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elliotsblunt · 2 years

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truth or drink | elliot

“could u write the reader playing truth or dare w elliot (they're alone, no jules no rue) and it escalates more and more and they fuck?if for some reason you can't, that's totally fine”

pairings — elliot/reader | fuckbuddy!au |

summary : a game of truth or dare, but with a twist. but you two didn’t know the game would go on for days.

warnings : overstimulation, handjob in public >:), fingering, sexual dares, KINKY cream pie, riding, daddy!kink, dom dom dom elliot,this fic is so long it took me days to write,i think that’s it

word count : 6.4k

authors note : this took me three days to write. it’s also my fav smut fic ever ive written.

The relationship between you and Elliot was…

complicated.

You two weren’t together, and were completely allowed to hook up with others—but when you were in the bedroom, you were his. And he was yours. It was simple like that. No one told the other whether or not they fucked someone else. You two explored each other completely. What you liked, what you didn’t like, and how far you were willing to go..sexually. As little as giving a basic blow job, to as far as him fingering you in the backseat while Jules drove unknowingly with her girlfriend in the front. No one knew of your little games, though, which made it even more exciting.

He was sitting across from you, drawing random patters on the back of his skateboard—back leaned up against his closet door. You had a joint to your lips, watching him with thin eyes, another game being concocted by yours truly.

Blowing out the smoke, your mind brew a bit fuzzy as you parted your lips to speak, “Idea,” you raised your finger in the air, him not looking up at you as he balanced the cap of the marker in his mouth. He let out a hum instead, “What if we played truth or drink, but instead of drink, you have to let the person do anything to you that they want at that given time?” You proposed, his brows furrowing before dark eyes snapped up at you.

Spitting the cap out, he closed the marker before raising a brow in your direction, “Interesting.”

You nodded, crawling over to him. His eyes slightly hooded as they staid glued to your figure, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as your fingers went up his thighs through his black sweats. Gulping harshly, he kept a straight and firm look as you sighed dramatically, “Let me start it off,” you sang in a teasing tone, stopping your movements at his knees. He released a small sigh, sending you a smile that challenged you, not having much hope for you. He loved games—especially the sexual ones you do. It excites him, “What’s your favorite position?”

“Easy,” he scoffed, raising his brows, “I like it when a girl rides me. Tits in my face and all.”

You nodded at his answer, his hands slapping onto his thighs after you retracted your touch. He tilted his head with a sly smirk, “Have you ever fucked someone else and thought of me?” His tone held the undertone of taunting, making your body tense up. Shifting in your seat, he spotted you grew uncomfortable, the answer itself being obvious. But you didn’t want him to be able to do anything he wanted to you, so you smacked your lips and smiled bitterly.

“It was one time.”

He howled, snickering afterwards, “Yeah? Who?”

“Wait your turn,” you looked down at your nail, appearing bored, “—but it was only because he called me something that you usually did,” which was true. Aaron Sanders had called you princess, which was usually what Elliot called you when he was in a sweet mood, unlike other times where he took out his frustration on you and fucked you until you cried real tears, “Anyways, my turn,” you grinned sinisterly over at him,

“Did you ever finish in your pants?”

His head tipped back, an irritated sigh escaping his nostrils. Your eyes lit up. Perhaps he’ll let you win this round, and you can end up getting some head. About to let out a laugh at his defeat, his voice rasped, “When I first ate a girl out, yeah,” he admitted, narrowing his eyes at you, “My turn,” he countered, crossing his arms,

“Have you ever faked cumming with me?”

Your brows rose at his question.

Oh shit.

The real answer was yes. But the only reason that had happened, was because when Elliot had fingered you after school in the back of his car, you had hooked up with some other dude prior in the locker room. You were extremely sensitive at the time, and when he kept rubbing your clit, you couldn’t handle how painful and sore you had been from your past conquest. So yeah, you faked your orgasm, because you didn’t want to have that awkward conversation that couldn’t been turned around on you to appear as some whore. But instead of telling him all that, you let out a sigh of defeat, hands slapping onto the floor as you signaled that you had lost. “You win.”

He raised his fist in the air, shooting out a cheerful fuck yeah, until he paused—realizing that it meant you did. His jaw clenched, embarrassment crossing his features, “Wait—the fuck? When did you fake it?”

You shrugged, deciding to tease him a bit. The hamster wheel in your brain began to pick up speed, “All the time. You suck at fucking me, Ellie,” you grinned half-heartedly, but he didn’t laugh. Your smile slowly slipped as his lips instead pressed together into a firm line, brows creating wrinkles in between them, as his eyes grew considerably more narrow, “It’s not that big of a dea—“

“Shut up,” he snapped, his tone harsh. You froze in place as he sat up straight, tossing his board off his lap, before grabbing your ankles, “I’m gonna make you cum three times on my tongue,” he growled out, your tummy flipping at his promise. Your t-shirt rode up as he dragged you across his carpet, lying down onto his stomach, as his head appeared between your thighs. You squeaked as he forcefully pushed your legs open, “Keep ‘em open, or I’ll fucking tie them to my bed stand.”

Sparks of electricity shot through your body. You lifted your head, leaning onto your elbows, as he got slowly slid your panties down your legs. His eyes found yours as he would usually kiss up your thighs, but something inside him was so hostile, so furious, that affection was clearly off the table. When Elliot was rough, he was rough. Dirty names, spanking, biting, bruising, hair pulling, all of it. Excitement flooded your veins as the cool air hit your already soaking folds, mouth falling open at the feeling of him pressing a peck to your clit, “Oh, fuck—“

“I don’t wanna hear anything from you,” he spat, slapping your clit. The stinging sensation made you yelp, jerking your hips back, but his two large hands made sure they stood in place. His brow rose, “The only time you can speak is your safe word, and that’s that. Now shut up,” he grumbled before dipping his head back down, capturing your clit with his mouth. Your hands decided against going into his curls, knowing he would just tell you to not touch him, so you went for squeezing your breasts instead. He shook his head slightly, slurping lewdly, as his warm tongue stroked your nub,

“Don’t know when I haven’t made you cum,” he mumbled to himself, pulling away to watch two of his fingers slip into your pussy. You instantly clenched around him, teeth piercing your bottom lip as you tried to keep quiet. Nostrils flared, he picked up his pace, “Dirty fuckin’ whore. You always fall apart for me, because you’re my slut. Right?”

You nodded, keeping your silence, making him chuckle. His eyes rounded in a mocking tone, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

You were gonna flip him off, but instead slapped a hand over your mouth, when his head bent back down and began roughly licking at your clit. You cringed slightly at how fast you were hurdling towards your orgasm, especially with how he kept alternating between flicking it and sucking the nub, making your head spin. When you felt his fingers reach that spongey spot inside you, your shot upwards, crying out under your palm as you came for him.

He didn’t react. If anything, your orgasm was short lived as he pumped his fingers faster—your wrist flying to his hand, “Ellie—“

Not stopping, you saw his bicep flex as his veins protruded from how much he was working his arm. His tone was sharp, “Are you going to say your safe word?”

You shook your head.

“No, but—“

“Then shut the fuck up,” he hissed before his thumb went to rub your clit, which was puffy and aching badly. You huffed, your lips falling open as you fell onto your back once again, thighs trying to close around his head. His tongue laid flatly on your pussy, working you towards your second orgasm, before it hit you suddenly.

The muscles in your thighs shook as you came again, almost forgetting to not make a sound, even though you weren’t sure you could. Elliot’s mask cracked, smiling like a crazy person, “Love watching it soak my hand, so fucking hot,” he praised, rising up to your neck. Your stomach tensed as he slightly slowed down, but didn’t stop pumping his long, thin fingers within you, determined to make you finish one more time. But this time, he pecked your cheek, licking the shell of your ear, “Lemme hear you this time, pretty girl. But you better scream my name when you cum on my fingers, okay?”

You looked up at him, your fingers flying to his shirt. Your brows furrowed as he took out his fingers, rubbing them over your clit, eyes boring down into yours. Your mouth fell open, “I—oh my god, oh my god, oh my—“

Warmth flooded your pussy. You moaned his name repeatedly like a song. Your eyes squeezed shut as you heard Elliot coo softly from above you, “That’s it. Such a good girl, cumming for hard for me. There we go,” he comforted, returning back to his old self. You closed your legs, finally, twitching here and there from how hard you had just came. His fingers grabbed your chin, making you look up at him, concern swirling in his dark hues,

“You okay?”

You sighed heavily, nodding. Your eyes grew heavy.

“Fuck yeah.”

It had been a few days ago since the game was played. In all honestly, you had completely forgotten about it, not a thought about the matter crossing your mind. You had been walking to class with Maddy and Cassie, laughing at a joke that the brunette made, before feeling someone tug on the back of your hoodie. A gasp shot from your lips, but when you saw a cheeky smile on Elliot’s soft features, you arched a brow before hearing Maddy let out a groan, “Ugh—didn’t I tell you to keep five feet away from me at all times, pothead?” She spoke sassily, cocking her hand on her hip, “Only a dumbass like you would risk smoking at school. You reek.”

Elliot blew her a kiss before flipping her off. They didn’t get along well. Biting back a laugh, you watched as he snatched your wrist, turning his back towards Maddy, and walked away while holding his hand up, “Would you like me better if I had dicks in my phone?”

“Fuck you, cunt.” Her voice sounded in the hall, pissed.

Elliot snorted, ignoring her, leading you to a more secluded area of lockers. Once he finally let go of your wrist, your brows rose, as if to ask him why he had brought you here. You noticed he was wearing that sweater you liked, mixed with a bluish and green color palette. You recalled calling him handsome, and you could’ve sworn he blushed—telling you to shut up. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he quirked a brow, “Y/N, how many people have you fucked this week?”

You narrowed your eyes, “Huh?”

“You have to answer,” his lips quirked into a smirk. His voice came out as a whisper, “It’s the game, remember?”

And then it all hit you. When you realized what he had meant, your brows rose. You hadn’t been with anyone other than Elliot for the past three weeks now, in all honesty. You didn’t stutter as you shrugged, “Only you.”

Shock crossed his features at your reply. You noticed his cheeks turn a shade of red, rubbing the back of his neck. You smirked, “Don’t feel special. I’ve just been busy.”

He shook his head, biting back a smile. “I’d never be stupid enough to feel special about that.”

Laughing, you leaned your back against one of the lockers, tapping your chin, “Have you ever ate pussy and the girl complained?”

His eyes flashed.

“Only for more.”

The bell rang, signaling that class was about to begin in five minutes. Snorting at his reply, you walked over to him, tracing your fingers over his muscles beneath his thin t-shirt, a black jacket hanging off his shoulders. His scent surrounded you as your eyes flickered up into his, sending him a wink before patting his left peck, “To be continued.”

You walked away, hearing him chuckle.

And so the game went on…

for days.

During lunch, he whispered a question to you that you couldn’t have answered—which he knew.

“You ever dream about me?”

You couldn’t answer that. You would never admit to it, but yeah, you dreamt of him twice before. One of them was with him in between your thighs, and honestly, you wouldn’t have minded admitting that. It wasn’t that personal. But the second one, it was of you two on a date. You remember it vividly. Walking at the park, hand in hand, his head digging into your neck as you stared up at the sky. It made you feel warm inside whenever you thought about it—but still. You vowed to never tell him. It would ruin the system you two had, and you liked it the way it was.

