus: The first time he meets Tale Sans, Sans can’t help but feel a strange rush of envy. Stretch is lazy, sure, lives like garbage and can’t commit to much. But he’s so damn charming. He seems to have retained Original Papyrus’ showmanship instincts just enough to talk his way into anything, leave just as much of an impression as he wants, or go ignored if that’s what he desired. And while in general he’s as directionless as Tale, when he wants something he rarely has trouble getting it. Motivation isn’t his default but it is a reservoir he has immense capacity to draw on. Still, there’s a lot (a LOT) Stretch doesn’t show. That dependency on people’s opinion that Blue missed? Guess who inherited it. Because yeah, he walks around like he doesn’t give a damn what anyone thinks of him, like he’s got it all figured out and could talk circles around you if he wanted. But Stretch is CONSTANTLY assessing himself and other people’s perception of him. Even if he doesn’t want to be adored, he wants to be remembered, thought of as funny, clever, or hell, even annoying, just as long as its the impression he wants to give off. He walks a fine line of wanting no one to see the real him while wanting someone to just see him for who he is and VALIDATE it. His self-confidence struggles are tangentially related to Tale Sans, but while Tale tends to just shrug and write himself off as a lost cause, Stretch can’t stop himself from trying to micromanage his own personality. He has a fixation on controlling himself. In light of the RESETs, its one of the last things he can control. Even the smoking habit was intentional. He wanted a coping mechanism, as well as a good reason to be alone when he wanted to be. It sounds cliche, but if Stretch really wanted to quit he could’ve done it no problem years ago. He struggles with anxiety as opposed to Tale’s depression, and is quite a bit more extroverted.

Muffet: Muffet’s similarities to her Tale self largely relate to motivations. She works her bakery/bar to provide money for her spider family members in Hotland. As the strongest of her kind only she could bear Snowdin’s cold, and it allowed her a business opportunity (given that Swap Grillby has a stranglehold on the Hotland food market only barely broken by Napstaton’s resort) to provide for her family. Outwardly, she is near identical to Tale Grillby. Quiet, responsible, with an unexpected humor only a select few regulars are privy to. Still, she kept her Tale self’s cutthroat side. While she’s a decent person and generally is willing to help others, if the choice came between an innocent and any member of her family, she would give up the innocent practically instantaneously. She’s also a tightfist and can be extremely unreasonable about money. Stretch doesn’t talk about it much but there was an incident where she came to him about his tab and he treated the matter a little too light-heartedly.....she apologized afterwards but he’s never let the bill stand that long since. To her, nothing is more important than her ability to provide and protect for her people.

Alphys: She’s got all of Tale Undyne’s rough and tumble, “FIGHT ME” intensity, as well as her softer, gentler desire to help all monsterkind. But this dinosaur doesn’t have nearly the same confidence. Not that she’d ever admit to it. But Alph struggles with her belief in herself. She believes in Blue, in Toriel, in Undyne, in all of her friends, really. But rarely in herself. Toriel never needed to correct her during training, Alphys berated herself, often way past what was necessary. She can do a hundred perfect moves, trip once, and that’s the only thing she’ll remember. Still, she covers that lack of confidence with quite a bit of aggression. Though Tale!Undyne had her angry moments, Alphys can come off as downright cranky. She also retained a tactical brilliance from Tale!Alphys, and a secret nerd side that she represses. No one is allowed in her room because that’s where she keeps all the....*whispers* books. Part of what drew her to Undyne was that she’s allowed to openly love what Alphys feels she must keep to herself. After all, warriors don’t READ! Right?!?!?!

Undyne: Awkward, shy, nerdy, stammering......and full of PASSION! Seriously, she keeps it on the DL, but she is almost as intense as her Tale self. Pencils she chews on end up bitten in half before she knows what she’s doing. She’s thrown laptops across the room in her excitement over new breakthroughs. And that’s not counting all the broken mugs. She definitely does not know her own strength. She also has Tale!Undyne’s tendency to make swift judgments (like with Frisk and Papyrus to an extent) and stick to them until she has no choice but to reassess. A prime example? Mettablook. Once she determined that their cousin was a better candidate for the robotics project....well, she wasn’t exactly rude, but she could be a bit callous. Frankly, she didn’t have much use for them, and could be unreasonable about their requests for her to make them a body, saying curtly that she didn’t have the resources to spare for such a secondary project. On the more positive side, while she’s definitely awkward, she doesn’t struggle as much with confidence as Tale!Alphys. Her isolation is more incidental to her focus on her job (and, well, the internet). Socializing isn’t nearly as agonizing for her. She keeps in touch with Stretch despite them not working together. She simply doesn’t let people get too close so they don’t find out about the little surprise in her basement....