Since you couldn’t answer, you two left the table before he fucked you in the restroom. It was hot, to say the least. His hand was slapped against your mouth, cries and pleas being muffled, as his thrusts were brutal and relentless. Fucking at school, it was fun, but also horrifying. You worried that a teacher would walk in, or even worse, one of your friends. You and Elliot tried your best to hide this thing from everyone, since you hung out with two very different groups, and didn’t want to mesh social classes.

Then when you two were at the mall, he refused to answer your question, which was—

“Which one of my friends do you wanna fuck?”

Elliot was a shy person. He didn’t want there to be awkward tension, so he kept his mouth shut, which resulted in your hand finding his crotch. The two of you were sitting in the food court, near the back area, where people had rarely passed by. His eyes widened, hands flying to yours, “Are you fucking insane? We’ll get caught, bro,” he hissed, making you giggle,

“Relax. Just be quiet,” you waited for him to nod. Consent was important. He bit his lip, eyes lighting up before he nodded. Smiling to yourself, your hand unzipped his jeans before your small fingers slipper beneath the waistband of his boxers. He was soft in your hand. Beginning to rub it gently, your eyes focused on his facial expression. It was blank, but his teeth was piercing into his plump bottom lip, a heavy breath exiting his nose as he began to harden against your palm. Grabbing him into your hand, you began to pull slowly, easing him into full hardness, “This is so hot. I’m a fucking genius for thinking of this game.”

His eyes rolled, inhaling sharply as you quickened your pumping, “F—Fuck off, fuck—“

Your brows rose, “Huh? Cat got your tongue?” You used his own words against him, running your thumb over his sticky tip. His hips jerked from beneath the table, a group of giggling girls walking past the two of you. With innocent round eyes, you repeated the action, causing him to bite down on his knuckle to refrain from crying out. Squeezing his eyes shut, he ran a hand through his curls,

“You bitch,” he breathed, holding back moans.

You giggled, leaning closer to him before improving your pace. You felt his stomach clench against your arm as you leaned into his ear, “This bitch is going to make you cum all over her fingers in front of everyone,” your tongue poked out to lick the shell of his ear, just as he did to you, “And there’s nothing you can do about it, except to cum.”

Another person walked by, giving you two a suspicious look. Smirking, you added, “Looks like someone caught us. They’re gonna see you cum, too, if you don’t do it now.”

His hands flew to the table, gripping the edge until his knuckles turned white. “Fuck I’m cumming.”

You watched in awe as he threw his head back, nose facing the sky, lips falling open into a silent moan as a pained look crossed his face. Warm liquid spilled all over your hand. That was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. His cheeks were rosy from lust, angular jaw flexing as he panted heavily. Removing your hand from down below, you checked to see if the person was still there, and felt relief when you spotted them being gone. Thank god. You didn’t want to actually get caught. You only said that because you knew it would turn him on.

Wiping your hand with a napkin, Elliot wiped the sweat off his forehand before muttering a tired fuck.

Kicking your feet back and forth on the bed, you flipped the page of the book you were currently engrossed in. Laying on your stomach on Elliot’s bed, he was stationed beside you, sitting on his bottom as he rolled a joint swiftly with his skilled fingers. Faintly muttering the words from the page to yourself, you heard Elliot sniffle from your left, “I have a question.”

You didn’t remove your eyes from the book, but your tummy twirled with excitement.

“Shoot.”

You didn’t hear him speak again, making you frown, before snapping your head over at him. He avoided eye contact with you, plucking the joint into his mouth, and looked to the side. His shoulders sunk as he sighed heavily, “Do you…y’know…have any feelings for me like that?”

When his eyes flew to yours, searching for an answer, you blinked in confusion. You hadn’t thought about it much, but it was like he had brought your thoughts back up to the surface. You did like him. You had grown feelings for him, but you were also too scared of finding out if he felt the same way. So instead you cleared your throat, letting out a laugh afterwards before hitting his leg gently with your book, “Pass.”

His jaw clenched, “Just answer the question.”

You’d rather die.

Sitting up, you crawled over to him before getting into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. He looked down at you with a stone-cold look, the smell of weed and cologne filling your senses. You leaned forward, feeling high from how his eyes stared at you, pecking his jaw, “I said pass. Do whatever you want to me,” you mumbled, pulling back to wink at him, “You win.”

He dodged the kiss you tried to give him, hurting your ego. Your brows drew together as he sniffled, wiping his nose, and looked away from you again.

“Elliot?”

“It wasn’t part of the game,” he gulped, looking back over at you. Your chest sunk, “I wanna know if you feel anything for me, real shit. I don’t wanna keep hooking up like it’s some secret. Like I’m some secret.”

Where was all this coming from?

“I thought you liked this,” you replied, “You even said that the rush was fun. Why complicate things?”

His jaw locked, eyes dead set on you.

“Quit fucking around and answer the damn question.”

He hadn’t ever used that tone with you, except when it was purely sexual. You gulped visibly, eyes averted his gaze, not understanding why you were so against confessing how you truly felt. You weren’t ready for a relationship, but you also wanted Elliot all to himself. At your reluctance to speak, he scoffed, picking you up and gently pushing you off his lap, “Elliot—“

“Forget it, just fucking forget it,” he muttered, running a hand over his mouth. He walked over to the window, looking out the sheer glass,

“You should go.”

“Elli—“

His head snapped over to you, almost scary how quickly his tone changed. It was icy and bitter. His eyes were dark and unforgiving as lips were pinched, tone plucked, “Just get out. Go hop on someone other dudes’ dick. I’m finished with you and your stupid childish games, so please—leave me the fuck alone.”

Hurt soared through you at his words. Standing up from the bed, your teeth gritted,

“Fuck you, Elliot,” you pointed a finger in his face, “—and you know what? I will. I bet he won’t be as pathetic as you. Even make me cum.”

And with that, you spun around, heading for the exit. As you walked through his door, you heard him shout at you,

“Good luck, darling!”

“What the fuck?” Kat shouted at your words, eyes wide. Basically, you had just came clean to your friends about Elliot’s secret relationship with you. She brought her sparkley purple vape up to her lips, raising her brows before nodding understandingly, “I mean—he’s cute. He has a face tat, though, but we can work around it.”

Maddy leaned over her dresser, and was reapplying her lip gloss, until her head snapped over to you, a glare narrowing her eyes, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, bitch. He smells like a dispensary,” she shook her head disapprovingly, “Guys like him only like to fuck. Kinda freaky that he admitted his feelings to you.”

You shrugged your shoulders, sighing before fiddling with the baby pink covers of Maddy’s bed, “I think I might like him too, though.”

Your voice was quiet, but the three girls heard you clearly, a series of gasps and huh? swirling around the room. Before anyone could respond, Cassie was staring at herself in the mirror, tweezing her already perfectly plucked brows. Craning her back over to you, her bright eyes held a warm undertone as she softly smiled, “I think that if you like him, and he likes you, then you should date. Simple.”

“This isn’t some fucking fairytale,” Maddy rolled her eyes, completely turning towards you. She crossed her thin arms over her chest, sending you a firm look; lips pursed and brows straight, “If he actually told you the shit that you claimed he said, then don’t waste your time on him. Trust me—I’ve had enough experience with toxic ass guys that bitch about the stupidest shit, and then when they’re horny, they’re like,” she pulled on a fake voice, earning giggles from Kat, “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, I love you,” she placed her small hand onto her chest, raising a sassy brow, “Men ain’t shit, Y/N. Know your worth. Make him get on his knees for you.”

Kat nodded along, “Yeah,” she tilted her head, “Is he good at head? Because that could alter my perspect—“

“Whore,” Maddy cackled, throwing one of her jackets at the girl. You girls laughed as you flopped backwards on the bed, letting out a dreamy sigh.

“He made me cum three times in a row.”

“Holy shit—“

“The fuck—?”

“Really?”

Maddy pursed her lips, “You should go get that dick, before I do. Stoner dude is growing on me.”

Running a hand through your hair, you sent her the bird before giggling at her words. You were still angry about the words he spoke though, “Yeah, I won’t speak to him unless he apologizes,” you concluded, nodding your head. The girls hummed in agreement, “If he does.”

Maddy faced the mirror once again, adding some lip liner to her plump, glossy lips.

“If he likes you like he said, he will.”

You hoped she was right.

The sun was slowly setting below the horizon, signaling that it was getting closer to the party you all were about to head to. Your mind wondered if Elliot was going to be there, hints of adrenaline sparking into your chest instead of your core, which alarmed you. You had really begun to like him. Before, you wouldn’t be excited to see him, you would be excited to get some dick.

The theory scared you, and a small part of you hoped he wouldn’t apologize, so that you’d never have to speak to him again. Relationships were your biggest fear. Giving yourself to someone completely, relying on them for support, having another responsibility other than yourself. It wasn’t your thing, but when you thought of Elliot’s dark and deep eyes, the idea didn’t seem half bad.

By the time you had all finished getting ready, a glossy smile had spread to your lips. You looked hot. Your skirt was a bit too short, showing off just the underside of your ass if you put a pep in your step, bouncing on the balls of your feet. A purple tank top had stretched over your breasts, a pair of hoop earrings hidden behind your curled hair. You borrowed a pair of Maddy’s black wedges, which completed the look, and felt Maddy smack your ass, “Bitch, you getting dicked down tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, watching as Kat bent Maddie over and pretended to fuck her—the shorter girl rolling her eyes back as she let out high pitched moans. Cassie threw her arm around you, dragging you out the room, “Remember, he said he liked you, so don’t worry. It’ll all be good,” she reassured in a soft tone, making you smile. She was more of the innocent one in the group, but was the most sexual active, “Let’s have a good time tonight, yeah?”

You nodded, reflecting her smile.

“Let’s do it.”

The ride there was hectic. Kat was already half drunk, slurring out random shit while Maddy giggled beside her, highly intoxicated and high on weed. You thanked god that you had made it to the house in once piece, getting out of that car as soon as the wheels stopped rolling against the pavement. Pulling up your skirt a bit, you interlocked your arm with Cassie, both of you sliding out of the backseat and walking into the house party.

Right away, you heard a few whistles, catching the eyes of a bunch of teenage guys. Their whistles flew part yours ears, one dude’s eyes widening to the size of golf balls when they landed on Cassie. Your blonde haired friend sent you a smirk, which you returned, before pulling her close against you, “It’s gonna be a fun night, babe.”

She hummed, walking closely beside you. Your shoulders touched, “Hell yeah it is, babe.”

The two of you grabbed some drinks, before heading to the dance floor, backs rubbing against each other as you dipped out of the red cup. The vodka stung the back of your throat, threatening to climb back up, but you pushed it down as you swayed your hips in tune to the music. Grabbing your hand, you were spun by Cassie, before you two giggled. As your heels clicked against the floor, the lights began to shift into different colors, adding onto the buzz that began to infiltrate your mind. Your fingertips slid up and down the flesh of your own waist, feeling a pair of eyes on you from the corner of the room.

Your own snapping open, your brow rose to look to the side, a bolt of electricity flying through you when you spotted Elliot leaning against one of the walls. He had a joint in his hands, his friend Rue standing beside him, the both of them keeping to themselves. Your jaw clenched as he licked his lips, eyes flickering yo and down your figure, making your tummy do backflips.

Thinning your eyes, you almost have into his puppy dog look. But then you realized what he had said about you, and your lips pursed, rolling your eyes before spinning around and storming off into the kitchen. You needed another drink. Squeezing past a few sweaty bodies, nose scrunching at the smell of alcohol and weed lingering in the air, you grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the table and poured some into your cup.

“Y/N, right?”

Flinching, your eyes rounded as some dude approached you. His hair was dark and shiny, fluffy strands slightly falling over his eyes. He dressed preppy though, a red polo t-shirt stretched over his sculpted chest and a pair of khakis to match them. His eyes were fox like, making a warm blush hit your cheek, “I’m uh, Connor,” he offered you his hand, flashing a charming smile, “I’ve seen you around school, and to be honest, I’ve always had a crush on you.”

He laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Can’t believe I’m admitting that.”

You hit your lip, raising a brow as you sipped your drink.

“Oh yeah? Or are you just saying that so you could fuck me?” You smirked, his face turning paler at your words. When he began to nervously laugh, you placed a hand in his arm, feeling his muscles tense beneath your palm, “I’m fucking with you, Connor. Chill out.”

He licked his lips, “I mean—I wouldn’t reject—“

“Come with me,” you heard a familiar voice behind you, and you didn’t need to turn around. Your shoulders perked up as his hot breath fanned the back of your neck, making the hairs on your skin shoot up. Chad, or whatever this dudes’ name was, averted his gaze to Elliot behind you, confusion growing on his features. His voice rasped in your ear, “Come on, Y/N.”

His hand wrapped around your small wrist, and you rolled your eyes before caving in, “Ugh, fine.”

You painted a fake smile on your lips, “It was nice meeting you, Chad. I have to handle something, though,” you informed him, and the brunette narrowed his eyes before tipping his head towards Elliot, “Why? ‘Cause of him?”

Elliot chuckled, taking a step before you. Your eyes widened as his chest almost hit the boy’s, smirking as he shot him a shit-eating grin, “Face it, chump. She rejected you,” he then brushed past his shoulder, leading you behind him. You bit back a smile at the look on his face, embarrassed and anger filled. Elliot slapped his back, “Maybe ditch the polos, bro. This isn’t an office party.”

And with a cackle, you let him lead you up the stairs. Your eyes caught Maddy’s, who’s mouth dropped open at the sight of you and Elliot—hand in hand. You send her a wink before going up the steps, finding an empty room, then he pushed it open. You pulled your hand away from his as you both walked into a white bedroom, coming off as a guest room, that was vacant. The door shut behind you, and you leaned your back against it, cocking your head to the side, “Okay. Talk. Times ticking, Elliot.”

His back flexed, letting out a cold chuckle. You gulped as he spun around. Eyeliner coated his eyes, making your core throb. Holy shit. You never thought a dude wearing makeup could turn you on, but your teeth sink into your bottom lip, chewing on it as his eyes hooded. He didn’t take a step towards you. Instead, he sniffled, “You want me to tell the truth?”

You frowned, irritated.

“Obviously, idiot.”

His voice became hoarser, taking a single step towards you. You felt yourself grow smaller as his nostrils flared, fists balling at his sides. Adrenaline began to kick into your blood as he smirked,

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He took another step closer. “Seeing you with that dude made me want to fucking rip his organs out through his mouth.”

You think you just came.

Breathless at his words, one of his hands slapped onto the door beside you—and he did the same to the other, trapping you in between them. His face slightly softened as your eyes bored into his, “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it,” he apologized suddenly, eyes flickering down to your lips. He sighed slightly, looking back up into your eyes, “If you don’t like me, I’ll get over it. But if you do, I promise you won’t be able to leave this room without being marked by me.”

Your core pooled at his words. He leaned closer, digging his face into the crook of your neck. He didn’t kiss it—he just staid there. Vulnerable. And then when he pulled his head back, his nose bumped yours, warm breath fanning your lips. You couldn’t handle it. Nodding quickly, your hand found his curls, “I like you,” you mumbled before smashing your lips against his. Almost instantly, he pressed his body to yours, kissing you back, “I really like you, actually.”

“And I’m really fucking sorry,” he panted against you, moving his lips over to your neck. You moaned softly as his fingers squeezed the sides of your waist beneath your tank top, cold and long. His teeth nipped at a sensitive area behind your ear, making you gasp before letting out a whimper, “I like you so much, but baby, I’m gonna fuck you like I hate you.”

And with that, he threw you onto the bed. He climbed on top of you, the both of you removing your clothes in almost a world record speed, giggling as you kept getting caught in them. As soon as your undergarments were off, he lined up quickly at your entrance, looking down at you with wide eyes, “Can I fuck my pussy, baby?” He rubbed his leaking head over your clit, making you squirm. His puffy lips smirked, “Come on, answer me.”

“Yes, fuck,” you cried out, “Fuck me, Ellie.”

You both gasped as he pushed inside, his thick head vanishing behind your soaking folds. It felt so good for him to be inside of you again. He didn’t let you adjust, instead fucking you brutally, holding onto the top of the headboard as his hips bruised against yours. Your tits bounced as your bottom lip trembled, reaching up to his waist to slow him down, “S—Slow—dow—“

One of his hands flew to your throat, making your eyes round, a jolt bolt of pleasure shooting into your pussy. His fingers lightly squeezed around the flesh, shutting you up, “Take it, pretty girl. That’s all you know how to do, poor thing,” he grunted, “All you can do is cum on my cock over and over again—until I’m finished with you.”

Your eyes rolled back as his thumb flew to your clit, tightly circling the sensitive nub, “Need you to tighten this pretty little pussy around my big cock, baby,” he rasped out, feeling you clench onto him, “Need to stretch this pussy out again, it’s been too long.”

Your eyes crossed as you felt your walls flutter around his cock, stomach muscles tensing as you cried out his name. He smirked down at you, watching you fall apart completely and only for him, pulling out his cock and flipping you over. You cringed on top of him, feeling sensitive and sore, but his sweet words flared your chest, “Bounce on it, pretty girl. Use my cock to make you cum again.”

You whined, but nodded, lifting yourself up and down his thick length. Your hands flew to your breasts as he watched you with a lazy smile, pushing yourself to another high. But then you noticed him beginning to meet your thrusts, “Ellie, you can’t cum in me. There no condom,” you whimpered, about go get off of him, “Cum in my mou—“

“Fuck,” he ignored you, hands flying to your ass as he began to piston his hips into yours from the bottom. A scream tore from your lips as he practically kept shoving you back down into his cock, “Elli—Elliot—“ you stuttered as he kept his pace, a tear rolling down your cheek from how good it fucking felt. His mouth dropped open as you tried again, “You can’t—Ellie—you can’t—“

His thrusts became even more harsh, and after one more, you both shook against each other before cumming at the same time. Your hands slapped against his chest as you collapsed, slowly making each other’s releases as you came down. Blowing your hair out your face, you felt him slide out of you, making you hiss with gritted teeth, “Guess I need to get plan b—What are you doing?”

Sweat dripped down his temples, as he climbed on top of you, and made himself eye to eye level with your cunt. Forcing your thighs open, your hips jerked as he spread open your leaking folds. Your eyes popped out of your sockets, a high pitched cry escaping your throat as his lips wrapped around your clit once again. Hand flying to his curls, you pulled weakly, feet planting onto his shoulders as he ate your swollen and glossy pussy.

“Taste so sweet,” he mumbled, “My favorite pussy.”

What made your stomach begin to tense up again, was when he laid his tongue flatly on your clit, white beads of both his cum and your cum on his pink muscle. When he didn’t care, hollowing his cheeks, sucking on your pearl one more time—your legs gave out as another orgasm was forced out of you.

“Wanna make this pussy come one one time,” he groaned, eyes looking into yours, “Come on.”

You couldn’t let out a sound, but pushed his head away from you, hearing him laugh before crawling back over beside you. You took in a deep breath, still gasping from what he just did to you.

“I’ll give you money for the plan b.”

You waved hand, tired. “It’s cool. Kinda wanted you to cum in me anyways, it’s so hot.”

He chuckled, looking over at you. His smile slipped as his eyes melted into yours.

“Y/N.”

You hummed, “Hm?”

“I think I’m like, in love with you.”

#elliot #elliot euphoria #elliot imagines #euphoria #elliot smut #elliot x you #elliot x y/n #elliot imagine #elliot x reader #elliot is mean

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thisisgonnafuxkinkillme · 3 years

Text

POV: You Got Wayyy Too High

Warnings: Drug use (weed lol)

Aizawa Shouta/ Eraserhead

“Hey, what are you doing?” asked Aizawa as he plopped his bag at the door. You were trying to smoke weed from a pipe, but instead of lighting the actual herb, you were trying to heat it up from the bottom of the pipe.

You’d never smoked weed, but wanted to try it and bought the supplies from a local smoke shop, as well as buying some good stuff from your friend.

Unfortunetly, you also didn’t bother to look up how to actually use a pipe, instead just relying on knowledge you gained from drug documentaries.

This meant that you only knew how people heated up heroin with a flame under the spoon, which meant that surely you could do the same with weed.

“No, no, no, no. Stop that,” he ordered. You were his age, but nonetheless still buckled under his stern tone.

“Look, do you need me to show you how to do it?” he asked, gently taking the glass pipe from your hand. You nodded.

“Watch carefully,” he ordered, as he properly lit up the herb as he inhaled the smoke. He then passed it to you, watching you carefully to make sure you were doing it right. Soon, you got the hang of it.

Even sooner, though, you were a coughing mess.

“Calm it down, there. Don’t take huge puffs. You’re not impressing anyone here, y/n,” he scolded, taking another puff. He did it effortlessly, as if he’d done it for years. (He has.)

You wanted to impress him, though, even though he seemed to not care what you did. You just wanted to prove to him that you were ~cool~.

Well, this ended up in you looking very... uncool.

While Aizawa was chilling with a pretty decent high, you were laid across the bed, starfish style, blasting music in your ears. You were honestly vibing though, so Aizawa didn’t mess with you. For now.

The next day, he definitely teased you a little bit about how totally out of it you were, and how you listened to the same song on loop for 3 hours.

“How did you know that?” You asked, cocking a brow.

“Uh, because your headphones weren’t plugged in?”

Yagi Toshinori/ All Might

He was smoking when you came home, and though he tried to hide it, you smelled it. He acted as if he was just caught as a 17 year old in his mom’s house.

“Uh, no, it’s nothing! I...I don’t do anything like that!” He insisted.

“Toshi, come on. I can smell it,” you smiled. He covered his face.

“Please, please, keep this between you and I...I only do it because it helps with the pain and-”

You cut him off, “ I dont care why you do it, just lemme have some already!”

Of course, you were just teasing him, and he knew that, but he couldn’t help but ask, “...You smoke?”

You shook your head playfully.

“If you’ll let me, I’d like to try some, though!”

He passed it to you, and you took a way-too-long drag. Instantly, you were doubled over, coughing and hacking your lungs out.

He patted your back firmly.

“Since this is your first time, you’re gonna cough a little. Just try to take smaller puffs and take deep breaths. There you go.”

Once you recovered, and Yagi got his turn, he handed the joint back to you. It continued to be passed back and forth between you two until it was finally no longer than a centimeter.

For a moment, you both just chilled out on the couch together, just vibing. That was until Toshinori noticed your goofy, dreamy facial expression. He chuckled to himself, but that was all you needed to become hysterical, laughing so hard that you couldn’t breathe. Seeing you laugh so much of course made Toshi a mess as well, which only added to your decent into utter madness.

Eventually, though, you both calmed down, and Toshi excused himself so that he could go take a quick bath. He often did this whenever he smoked, so that the warm water could aid even more in soothing his aching muscles and creaky bones.

So you were left alone. Totally unattended. At first, everything was totally fine.

However, as you started to actually feel the effects of the herb, you began to panic.