And speaking of Mettablook....

Mettablook (Hapstablook?): (sidenote, I’ll be using he/him pronouns since that’s what Mettaton uses in-game) When it comes to Napsta and Metta, I see their Swap being more role than personality focused. Like, Metta definitely got more of Napstablook’s shyness, but in general he is very close to how I imagine pre-robo Mettaton. He has a flair for performance, a love for anything that sparkles, and a fierce loyalty to his circle of friends. With one major difference. He wasn’t the one who met Undyne first. That was his cousin. As a result, Napsta was the one chosen for the robot program. While Metta....was stuck with the farm. As opposed to Napstablook’s crushed self-esteem, though, his route to coping with being....well, abandoned by one of the few people he thought would stick around for ever, is active denial that it hurt even a little. No, really, he’s very happy for his cousin. No big that they never call or write or visit....really, he’s sure they’re busy or something. He honestly can’t be bothered to think about it with all his responsibilities. Really. Its total bullshit and everyone knows it, but he’ll hold fast to that exterior. And while his confidence isn’t quite as shattered, he’s not nearly the performer he used to be when Chara finds him. He’s trying to rationalize why his cousin wouldn’t take him with them. Was....was this their way of letting them down easy? Are they trying to tell him that he was never as good as he thought? He still practices, but he’s far more private about it. The way you would know he’s ready for MERCY is if he shows you one of his poses, actually.

Napstaton (they/them pronouns) There’s two sides to this DJ. Their on stage persona is actually very laid back, something of a very optimistic surfer dude. They’re go-with-the flow, has tousled robo hair (okay, its been engineered to look tousled) and in general just happy to meet you. While Tale Mettaton’s emphasis is on performance, Napstaton’s first and foremost concern is the music they play and write. They don’t do television shows, but concerts and music specials. Underneath the cool exterior, though, this bot is a HOT MESS. All Napstas, regardless of universe, struggle with low self-esteem and the fear that everyone secretly hates them. When they got their chance at celebrity they had hoped this would be less of an issue. But its not. If anything, its worse, because they’re worried every minute that they’ll mess it up, that the penny will drop and everyone will see them for the garbage heap that they are. They can’t let that happen. So they focus on everything to do with their career. They hole up for days agonizing over their music. They spend hours choosing outfits carefully so they don’t look like they took hours to choose. They never see their cousin anymore, and visits with Undyne are rare and usually as short as they can make them. It makes them something of a selfish person, focused entirely on their image and how they interact with the world. Still, they have a very sweet nature that comes out especially after Chara gives them their wake up call, and they really do love their friends.

Toriel: Gracious, wise, powerful, and in charge. She has all the qualities the Underground seems to require. Along with Tale!Toriel’s impressive dedication to those she cares about and her maternal instincts she combines UT!Asgore’s utter devotion to their people. The killing of children is not something she takes any pleasure in. But she tries to bury her it in the hope of her people. With each SOUL they get closer and closer to freedom. Surely that has to be enough. She also commands a lot more respect than UT!Asgore does, and you are not likely to hear her referred to as “Queen Fluffybuns” anytime soon. Still, she didnt just carry over Toriel’s good qualities. While UT!Asgore mostly wrestled with his own guilt, Swap Toriel is overwhelmingly lonely. Which seems odd. After all, she’s surrounded by people. But there is a certain distance that she has to maintain as a ruler, that prevents many from getting close. With Asgore’s desparture, she’s lost the last person that she felt she could emotionally connect with. Its turned her....a little desperate. And a lot overprotective. Alphys had to fight for years to get her permission to join the Guard, simply because she didn’t want her hurt. Undyne has a tough time of it keeping the Amalgams hidden because Toriel is always visiting and sticking her snout in every direction. Even when they hit the Surface she has a tendency to hover over Chara’s activites and make up reasons to show up at Asgore’s house. Someone give this woman a hug and let her know everyone’s gonna be okay.

#you have no fucking clue #how long this took #its been in my drafts forEVER #i just have too many underswap thoughts #and will probably want to edit this like fifteen more times after publishing #underswap #us!asgore #us!sans #us!papyrus #us!muffet #us!alphys #us!undyne #us!toriel #us!mettablook #us!hapstablook #us!napstaton #headcanon #sort of

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trancowboy · 8 years

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Hi Charlie, I'm making a thing and I was wondering if you could help me by shraing your view about steve rogers and bucky barnes, as individual characters as well as your view of their relationship together, headcanons and such, is totally okay if you can't, but if you do I'd be eternally grateful! Thanks anyway

Pal, you basically just invited me to write a whole entire essay about these two assholes, so… I’m sorry? This is gonna get long and most likely sad.