Is this normal? Does everyone else feel like this when they smoke? Oh God, this isn’t right...oh fuck, I’m gonna be the first dumbass to OD on THC...fuck...

Thoughts whizzed past your brain, every single one making sure you knew how totally fucked you were.

Tears streamed silently down your cheeks as you counted your pulse with two fingers on your wrist, but you coulnd’t find a pulse.

oh fuck...i’m probably going to pass out any minute now...it’s all over...

Images of your final goodbyes to everyone you loved flashed just behind your eyes.

“How’re you holding up, pumpkin?” asked Toshi, coming back from the bath, in a robe and his golden hair still damp.

You looked at him, your eyes red and puffy.

“Toshi...I’m...I’m dying...I love you, okay?” you murmured. He would have laughed, all except he saw the genuine fear in your eyes.

He sat down next to you, surrounding you with all of his lanky limbs.

“You’re not dying, honey. What you’re feeling right now is totally normal, I promise. Take some nice, deep breaths for me. Come on. There you go. Good.”

He cradled you there for a good while, until he felt your tense muscles finally slacken, and your breathing evened out.

Toshi made a mental note to never let you smoke that much ever again, guilt pinching at his sides.

Fatgum/Taishiro Toyomitsu

You had taken an edible cookie from your friend. She told you it was just a small bit in there, just enough for you to feel something.

You decided to be modest, eating just half of the cookie. You didn’t notice any effects, and out of sheer boredom you decided to go ahead and eat the rest of it. No harm in that, right?

Well, an hour later, it kicked in. You were expecting to feel something interesting, but you definately weren’t expecting anything like this at all.

Everything seemed so far away. Even your breathing sounded like it was coming down a long corridor and echoing to your ears. You could feel your soul swimming in your body.

Fatgum, who you lived with, luckily finished his hero duties early, and walked into the house joyfully as usual. He called out your name. You didn’t reply.

His large footsteps could be heard, but you were too busy thinking about how weird breathing sounds to notice.

Fatgum soon found you collapsed on the bathroom floor, face pressed against the cool tile.

Immediately, he propped you up against the wall, looking into your eyes with great concern.

“What did you take? Y/n, look at me. What did you take?”

You lazily looked at him, your face completely serious. As serious as it could be, anyway.

“...i...it was...edible...” you mumbled out. As soon as he understood, he was laughing hysterically.

“s..stop...s not funny...” you grumbled, punching him in the gut.

“Alright, alright... let’s get you into bed. You’ll feel much better once you wake up,” he smiled, picking you up and bringing you into the bedroom.

You quickly were comforted by the warm, heavy comforter. Fatgum took a moment to look at you in your groggy state, trying his best to hold back a laugh. It was so painfully obvious that you’d never done anything like this in your life. His only regret was not being around to witness your ascent into cloud 9.

Soon, though, you had drifted into dreamland.

Hizashi Yamada

You locked yourself in your bathroom, sneakily lighting up the joint you bought off of your friend. Your boyfriend was in his room, playing Fortnite or some shit, and frankly, you were embarrassed to smoke in front of him. You knew that he’d definately find something to roast you about, and he was relentless.

A couple minutes after you lit up, though, the door was basically busted down.

“HEY, HEY! You better be planning on sharing some of that!” yelled Hizashi, his hand already out and waiting. He still had his headset on, but you saw with relief that his mic was turned off. You passed it to him.

“Augh! Where the hell didja get this weak shit, y/n? Nah, this ain’t gonna cut it,” he complained, putting it out.

“Hey! I got that from my friend, dude! What the hell?” you frowned. Before you could be too mad at the waste, though, Hizashi pulled out a small wooden box from under his bed. Opening it, he revealed his stash of entirely too much pot.

You covered your mouth, stifiling a laugh. How the fuck could you have not smelled it?

Within five minutes, he’d rolled up a blunt, and was passing it to you, already lit.

It was gone after a little over half an hour, and you could already feel the effects. Your eyes were dry, your stomach craving junk food, and your brain craving chill vibes.

He returned to his game, unbothered but his volume definately toned down about 5 notches. He was a lot more chill than you’d ever seen him act, ever.

You found your way into the kitchen.

Once his game was over, he met you in there. You were in front of the fridge, pulling out thing after thing. By the time he’d gotten to you, you had eaten half a jar of pickles, three pieces of cake (with your bare hands), drank a bunch of soda, and you were headed for the chips that were sitting idly on the top of the fridge.

“oh, God...what the fuck are ya up to, dude?” he groaned. He did not want to deal with this mess.

You grinned at him. “I dunno, maan... look dude could you just get me these up here? please bro...” you giggled. He sighed dramatically, taking them.

However, instead of handing them over to you, with your dirty little fingers, he ate them.

“stoppp, bro, please lemme get some!” you pouted. He acted as if he couldn’t hear you, leaving the kitchen. You followed after him, kicking him in the shins.

Still, he didn’t seem to notice.

“Hizashi, come on, maaannnn!”

He laid himself on the bed, covering himself with blankets. He pulled out his phone, calling you. “Y/n, I miss you so much, man. Come chill out!” he spoke into the phone, trying his best not to break the act. You were absolutely furious at this point, punching at him.

“I’m right here, you doughnut!!” you groaned. Dramatically sighing, Hizashi frowned, “I really wish y/n was here to sesh with me...” all while still eating the chips. You jumped on top of him.

Finally, you caught him off gaurd, grabbed the chips, and locked yourself back up in the bathroom.

This time, though, he just left you be.

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snackleggg · 3 years

Text

City of splintering hopes: Chapter 2 "Cave of stars"

~~~

Ao3

~~~

Danny woke up Saturday morning feeling well rested and refreshed, so he was immediately suspicious about what the day would bring. The last time he had woken up feeling so well was before The accident so roughly 2 years of either nightmares, insomnia, or a ghost waking him had him jumpy at the prospect of a good night's sleep.

He did all his usual checks to make sure nothing was wrong but as he headed down for breakfast it seemed that everything was perfectly fine. Suspicious.

Danny just shrugged though as he ate his almost certainly ecto-contaminated cereal before leaving the house as quickly as possible to avoid helping his parents test any new inventions. Of course he always kept an eye on whatever they were creating, in case it was anything actually dangerous he would need to destroy but the day had started suspiciously well and he wanted to keep that good times streak going for as long as possible. Not getting hit in the head with the boo-merang was something he was eager to do.

He quickly met up with Tucker and Sam at the Nasty burger but as they talked about school and which ghosts they were betting on appearing today Danny felt weighed down as the events of yesterday found their way back to the forefront of his thoughts.

"Hey, earth to Danny" Sam said, snapping her fingers infront of his face. Oh, he must have spaced out.

"We know you wanna be an astronaut dude but don't you think it's a little early?" Tucker joked between stuffing his face full of fries.

Danny chuckled at his friends attempt at humor but it came out more forced than anything "Sorry, just thinking about some stuff. Can I get your guys opinion on something?" Danny asked and both Sam and Tucker gave him their full attention as he started explaining what had happened yesterday.

At the end of the recounting Tucker exclaimed "Yes! You should totally go!" Loud enough to get a few heads turned but he quieted himself down and soon everyone at the fast food joint was once again minding their own business.

"It does sound like a good opportunity. Plus it's not like anything bad is guaranteed to happen. My prediction is worst case scenario you come back with nothing new" Sam said with a shrug.

"Yeah, I guess your right. I mean it's just some old abandoned buildings and stuff they might've left behind, nothing that can hurt right?" Danny reasoned, finally he was starting to get over his slight paranoia.

"Exactly! But if you do find anything cool be sure to tell us about it" Tucker added and Danny nodded along. Of course he would tell his friends, they knew pretty much everything about eachother and would always come to eachother when they needed to talk to someone.

"Well if you want to go today then you should get going, the Far Frozen is a 2 hour flight and you don't know how long you'll need to travel from there to get to these ruins" Sam said. Danny had also explained to them his feelings on not wanting to wait too long if he did decide to go and she could tell that Danny's curiosity that he inherited from his parents wouldn't let him just walk away from this one.

"Oh, yeah you're right!" Danny shot up but before he could move he looked at his two friends with concern "You guys gonna be okay protecting Amity on your own?" Danny asked.

"It's all good. We have our thermos' and some Fenton anti-ghost weapons that actually work so we should be fine!" Tucker waved off Danny's concerns.

"But, if anything does happen that we can't handle well call you. That ease your worries?" Sam asked with a smirk and Danny rolled his eyes fondly before waving goodbye and heading home.

It was the same as what he did yesterday. Go through the portal invisibly, make the long fly to the Far Frozen and go see Frostbite. Of course now it was for different reasons than a check up or just the usual friendly visit.

Danny's thoughts had nearly spiralled three times on the flight over to the Far Frozen but he had been getting better at grounding himself so he managed to catch any worries or doubts that may have caused him to turn around.

Finally he landed in the freezing tundra and almost immediately was engulfed in a hug from the large Yeti. His white fur made him blend into the surroundings so well Danny hadn't spotted him initially.

"Great One!" Frostbite yelled happily as he put Danny back down. It didn't matter how many times or how often Danny visited Frostbite was always ecstatic to see him.

"Hey Frosty" Danny gave his old mentor a smile before awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he had for as long as he could remember.

"Have you... thought about what I suggested?" Frostbite asked, immediately understanding why Danny was here. It was always easy to forget that Frostbite was alot smarter than he seemed, he had given Danny wise words of advice on more than one occasion and it was obvious when he was around his tribe how great his leadership skills were.

"Yeah I have and... do you think you could? Take me to the ruins? I want to know more about people like me and this might be the only way..." Danny rambled a little. He didn't know why he felt like he needed to justify himself to Frostbite. Frostbite knew why he was here already, he had suggested it, so why did Danny feel like this was something he needed an excuse for?

"Of course. I can't show you to the ruins themselves unfortunately but I can show you how to get to them" Frostbite said as he turned around and started walking away from Danny, making a 'follow me' gesture.

Danny was as stiff as a board as he followed Frostbite. Hypervigilant and examining all his surroundings closely like he expected something to jump out and attack him.

They walked down a path Danny hadn't seen before, it lead away from where Danny knew the Yeti tribe to be living, leading further and further into the tundra and up the ice mountains.

After maybe around an hour of walking in silence, only the wind and crunch of snow under their feet filling it, they came to a stop on the mountain side. Infront of them stood a large entrance to a very dark cave.

"Through here, on the other side are the ruins" Frostbite gestured and seemed to wait for Danny to go in but Danny hesitated.

"Why can't you lead me the rest of the way?" He asked.

"This cave leads to the hidden lands, as some call them, it is where the Halfas once lived. Only a Halfa or those given special permission to pass can make it through the labyrinth of the cave, I have tried but I always end up coming back out this side despite never remembering turning around" Frostbite explained and Danny just gulped nervously.

"If only a Halfa could get through then how did Pariah Dark attack the Halfas, shouldn't they have been safe in these 'Hidden lands'?" Danny asked nervously.

"I... do not know. Many of the allies of the Halfas thought the same thing. There was a legend- no, a rumour that a ghost that had the ability to track Halfas helped Pariah Dark but that's all that was, a rumour" Frostbite shrugged, a thoughtful look on his face.

Danny nerves weren't calming down but something in his core urged him to go through the cave. He didn't know what it was but ever since The accident Danny's instincts had always been trustworthy so he took a steadying breath before walking forward into the cave.

He heard Frostbite wish him good luck as he entered.

The cave was alot warmer than he was expecting. Of course thanks to his ice core he couldn't get cold necessarily but the change in temperature didn't go unnoticed by him. The light from the snow white tundra quickly disappeared the further in he went until he was engulfed in complete darkness, apart from the soft glow he himself was giving off. The sounds of the howling winds had faded until they could barely be heard anymore and Danny was really considering turning around and leaving because the idea of stumbling around in a dark labyrinth cave wasn't exactly the most appealing.

Then he blinked as he noticed something, a light.

Not really it was more like a dot, a small dot of light in the dark.

He decided to continue walking and the longer he walked the more of these small dots of the light appeared until there were so many it lit up the icy cave in a pale glow, the lights all reflecting off of the ice.

Danny stopped as he stared in wonder at the sight.

The first thing that came to Danny's mind were the stars, the night sky. It was beautiful how the small points of light work together to illuminate the dark cave.

Then Danny noticed something as he continued walking. The dots were disappearing behind him but appearing infront of him as he walked. Then he took a turn and the dots stopped appearing.

"Huh..." Danny backtracked and took the other turn. The dots started appearing again, lighting the way for the young Halfa.

"Cool" Danny whispered into the silence of the cave was he followed the direction of the dots of light. Finally Danny turned a corner and he saw the end of the cave, an end that even from the distance Danny could tell didn't lead out into the cold tundra of the Far Frozen. As he closed the distance he could see the green swirling clouds of ectoplasm only they were lighter? A much lighter green than that of the normal sky of the Ghost Zone.

Finally Danny exited the cave and found his core humming nicely at the sight before him.

A city.

A large and grand one, made of a pale sandy coloured stone that reminded Danny of the housing they had in Egypt. The city was still a distance away so Danny couldn't see the architecture too closely but he could see a path leading down the no longer snowy mountain side to a bridge between the city and the cliff drop of the mountain.

A strange thing Danny noticed was the fact that the city didn't rest on an island that was floating, suspended in mid air. Instead the island stretched downwards into the dark abyss of the Ghost Zone, as if connected to solid ground all the way down in it's depths.

Danny was ecstatic.

He quickly flew down to the bridge, and walked it's length up to the gates of the city.

Standing at the city's ground level made it all the more grand and imposing.

But it also made Danny now notice the ruins part of it. The gate, that Danny had no doubt was once grand and tall standing, was nothing but rubble and fallen stone.

Danny took a fortifying breath.

Up until then Danny hadn't really thought about what he was truly walking into. This wasn't just a museum or some natural history tour. These were ruins, this was the home of a slaughter people. This place wasn't just their home, it was probably their grave as well.

He needed to be careful.

He couldn't go walking into this like a naive child, he came here to understand and to understand he needed to treat this place with the respect it deserved.

So he flew into the city, hopefully he could learn something from what was left behind.

~~~

First | Previous | Next

~~~

I'll be tagging all content do to with this story with the tag City of splintering hopes so if guys want to you can follow the story easier. You can also use that tag for any questions or content you guys make of the story!

#danny phantom #city of splintering hopes #chapter 2 #danny fenton #dp frostbite #tucker foley #sam mason #danny phantom fic #my writing #danny phantom au #fanfic #dp fanfic

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sanguineness-wings · 3 years

Text

home early

Pairing: Hawks x gn!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ minors do not interact )

Warnings: Sexual content, hand jobs, lap sitting, all Hawks focused/receiving, established relationship

i haven’t written smut since 2013 and it shows. please be gentle. this is totally self indulgent. i’m always daydreaming about showering hawks with love while i work from home

The file you were working on (named final2-revision5_FINAL-FOR-REAL.psd) was saved with a relieved sigh. This client had been beyond difficult to work with and you were more than ready to be rid of them. With the file sent off for approval, hopefully for the last time, you stretched out your stiff limbs and groaned at the satisfying pops of your joints and spine. After being hunched at your computer all morning, you decided to treat yourself to a fresh cup of tea and some cookies.

When you returned to your computer and checked your email, your heart sunk at the multiple emails from the client. You swore loudly and banged your forehead against your desk a few times. You should have made coffee instead.

Hours passed with you hyper-focused on your screen and music blasting through your headphones, determined to be done with this project today, even if it killed you. Your phone sat neglected at the corner of your desk, even as it lit up with multiple text messages. You didn’t even hear your front door open sometime later. Or the voice calling for you from the living room. The press of warm lips against your cheek startled you out of your concentration, making you jump and rip the headphones from your ears.

Hawks, in all of his wind swept glory, grinned down at you, “Working hard?”

“I didn’t even hear you come in,” you breathed out, willing your heart to stop sputtering in your chest. It was honestly rare to see the hero while the sun was still up. “Did you get off patrol early?”

“Yeah.” Hawks pouted, turning to show you the little feathered nubs where his full wings should be. “I got plucked pretty bad.”

“Shit! What happened? Are you okay?” He didn’t seem hurt, but that didn’t stop you from trying to tug off his coat to make sure.

Hawks took one of your hands in his own and kissed at your knuckles soothingly, “I’m fine, chickadee. Promise. Just was a busy day. But! Bright side is I get a few days off.”

The motivation to get this stupid project done flared inside of you renewed. Nothing was going to get in between you and two whole days alone with Hawks.

“I just have a few things to finish up, then I’m all yours,” you explained as you turned back to your computer.

“Sure, I’m gonna shower quick,” Hawks said with a quick kiss to the crown of your head.

—

Warm, damp hands interrupted you sometime later as you furiously typed out an email to the client with murderous intent in every keyboard click. Hawks’ fingers ran through your hair as he hummed in your ear, “Almost done?”

“Almost…hopefully,” you grunted out, barely registering Hawks’ touch. You heard Hawks let out an exaggerated sigh.

“You promise?”

You hummed noncommittally, not breaking your gaze away from your screen. Hawks huffed loudly as he shuffled out.

—

The sun started to sink low in the sky, casting your home office in a beautiful pink and orange hue. It would have been a nice view, if you had time to admire it. But you were too busy working yourself to the bone.

You noticed a tickling at your neck and tried to brush it away, thinking it must be a piece of stray hair. But every few moments you felt the tickling again, no matter how you rearranged your hair. The tickling then traveled down your neck and into your shirt. You yelped, realizing the source of the tickling was a single tiny feather.

“Hawks! Stop it!” You shrieked as you dug around under your shirt, trying to catch the little puff of red. Hawks’ laughter reached your ears from the kitchen as you writhed, nearly falling out of your chair. He finally relented once you were red in the face with tears welling up in your eyes from the endless teasing. You shook out your shirt until the little feather fell out and returned to your work.

—

Hawks grew more restless the longer you worked, pestering you every so often for attention. But you were determined to finish up so you could relax with him tomorrow without this project looming over you. You ate dinner at your desk while Hawks sat on the floor with his own plate, chattering away about patrol or something. You were barely paying attention.

Once the plates were cleared away, Hawks’ patience wore out. He grabbed your hand away from the mouse and tugged, “Come on, that’s enough for one day, don’t you think?”

You sighed wearily and tried to shake your hand free from his. “I just have a couple more revisions.”

“I’ve been home for hours and you’ve barely looked at me!” Hawks whined, draping himself over your side dramatically.

“If I get this done now, we’ll have all day tomorrow together - Ow! No biting!”

Hawks left little stinging bites at your shoulder and neck, growling low in frustration. You grabbed at his face to push him away, squeezing his chubby cheeks between your fingers to make him look at you. “Listen. I’m patient when you have to work late, right? I just need one more hour.”

Hawks seemed to deflate a little and looked away with guilt in his eyes. You never once complained while he was away on long missions or had to cancel plans, you always understood when his job came first.

“Why don’t you sit in my lap while I finish up?” You suggested, rolling your chair back from your desk to make room for him. Hawks’ eyes immediately lit up and he eagerly scrambled to straddle your thighs. You pulled him in close by his hips as his arms looped around your neck, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Better?” You asked, smiling against his shoulder.

Hawks hummed, wiggling to press himself flush against you. “Much better.”

It was nice being able to dote on him while you worked, wishing you thought of this sooner. The weight of him against you and the smell of his sweet shampoo was grounding, soothing away your frustrations. You pressed gentle kisses to his neck to make him sigh and played with the curls at the nape of his neck with a free hand. He cooed and hummed in a low, satisfied voice when your hand snuck beneath his oversized t-shirt to pet up his back. You rubbed slow circles into his smooth skin, eating up the way he pressed into each touch.

—

“All done, baby boy,” you whispered while pressing a kiss to Hawks’ temple. He had gone completely limp in your lap from all of the petting and little affections, making you think he had fallen asleep. You warmed your hands along his bare thighs, him sporting nothing but boxer briefs, earning you a spine tingling groan from the hero. He pulled back from where his head was buried in the crook of your neck, only to lean in to for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Now you’re all mine,” Hawks murmured against your lips before his kisses turned more demanding. Your hands slid to Hawks’ ass, giving his cheeks a loving squeeze. It spurred his hips to buck against your stomach, the hard line of his cock pressing against you.

“Let me take care of you,” you sighed as Hawks’ lips found your throat. You wanted to make it up to him for basically ignoring him all day. Your hands toyed with the waist band of his briefs, loving the way you could hear his breathing hitch. Slipping inside, your fingers found the wet tip of cock, already drooling with excitement. You thumbed at the engorged head, making his hips jerk into your touch as you wrapped your hand around him, pumping him with languid strokes.

“Oh, fuck,” Hawks groaned as his head fell back, rutting into your hand. He gripped at your shoulders with trembling hands for leverage as his hips rolled. “Feels good, babe.”

You peppered kisses up his exposed neck, finding the little tender spot behind his ear to abuse by suckling at the soft skin. Hawks’ voice keened into a desperate whine as his fingers found purchase in your hair.

“Look at you, falling apart so easily for me,” you crooned into his ear, smiling at the way he shuddered.

“Don’t get too c-cocky there,” Hawks breathed out, stuttering when gave the tip of his cock a firm squeeze, “I haven’t even started with you yet.”

“Is that right? I look forward to it when you’re done leaking all over my lap.”

“F-Fuck, where is all this coming from, dove? Usually I’m the one running my mouth.” Hawks let out a breathy laugh as he tightened his grip in your hair, pulling you back to look you in the eye.

“I just want to make you feel good,” you whined out as you met his liquid honey gaze. “Is it working?”

A warm smile upturned his lips before he pressed his forehead against yours, “You know it is. You feel how much I’m squirming here.”

“I just wanted to make sure. Now, let me see you,” you hummed, pecking his lips before urging him to lean back. With your free hand you pushed up his t-shirt, nudging him to hold the fabric up with his teeth so you could watch the muscles of his stomach clench with every shock of pleasure. Your fingers explored the smooth expanse of his chest, teasing around his nipples before toying with the piercings there. Hawks groaned around the fabric in his mouth, his back arched to press further into your teasing touches.

You worked him through the throes of his pleasure as his skin flushed a lovely shade of pink. You decorated his chest and stomach with pretty little hickeys, drunk on the way every suck drew a moan from him. When you used your tongue to tease at the piercings in his nipples, Hawks completely broke. He hiccuped and swore loudly, though muffled by the fabric clenched tightly between his teeth, as his cock twitched and throbbed between your fingers. Thick strands of cum splattered against his chest and drooled down his twitching muscles.