Steve Rogers:

Steve is an asshole, through and through. He’s got a heart of gold and being a good person is in his nature, but my god is he an asshole.

He will fight anyone who does him or anyone he cares about wrong. He won’t hesitate to pick a fight and he would much rather throw some punches than have a verbal conversation/discussion.

Steve Rogers talks with his fists. He’ll fight until he physically can’t stand anymore and even then he will stand up and push himself just that last little bit.

(”I could do this all day.” Steve, my angry baby, have a seat and take a nap.)

Steve is the bisexual we deserve. I think he’s always been aware that he’s attracted to both men and women, but he never told anyone about it back in the day. He didn’t need people to have another reason to beat him up, so he kept it quiet.

(And if he paid a little more attention to certain drawings of a certain boy, then that was his business.)

I don’t think he knew there was a name for what he feels until he woke up in the future. But once he found out and learned more about it, I like to think he’d be a Proud Bi and just tell everyone he comes across because it’s okay now and he can do it.

Sure, it gets a little tiring when he answers his phone with, “Steve Rogers, proud bisexual. Hello,” but his friends get used to it and strangers get past the confusion quickly.

Steve swears. A lot. Like a whole fucking lot. I actively ignore the whole “Language” line (unless it was a joke that Steve only told because he’s tired of the ~grandpa~ jokes, which, ok, I can get behind that) because Steve Rogers has the mouth of a fucking sailor.

Steve can swear up a storm but compliment him or flirt with him or be extra nice or anything and he’ll blush like a tomato and become so awkward he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Even after all these years, Steve still feels a bit awkward in this new body of his. He doesn’t miss being skinny and sickly and tiny and on the brink of death all the time, but sometimes he doesn’t like being big and muscle-y either. Sometimes he doesn’t like how he can’t make himself invisible as easily as he used to.

Sometimes he just wants to curl up under the covers of his bed and hide from the outside world that has painted him as a person he’s not; a world that sees him as a soldier and Captain America™ rather than a human being.

He lives in a world he doesn’t recognize where everyone he ever knew and cared about are either dead or only remembers him half the time. This deleted scene from The Avengers shows just how detached to the world he feels and honestly, I have way too many feelings about that three minute video.

Steve throws himself into danger (jumping on a grenade without thought, crashing the Valkyrie, jumping out of a plane without a parachute, etc) because he doesn’t really care whether he lives or dies. He never feared death because death has loomed over him like a shadow since he was a child.

And maybe he wants death to take him sometimes. He definitely wanted to when he crashed the Valkyrie. He could have fought more, could have figured out a way to save the world and still survive, but he was tired and he just wanted it to end, so he stopped fighting.

And then he woke up 70 years later to more fighting and he just never slowed down or took a break, because if he did, he’d have to deal with how he was feeling and he couldn’t handle that. He didn’t want to deal with it because it was too painful.

While extremely heavy on the angst, Einherjar by thecommodore_squid perfectly portrays Steve’s depression. Steve in that fic is pretty much exactly how I see him.

MOVING ON TO HAPPIER THINGS, SHALL WE?

Steve is a Disney nerd. He probably didn’t get to catch up on all the new Disney movies between TFA and CW, but between giving up the shield and becoming Nomad (@ marvel let me have bearded!nomad!steve pls and thanks) he probably took a breather for the first time in years and started on the list.

(Does he sit with a laptop by Bucky’s cryo freezer and watches them with him??? haha shoot me)

Steve will fight for what he believes in, no matter what. He proved that in CW when he gave up everything for Bucky without thinking twice.

And then, of course, there’s my headcanon that Steve is trans but if I dive into that, this thing is gonna end up 100k on Steve alone.

Bucky Barnes:

Bucky cares so much. He’s the guy who stood by this skinny, little punk’s side when no one else did. He’s the guy who probably worked his ass off for hours and hours just to get enough money so Steve could get healthy (or healthier) again.

He’s the guy who went through torture and trauma and had the opportunity to get an honorable discharge after what he went through, but he didn’t. Instead he followed his best friend back into war and it cost him his life and freedom and self.

But I’d bet my left foot that he’d do it all again, because he’s Bucky and Bucky cares so goddamn much about everyone but himself.

Bucky is gay. Yes, he was with women back in the day and yes, he kissed them and fooled around with them and probably got off a little, but I think he did it just because it was expected of him.