“Aren’t you a pretty mess,” you moaned, drinking in the sight of him blissed out. You leaned in, lapping up the cum from his skin, making Hawks shiver and gasp at the warm, wet passes of your tongue. Hawks pushed you back firmly before you could finish to kiss you sloppily, chasing the taste of himself on your tongue. He nipped at your bottom lip before slipping off your lap, urging your thighs to part as he knelt between them.

“You better get comfortable, dove,” Hawks said with a wicked grin, his eyes sparkling with lustful intent. “We’re going to be here for a while. I want to hear you sing for me.”

His hands were already tugging your sweatpants down your legs impatiently, making you swallow thickly. Good thing you both had off of work tomorrow.

#takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #echo writes #hawks smut #bnha smut #mha smut #takami keigo smut

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captain-cerrillo · 3 years

Text

Operation Asteria

from x

“Hey loverboy,” Jackson Vance called mockingly from across the open space.

The biotics lit the darkened underground bunker around them, and Isaac turned off the parts of him that couldn’t focus when Eva was near. He wasn’t easily baited and slipped naturally into a familiar, lighthearted rhythm.

“You know, I can’t say I blame you, Cap. I’d abuse all of my power just to get to that sweet heat between her legs too.”

Max Townsend was one of Isaac’s best and oldest friends. He was also a seasoned N7 Destroyer. They’d been cooped up or deployed together for a cumulative total of at least ten years and had spent a fair amount of that time actively trying to kill each other. Which was helpful in a lot of ways generally, but Isaac was extra grateful for it now.

“Look at our girl.” Vance gestured to Eva who looked like she was quite literally fighting for her life and Isaac scrambled to push it all down. If anyone could survive a direct confrontation with two Asaris it could only be Eva. He hoped. “Fucking her way to the top.” Vance faked a sniffle. “I’m sort of proud.”

Isaac didn’t bother to explain the Alliance chain of command. Or how many other old soldiers were more impressive than him. The right arm of his armor frosted as the physical pneumonic of his hand gestures activated his suit’s cryo system to expel a flash freeze that sprayed out in a cone shape in front of him. It didn’t still the Destroyer, but it slowed the targeting mechanisms that his T5-V battlesuit’s VI used to lock onto threats long enough for the Paladin to roll into cover behind a half wall next to a row of terminals.

Isaac could hear the familiar grinding of the suit’s shoulder-mounted hawk missile launcher’s tiny gears as they struggled to shake off the freeze. Vance cursed and leveled his rifle. His armor glowed with a shaky red haze that told the Paladin he’d activated the suit’s devastator mode to boost his damage at the cost of movement. The choice confirmed Isaac’s suspicions that Vance was an idiot thug, not a seasoned soldier, because N7 Paladins were notoriously fast.

“Have you found that mole on her inner thigh? Right in that soft spot where her leg meets her hips. God she tastes so good there.” Vance intended to poke Isaac, but the Paladin didn’t spit back. Eva had a lot of fascinating beauty spots but the one on her chest, closest to her heart, was his favorite. He tried not to think of it.

Isaac popped out of cover, expecting the barrage of bullets to ripple against his suit’s shielding and adjusted his body weight accordingly. He stretched out another pneumonic, detonating the cryo explosion with a burst of fire from his other gauntlet. The plasma blast ate a decent chunk of Vance’s shielding but, again, he wasn’t stopped.

“We’ve got your boy. We’ve got your disc.” The Destroyer grunted as he expelled the heat sink from his rifle and reloaded with practiced speed. “And now we’re going to wipe you off the map before we leave.”

Vance fired a stream of armor-piercing rounds across the open space, chasing the Paladin as he rolled between cover to get closer before the Destroyer could move away. They collided in a show of smoke and fire as Isaac closed the distance only to tuck behind his omnishield when the suit’s shoulder rockets beeped their targeting confirmation. He waited for the ripple to subside and almost let up too early when a barrage of frag grenades shook the ground around him as he hunkered down.

A small piece of shrapnel from the edge of a metal storage crate at his back pierced his armor when one of the grenades rolled past him. He felt the familiar sting of a foreign object bite into his flesh as the scrap metal found a weak joint on the back of his armored knee as he crouched. He couldn’t help the painful yelp as his gloved fingers dug deep enough to pull it out. He threw the bloody piece on the ground, and it made a small jingling sound as it wobbled to a still stop.

“There we go. I knew you could bleed.” The venom in Vance’s voice was dripping. “Do you think Eva is bleeding right now?”

Isaac’s shield fizzled to nothing, and he leveled his pistol expecting the worst. The ringing sounds from the combo explosions and the smoke that filled the space around him were disorienting but he stayed steady on his feet. Isaac choked down the creeping fear at the thought of the Fury being caught in more than she could sustainably handle as every minute of the struggle stretched between them.

He rolled out of the way, just barely, before another rocket screamed by. It impacted another crate behind him that send shards flying. He ducked his back against a wall and popped his shield to spare another jab until the pieces clinked, falling onto the metal floor.

Isaac rolled out of cover, finding his feet lightly, straining his eyes and his suit’s telemetry as he searched for the Destroyer through the smoke. The spot behind his knee stung as the medigel sank in, knitting the raw wound beneath the tight fibers of his undersuit, but he wouldn’t let it affect his certain stride.

He knew he wouldn’t win the long game if Vance had enough ammo so he decided to close the distance. He tucked his pistol and his head, sprinting in a zig zag to delay the missile launcher’s targeting systems until he was close enough to swipe his shield with the full force of his rage of behind it.

The tech upgrades to his kit made a wall of flaming plasma between them and Vance screamed as the rifle fell from his hands to clatter on the floor. Isaac knew firsthand how the heat of the shield could make a man feel like he was going to boil to death in his own sweat. He knew firsthand the impossible weight of it as the tiny motors in his suit amplified his natural strength to unnatural levels.

Vance’s armored boots skidded across the floor and Isaac’s shield fizzled to nothing only for him to step forward and bash the Destroyer again, pinning him against the concrete wall under the weight of the suit and the shield. Isaac was grateful no one would see the way his teeth bared when he doubled down, intent to press the life from the idiot thug before he got another word out.

A cry that his bones recognized as Eva but his ears had never heard rang out in the distance. Isaac’s blood chilled.

“Sounds like they got her.” Vance sputtered, his hands grasping, gloved fingers clawing for purchase but meeting only chemical heat. “Better dead than yours.”

Isaac knew exactly how much pain he had to be in. He knew that if he didn’t move soon the fibers of the undersuit they both wore would begin to fuse with the younger man’s skin in all the hottest places. He knew what that smelled like. He wanted it. But he needed to back up Eva.

His shield fizzled to nothing, and Isaac stepped back to let the Destroyer crumple to his knees. The battlesuit sparked in several critical places and Isaac had a very good idea of the string of system notifications and warnings that the VI must have been spitting out over the Destroyer’s HUD.

“Old age has its benefits,” Isaac started. “Patience. Perspective.” He halfheartedly wondered if the man’s medigel delivery systems were still functional before he kicked him to the ground. “Experience.”

He grunted, a feral sound heavy with the weight of his fear and frustration as he slammed the shield down on the Destroyer’s armored shoulder. Vance howled, a blood curdling scream as the onmishield sliced through his broken battlesuit, biting a chunk out of the floor beneath him with the unyielding impact and cauterizing the wound at the same time.

“You’re an idiot and a thug. And you don’t deserve this stripe.” Isaac bent enough to make sure the Destroyer was watching as he lifted the armored limb that once belonged to Vance and threw it carelessly over his shoulder like he was packing for a trip.

Eva screamed again in the distance and Isaac had to go.

#isaac cerrillo #eva novakov #he's only not freaking out about luca because he knows ben is there okay asgkfash #good luck bad guys lol

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thosekidswhohuntmonsters · 4 years

Photo

Fuck it, Let the Whole World Know

Summary: this is pure tom hiddleston filth and I’m not ashamed of it

Word Count: 4938

Rating: v spicy, deff 18+

Author’s note: oh god I can’t believe I wrote this!! reading it back now I was nearly blushing! anyways, get ready for Chris Evans to be the best wingman there is

♡if you enjoy this fic you’re welcome to leave a reblog/like/comment! feedback is not only welcomed but encouraged!♡

You had been used to doing press junkets with Chris Evans, but not him and Tom Hiddleston. You’d been in various rom-coms with Chris over the years, but now you were also starring in Infinity War with him.

You were at the food table getting a drink of water as you felt someone pinch your hip, causing you to jump up and turn around. There of course stood Chris, left boob grab and all, “YES! Dude, I don’t know how you still fall for this!”.

Maybe you would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the fact that you were about to do a day of press junkets with the man that you’d developed a serious crush on; Tom Hiddleston. Chris could read you like a book, “Come on (y/n) today will be fineeee!”

You sighed, “What if the interviewers ask-”. Chris raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that you’ve all had to handle some tough questions. He laughed, “Do you not remember the hundreds of weird questions you and I have been asked together?”.

Chris got you to smile, “Oh god Chris don’t remind me….remember when someone asked me if I’d rather sleep with Steve Rogers or Johnny Storm?”. He laughed loudly again as he remembered that memory, a smirk forming upon his lips.

Rolling your eyes you teased, “I’d take Steve Rogers all day...I bet he’s extremely kinky behind closed-”. Chris was laughing much harder than he would’ve at your joke, causing you to turn around.

There of course stood Tom, “Do I even want to know love?”. Your heart started to pound as you tried not to blush. Chris threw you a lifeline as he said, “In all honesty man, no”. The three of you laughed together.

Chris moved to shake hands with Tom, bringing him into a hug. Once it was over Tom looked to you, “Shall we do a take two on our reunion?”. You nodded your head and he pulled you into a light embrace, his hand lingering on the small of your back.

You all heard the call for you to get onto set and take your positions. The set had you three sitting next to each other, and the interviewer across from you. A stage hand positioned you right between the men.

The interviewer shook all your hands, “Now here we have a rather interesting sandwich, (y/n) in between America’s golden boy, and Asgard’s bad boy”. The three of you laughed, all settling into the interview.

You teased, “It’s kinda like an angel and devil on my shoulder huh?”. Chris didn’t hesitate to move and pretend to whisper something into your ear, playing the part. The interviewer ate it up, “Now do you have anything to say Tom?”.

You felt goosebumps as Tom’s lips grazed your ear, softly he said, “I’ve missed you (y/n)”. You nodded your head, pretending that Tom had said something else.

The interviewer caught your smirk and dove right in, “Now let’s get into it, (y/n) which do you prefer; bad boy or golden boy?”. You licked your lips while thinking of a response. You patted Chris’s knee, “Sorry Chris, but I’m gonna have to go with bad boy...Who doesn’t love Loki?”.

Chris looked into the camera, “I know...have you seen the hair?”. Tom nodded his head while smirking. He shrugged, “You know it’s actually an extremely long process to get those raven locks”.

Playfully you said, “It has to be the voice for me...”. You hadn’t really expected yourself to say that, maybe you were caught up in the moment. Tom didn’t skip a beat and he turned towards you.

Holding your gaze he said, “Claim loyalty to me, and I will give you what you need”. You’d be lying if you said his words hadn’t made your mind drift to dirtier places. Before you could respond Chris chimed in, “Dude out of all the lines..that’s what came to mind”.

Smirking you said, “He could’ve asked me to neal Chris…”. Tom started to laugh, and while doing so rested his hand on your knee.

The interviewer pulled out some cards, “Are you guys down for a game of would you rather; marvel style?”. You all nodded your heads, showing different levels of excitement.

“This one is for you Chris; would you rather be trapped in an elevator with black widow or our very wonderful (y/n) here” you narrowed your eyes at Chris, pretending to be angry depending on his answer.

Boldly you said, “Now remember Chris...keep things pg”. Once again the interviewer ate it up, and Chris started to laugh loudly. Tom joined in, “Who was under the impression that things wouldn’t be pg”.

Chris teased, “Uh me! Okay I guess I’d have to choose black widow”. The interviewer grinned, “Now is that payback for (y/n) choosing Loki earlier?”. Chris smirked while saying “maybe”.

The next question was, “Okay Tom would you rather have Loki’s irresistible charm, or his beautiful raven hair?”. You looked to Tom, trying to calm down your brain.

It had been awhile since you’d seen him last, and this wasn’t too ideal of a reunion. For some weird reason your feelings were even more intense today, but you couldn’t exactly show that during interviews.

Chris chimed in with a devilish smirk, “Tom already has Loki’s irresistible charm..right (y/n)”. Your eyes widened as you looked to Chris, but you were only met with a wink. Faking a laugh you said, “He tries to hide it, but he’s a total lady killer”.

Once again Tom laughed softly while gripping your knee, “Come on love, don’t flatter me”. You found yourself getting lost in the moment again, from the way his touch gave you goosebumps to how beautiful his face looked while smiling.

The interviewer joked, “Looks like there might be a little Loki in you after all huh Tom?”. Tom looked into the camera while smirking, playing into the interviewer's comments.

The rest of the interview continued like that; playful questions, light flirting between you and Tom, and your mind melting every time he found a way to touch you in the most innocent way.

When it was over you three walked back to the food table, beginning your two hour or so break until the next interview. You smiled, “It feels good to be getting back into this guys”.

Tom stood next to you, his shoulder inches from yours, “I have missed you both...I hate how terribly busy I am nowadays”. You nodded your head in agreement while looking to Chris.

You caught his wink, “I know dude...so crazy...I can’t even enjoy this break because my manager needs to brief me on the questions for later today!”. You raised an eyebrow wondering what Chris was playing at.

Before you could figure it out he moved to hug Tom goodbye, and then you. He whispered into your ear, “You got this (y/n)”. With one last salute Chris was gone, leaving you and Tom alone.

Tom smiled, “Are you hungry darling because I’m starving...and not for this set food”. You’d realized that Chris had basically left you and Tom alone for the next two hours.

Nodding your head you suggested, “I think I saw a breakfast joint around the corner?”. You watched as his entire face lit up, realizing that you’d go along with his idea. Tom smirked, “Shall we?”.

Smiling back you mocked his tone, “We shall”. Tom looked at the ground while shaking his head, smiling at your teasing. You began to walk off set until Tom’s manager called to you both, making you stop in your tracks.

You thought you were screwed, until Tom whispered something into his manager’s ear after pointing to you. His manager nodded their head, “Just be back in time okay?”.

Tom walked back over to you, and you had to admit how proud he looked was extremely adorable. Playfully you asked, “More of that Loki charm?”. Tom shook his head while you both started to walk down the street.

Tom sheepishly said, “Love, you truly do flatter me”. You rolled your eyes as you turned the corner. You started walking backwards for a moment, “Tom Hiddleston, the most humble man there is”.

You turned back around so you couldn’t see the look on Tom’s face. He couldn’t explain it, but within the first five seconds he saw you he felt himself getting lost in you again. Tom had always had feelings for you, but with your conflicting schedules he pushed them aside.

There was just something about you, something that was so intoxicating to him. Tom was just scared that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, and he already felt it starting. Smiling he said, “Why that tone darling?”.

By now you were about to enter the shop, Tom leaning in to open the door for you. Walking inside you said, “Come on Tom, you can’t be as innocent as you seem”. Tom laughed loudly while his jaw nearly dropped.

You read the, “Seat yourself” sign so you clapped your hands together. Looking over your shoulder you said, “I’m a booth by the window kinda girl, how about yourself?”. Tom slid into the booth, sitting across from you.

Smiling his said, “I think I’ve always been a windows kinda man myself love”. You nodded your head in approval, and soon enough a waitress came over to give you both menus. Tom grinned, “I’ll have a green tea, thanks love”.

She looked to you, “And I’ll have an apple juice”. You heard Tom laugh, and you immediately turned to face him. The waitress smiled, “I’ll be back with your drinks in a second”. Tom sat across from you, the biggest grin on his face.

You tilted your head to the side, “Am I not allowed to order apple juice?”. He was still grinning, propping his head up with his hand. He held your gaze, “It’s a compliment darling..I love how innocent you can be at times”.

“Innocent at times?” you repeated while raising an eyebrow. Tom laughed once again, now focusing on the menu. You smirked, “Let’s play truth or dare”. He quickly put down the menu, focusing instead on you.

“Truth or dare?” he asked once again. You nodded your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “Truth or dare Tom...unless you’re not game…” Tom laughed, a look of determination now on his face.

He leaned forward, “Oh love, you have no idea”. You leaned forward as well, the moment quickly escalating. Your heads snapped to the left, “So what can I get you both?”.

Tom’s smirk was now replaced with a smile, “I’ll have the oatmeal with apples and cinnamon and a side of toast please”. The waitress nodded her head while writing down his order. Smiling you said, “And I’ll have a waffle, side of homefries”. She smiled, placing down your drinks and then turning to prepare your orders.

“So truth or dare?”. Tom pretended to think it over for a minute before saying, “Dare”. Raising your eyebrows you pretended to be surprised. Grinning you said, “I dare you to read your last text message out loud”.

Quickly you added, “And show me the screen so I know you’re not lying”. Tom let out a sigh, and reluctantly took out his phone. When he found his latest message he laughed, “I can’t-”.

Teasingly you said, “What could our sweet little Tom possibly be talking about thats so bad he can’t repeat it?”. Tom rolled his eyes, but found himself smiling. He shook his head but continued, “I wouldn’t have minded asking (y/n)-”.

He paused and you beamed with excitement, “Come on! Don’t be a tease”. Tom licked his lips before continuing. He spoke quickly, “To kneel before me”. You felt your stomach drop, but you tried to keep yourself under control.

Turning his phone you saw the text, and the rest of his conversation with Chris. You smiled to yourself realizing that Chris had been playing both sides.

You clicked your tongue, “Well would you look at that...Tom Hiddleston is much dirtier than he looks”. Looking at him you could see he was blushing lightly, and you were trying your hardest to remain calm and collected.

Shrugging he said, “Shall I remind you of what you were talking about with Chris earlier”. You nodded, and the waitress came with your food. After taking a sip of your drink you said, “But I was talking about his character..not him”.

Tom casually began to eat, “You were the one who brought up the idea of kneeling, so I’m quite curious as to what you’ve been thinking about...”. You choked on the homefry you’d been eating, and Tom sat there with a smirk.

He loved this little game you were playing with him, and it was bringing up feelings he’d been trying to suppress. The truth was that Tom was a complex man with many different sides, and right now you were challenging his most dangerous side.

Tom knew he now had the upper hand, “So truth or dare?”. You tried to calm your breathing by taking a couple bites of your food. In between bites you said, “Truth”. You couldn’t see but Tom was smirking.

“A little coy are we now love? Hmm, is it true that you really like men with a dark side”. His voice alone made butterflies dance in your stomach, and goosebumps appear on your skin. You could tell the mood had shifted, and something new inside of Tom was stirring.

“Good becomes too boring too fast...I like men who push the limits and make things interesting” you looked down as you spoke, afraid to see his reaction. Tom nodded his head planning his next move.

Finally looking up you asked, “Truth or dare?”. Tom held your gaze, and you saw something different in his eyes. He bit his bottom lip, “Dare”. For a moment you just sat there, a thousand thoughts flooding your mind but no words leaving your lips.

Somehow you managed to get out, “I dare you to tell me what you want Tom, no more games”. As he processed your words a smirk form upon his lips. It was only three words, but enough to make your head spin, “I want you”.

For a moment it had felt like everything you’d thought you’d known about Tom was wrong, but then you realized that there was always a little voice in your head telling you there was something different about him.

There had to be a reason he was drawn to such dark and complex characters right? Maybe there was a side to Tom that was darker and more forbidden than he’d let on, and as you looked into his lust filled eyes, you knew you were right.

He licked his lips, “Although I quite love this game we’re playing darling, I think it’s time we finally do what we’ve been dreaming about for so long”. You just looked at him, your lips parted, your eyes wide, shocked by his words.

His grin only seemed to grow as he realized how much power he had. Tom leaned forward, “There’s no need to be shy now love, I’ve wanted you for a long time….and maybe I’m wrong but I think you want the same”.

You nodded your head, “Tom...I-”. Before you could struggle to find the words any longer the waitress came back over. Tom winked at you before turning to look at her. With a sudden innocent expression he asked, “Do you have a bathroom here darling?”.

She nodded her head and pointed to where it was, and instantly Tom got up. You were extremely confused, especially because while walking away Tom looked so mischievous. Sitting down you thought about everything for a while.

Finally it hit you, and when you realized what he’d done you just laughed to yourself. The damn bastard wanted you to go follow him, finally take what you want. Taking a breath in and then out, you finally got up from the table.

You walked over to the portion of the restaurant where the bathrooms were. There stood Tom leaning against the door to the family bathroom, “Look who it is”. His arms were crossed over his chest, and a smug look on his face. You smiled, and Tom leaned back finally opening the door to the bathroom.

As he walked into the room you caught his smirk in the reflection of the mirror. Walking into the bathroom you closed the door behind you, locking it. To your surprise the bathroom was actually nice.

It had a huge countertop with the sink, and even a large armchair off to the side. As you looked to Tom you could see the different look in his eyes, and it made your core ache. Tom was eyeing you like a predator eyes its prey.

He loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his sleeves. Tom spoke casually as he did so, “I love how shy you are darling, as if this whole day you haven’t been teasing me”. Your back was pressed against the door as you listened to him.

Tom laughed lowly, “Even during the interview -it’s the voice that does it for me- love I could barely control myself...I wanted to ravish you right then and there”. You swallowed hard, biting your bottom lip.

Finally he looked back up to you, “And here you are standing right before me, but still not letting yourself take what you’ve been craving..I can see it in your eyes (y/n)...how badly you want this”.

Tom licked his lips, “Let yourself go love”. Before you could process what you were doing you were walking over to him. Tom crashed his lips against yours in a hunger filled kiss. It was like with each touch of your lips years of tension melted away.

All too soon he pulled back, “Now the fun can truly begin darling”. You stood there trying to catch your breath, unsure of his next move. Tom turned your body so your back was now facing him.

As he placed light kisses down your neck, he grabbed your wrists. Tom tugged at the bottom of your earlobe as he moved your wrists so they were now behind your back. Breathlessly you asked, “Tom what-”.

Making use of his tie, he used it to bind your hands together. You couldn’t help yourself, a moan of anticipation escaping your lips. He purred into your ear, “I knew you loved to be as filthy as I do”.

All you could do was nod your head, melting into his touch. Tom ran a hand up your back, making you lean forward as he pressed you into the countertop. His hands slid back down your sides his body also moving down.

Tom was on his knees, his hands only moving up to push up the dress you’d been wearing. He pulled your legs apart, exposing your black lace panties. His laugh was so low it was almost a growl, “My my pet, what do we have here?”.

Your face was resting against the countertop, the cool tile the only thing calming you down right now. His hands ran up your thighs, massaging your ass, “You look so good (y/n)”.