If it wasn’t because it would be suspicious to everyone else, he would probably just stay home with Steve and pine every single day.

Bucky is such a giant fucking nerd. He finds science and technology incredibly exciting. I mean, he did spend his last night before going off to war dragging Steve to the Stark Expo (and their dates but eh).

Imagine his reaction to all the science stuff he missed while being used by Hydra? He’s gonna light up like a child on Christmas. God, I love my nerd son so much.

Bucky is smart as hell and no one can convince me otherwise. I mean, “[…] having been an excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom” is proof enough.

Bucky has been through hell and back several times. He’s been wiped of his memories and himself until he was a blank slate for Hydra to do whatever they wanted to with, and it’s happened probably more times than he’s been able to keep track of. And every time he started regaining just a little bit of himself or just one little memory, the torture would start all over again.

He’s been through hell, so it shouldn’t surprise anyone that he suffers from a severe case of PTSD.

Bucky Barnes is a man who cares and protects and when he’s made into a weapon who kills and murders and destroys – when he himself becomes the danger, he locks himself away because he thinks that’s the best thing for everybody.

Steve + Bucky:

There’s no Steve without Bucky, and there’s no Bucky without Steve. Steve and Bucky have always been SteveandBucky, and one without the other means they’re never really whole.

They’re their own person, sure, but they’re better together. They make each other better. Bucky makes sure Steve doesn’t kill himself with his stupidity and recklessness, and Steve makes sure Bucky gets protected and cared for too.

Steve will give up everything for Bucky, no hesitation and no questions asked, and Bucky will do whatever it takes to protect Steve, even if that means hurting him in the process (ie going into cryo).

Bucky is Steve’s dark side and Steve will do anything for him.

I have mixed thoughts on who fell in love with who first. My first instinct is to say Bucky fell in love with Steve first because of all the obvious pining in TFA, but then I think about little Steve Rogers who everyone beat up and disregarded and didn’t care about getting saved by this wonderful boy who doesn’t look down on him and treats him like an equal and I think it was easy for Steve to fall in love with Bucky, so I’m just¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

It doesn’t really matter who fell in love with who first though, does it? What mattes is that they love each other unconditionally and ‘til the end of the line (and beyond cause c’mon. That kinda love is never gonna die).

To end on a lighter note, I’m gonna give you some fluffy headcanons cause I have A Lot.

Steve is the big spoon. He always has been. Bucky loved when there was a skinny octopus clinging to him and barely being able to cover him and he loves it when he’s surrounded by pillowy muscles and warmth.

Bucky was Steve’s favorite subject to draw. And even after everything, even when he hadn’t seen him for years and thought he was dead, Steve still drew him because he never wanted to forget the face of the man he loves.

Whenever Bucky talks about science stuff, he gets all excited and extra cute, and Steve always falls in love with him a little bit more.

Same for when Steve talks about art or literally anything he’s passionate about. Steve could talk about poop and piss for an hour, and Bucky would be making heart-eyes at him the whole time.

Steve used to wear Bucky’s shirts all the time. His excuse used to be that he was too lazy to do laundry, but really, he just liked wearing Bucky’s clothes. (Bucky never minded.)

Clothes sharing is a Thing with these two. It’s a Thing that happens a lot and no one can convince me otherwise.

Bucky loves having his hair played with and Steve loves to play with Bucky’s hair.

Bucky has always loved dancing. That doesn’t change over the years, and he will make Steve dance with him again. (”I don’t care that the serum didn’t fix your two left feet, Stevie, dance with me.”)

When they finally do get together (whether that was before the war or after TWS doesn’t matter) Steve never wastes an opportunity to tell Bucky he loves him, and Steve takes every chance he can to kiss him because now he can.

Steve was probably the one who made the first move.

Steve is a little shit and Bucky loves him even when he’s being Extra and Dramatic and even when Bucky’s exasperated with him. Steve can be as much of an asshole as he wants to, because Bucky will always love him.

Bucky loves flirting with Steve just to see Steve blush bright red. (Sometimes Bucky will just casually put his hand on Steve’s butt or boob and Steve will become Captain Tomato.)

Steve will fucking fight anyone who says anything bad about Bucky.

Conclusion: Give these boys some hugs and a happy ending, please and thank you.

Anyway, I’ve got a ton more Thoughts but this is already so stupidly long, so I’m gonna stop there. Hope this was helpful (was it??? idk) and thank you for letting me ramble on about these two fuckers.

PS, tell me more about your thing or link me, maybe, if you wanna 👀

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stevebucky #stucky #otp: till the end of the line #anonymous #answered #this distracted me for a while #which i really needed #so thank you

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