His name left your lips like a prayer, “Tom please-”. With a grin he spanked your ass, making you jump. Immediately he kissed the exact spot where his handprint would be.

He moved his lips to your slit, teasing you through your panties with soft kisses. You arched your back needing more, “Tom”. His mouth was hovering over your most sensitive area.

Finally he slid your panties to the side, your clit now fully exposed to him. Tom gripped your thighs pulling you closer to him, “What do you want darling?”.

“Want me to take that delicious clit of yours between my lips?” his words were making you wetter by the second. You nodded your head sounding all too desperate, “Yes Tom please”. Once again he laughed, becoming more intoxicated with you.

His voice was so low, “All you had to do was ask”. The smug bastard finally took your clit between his lips, sucking deeply. The most obscene sounds were leaving his mouth as you felt electricity with each touch of his tongue.

Tom’s face was buried between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. You were trying not to moan, but it was so hard because his mouth was working wonders. He’d move his tongue in all different directions and speeds as his face was buried between your folds.

“You taste so fucking good (y/n)” he said while groaning. You started to breath quicker, feeling yourself become closer. Tom could sense it too, so he pulled back. As he stood behind you, you could feel his hardness pressing against you.

He slid a finger between your folds where his mouth had previously been. As he teased you he spoke, “You’re even more incredible than I’d imagined..you have no idea what you do to me”.

Tom thrust his hips forward, “Can you feel how hard you’ve made me?”. You nodded your head while breathlessly saying yes. He was grinning once again, “With each second I spend with you I find myself becoming more intoxicated with you”.

Tom gripped your hips tightly while rolling his hips forward. Throwing his head back he groaned, “Oh fuck darling...I can only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around my cock”. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him.

“Then fuck me Tom...make me your little slut”. His head snapped forward, and his eyes widened. As he processed your words he’d lost any control over himself that he’d had. Tom’s breathing was heavy, “Fuck you’re perfect (y/n)”.

Tom nearly ripped off all his clothing, not wanting to spend another second where he wasn’t buried deep inside you. The entire time you were just biting your lip in anticipation, your core aching for his touch.

Finally you felt the head of his dick move slowly up and down your slit teasing you. He groaned, “Say it again (y/n)”. With one hand he tightly gripped your hip, while he held his cock in the other.

Your voice was low, “make me your little slut”. Tom was grinning like a madman, your words driving him wild. His head teased your entrance, “Want me to claim your pretty pink pussy”.

You nodded your head, “Yes Tom”. He rolled his hips forward, watching you arch your back in anticipation. As he finally entered you Tom threw his head back, groaning loudly. His thrusts were slow at first, letting you adjust to his size.

“Tell me how it feels love”. Your smile was wide as you felt the pleasure starting to build up. You loved having him be so in control, “So fucking good”. Tom nodded his head, picking up the pace.

He slid one hand up your back, grabbing a fistful of your hair. With each thrust he repeated, “So-fucking-good”. You started to press back onto him, wanting him to be even deeper inside of you.

Tom gripped your hips tighter, as he rolled his own hips forward. His hand tangled in your hand felt so good, “Oh Tom”. As he looked down at you and saw how lost in the moment you were becoming, he found himself becoming lost too.

He just threw his head back, fucking you harder. He was hitting your g-spot, making you nearly scream out his name. You closed your eyes, letting the feelings of pleasure take over. As he held onto your hips he went even deeper inside of you.

“You look so fucking beautiful love” he said moving even faster. This was all so new to you, but it felt so right. Your hands were bound, and Tom had total control over you, but you loved it.

You trusted him, and that made everything feel even better. As you moaned his name loudly you realized he had gotten you to explore a side of yourself you had always kept closed off.

It felt so good to just be filthy with him, knowing full well that he loved every second of it. You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt him spank you again, making you jump. You just bit your lip, a smile soon forming on your face.

Tom massaged you now red ass cheek, “Fucking incredible”. Your smile only grew, his words making you even wetter. You could see his reflection in the mirror, and he looked so happy.

You watched as his muscular arms held you in place, his hips rolling forward. He was half smirking while breathing rapidly, he chest moving up and down. You could tell that just like you, he was letting himself become overcome with pleasure.

You moved your head to rest against the cold tile counter, closing your eyes as you smirked to yourself. Your voice was soft, “I’m so close”. He nodded his head while moving his hips even faster.

“I want you to cum with me (y/n)” he said inbetween pants. You nodded your head, knowing your orgasm was extremely close. His voice was demanding, “Cum right now (y/n)...fucking cum”.

His words pushed you over the edge, and you let yourself go. Your moans filled the room as you felt your orgasm shake throughout your entire body. Tom was right there with you, moaning just as loudly.

He held onto your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming slopier as he felt himself cumming. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over your entire body, and it was the most intense it had ever felt for you.

Together you rode out your orgasms, both completely lost in eachother. Tom’s groans were so low they were almost growls. He let himself go wild, the same intense feeling of pleasure shaking throughout his entire body.

For a moment the only noise in the room was the both of you trying to catch your breath. Slowly he pulled out of you, “Fucking hell...that was amazing….”. You stood up straight, seeing his smirk through the reflection in the mirror.

Finally he untied your hands, and you turned to face him. He brought your wrists to his mouth, kissing them lightly. He was smiling, “I hope that wasn’t too much for you (y/n)...do your wrists hurt?’.

Just like that he could switch from relentlessly fucking you, to looking at you like a concerned puppy hoping you weren’t hurt. You giggled, “I liked it….a lot”. Tom nodded his head while a smile formed upon his lips.

He looked so proud, “You liked it huh darling?”. You rolled your eyes but found yourself laughing. Looking to him you joked, “You were enjoying yourself to Tom”. He bit his lip, sheepishly running a hand through his hair.

“I guess the cats out of the bag with this one…”. You brought your hands up to wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. Before kissing him you teased, “A little coy are we now Tom?”.

He laughed before kissing you, this time the kiss was soft. His hands slowly exploring your body, taking his time to remember each curve. When the kiss was over he rested his head against yours, “You know I wouldn’t mind doing-”.

Smirking you said, “I’d meant what I’d said Tom...I’m all yours now”. You watched as his entire face lit up, and he held your body closer to his. Tom was smiling, “I really like you (y/n)...this isn’t going to just be some fling”.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek, “You’ve always meant so much to me (y/n)..and now that I finally have you I don’t want to let you go”. You could see the amount of emotion he’d put into every word, and you couldn’t help but kiss him again.

After the kiss was over you moved to the door, “We better get back to set or else people might think-”. Tom quickly put back on his clothes, following you to the bathroom door. He held your hand, “Fuck it (y/n) let the whole world know”.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. You walked out of the bathroom, paid the waitress, and walked back to set together. Chris was the first to notice, and he clapped his hands together.

With a smirk he teased, “Dude FINALLY it’s been like two straight years of eyesex between you both”. You and Tom looked to each other before erupting with laughter. Chris noticed the blush on your cheeks making him raise an eyebrow.

He looked you both up and down, taking in how disheveled you looked. He pointed at you with wide eyes, “Oh my god, you both totally just fucked! Did-”. You rushed over to Chris, covering his mouth.

Chris wiggled his eyebrows while smirking, “Don’t worry your secret’s safe with me….until I tell Mackie and he totally loses it and tells everyone!”. You rolled your eyes, but once again Tom held your hand. After seeing the smile on his face you looked to Chris, “Fuck it...Let the whole world know”.

Toms eyes lit up once again, and he rested his head on your shoulder briefly. After staying like that for a second you heard the call for you to get back on set. You smirked before getting ready to do the next interview with Chris, and you now boyfriend Tom.

♡ thank you for taking the time to read this, you’re a babe♡

Forever tags: aka some amazing people: @moonlessnight14 @sexyvixen7 @angieptt @painkiller80 @becca-dolan @team-heichou @thatpeachybandgirl @allthesesonsobitches @buckybarneshairpullingkink @couldabeenamermaid @taeeemin @littleredstarfish @nali67 @only4wakingup @mcenziehughes

*if there is a line through your name that means that for some reason it won’t allow me to tag you*

*forever tags are always open*

#tom hiddleston #tom Hiddleston filth #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom Hiddleston imagine #tom Hiddleston fic #Chris evans

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twitchesandstitches · 3 years

Text

(commission of Rose going through some feederism-induced transformation on behalf of John.)

-------

The Land of Wind and Shade was actually very pretty, Rose thought as she and John walked along a path lit by the luminous fungi and trees. She’d never had much opportunity to really appreciate the visual aesthetics of their worlds when they had played the Game (as they thought of it now), back before they had become gods.

It felt like a long time ago, Rose reflected as she reached into a pocket and palmed a few tiny tablets that resembled a feminine figure in profile, with a massive belly. She considered it a divide in her lifetime.

Oh, yes. It was hard, sometimes, to really recall what it was like before they had given life to a new world and all of them (her friends, Roxy and her friends, the trolls, and all who had perished in the playing of the Game) ascended to true godhood, entering the Medium as their own divine realm and free to engage with the mortal world they made, if they wished.

It had been… who knew how long? Centuries? Perhaps millennia. Rose knew it had been a while since the Mayor and his carapacian cohorts had turned up again, presumably after the end of their mortal bodies, so perhaps it had been even longer. Eventually it might be worth it to check on the mortal world and see how it was doing without their direct involvement, but for the present, it was fine enough to simply experiment.

Reality was somewhat fluid for the new gods in their divine realm. They had different ways of expressing it, and ways to experiment with it. For some, Rose included (and again, she thought of the transformatives in her hand), that meant tweaking their bodies.

She and John walked onwards, on the surface of his world, for the noble purpose of stuffing her with as much food as possible, and Rose was rather preceded by her own stomach, which bore a lot of testament success in this field. And perhaps a lot of worship towards her in the mortal world; she wasn’t sure if that had an effect or not.

Her belly hung out in front of her. It felt good, like that, and Rose contemplated taking another one of the transformatives she’d made specifically for this task.

Now she was waddling awkwardly, still not used to a body reshaped by those specific transformatives, and for a moment she thought that she resented this being the only word choice available to her.

She didn’t hate that she was waddling, exactly. She hated that it was an awkward word; she was pedantic, and insisted on picking the most applicable terms, and unfortunately she only had something so… inelegant, to work with.

She was waddling, even so. John was even slowing down his usual frenetic pace so she wouldn’t have to hurry, which made her smile even as being outwardly happy completely went against the persona she wore.

John was… tricky, that way.

Rose, like Dave and Terezi, had a whole headful of personas she put on around other people. She tailored herself to match their expectations, or to confound them, or because it was just really funny to do. But John saw through them. Somehow he had a knack for knowing exactly when Rose was putting up a front or not.

It was exasperating, sometimes. It was fascinating, too. It felt good to have a match that just rolled right through clever wordplay and saw what she actually meant, even if her actual wordplay falling on deaf ears was disappointing.

Now Rose fell into an easy stride, John still walking at her side, and striding was easy ernough for Rose with the physical transformation she had begun to explore lately. For instance, she noticed in a distant way, her hips were getting… wider. Much, much wider, and it helped that John enjoyed feeding her as much as she liked, and it was interacting with her transformations in some very unexpected ways; she suspected that his aspect was flooding into them, influencing the tasty treats with his very particular essence of… enthusiasm, and development.

He’d kept them moving onwards, and she wondered what that kind of attribute had towards food. Certainly it encouraged the body to pile on the pounds.

Her pelvis, she was sure, had also changed shape just as her hips had grown, her hip joints modified to swivel and roll with greater ease, and with the weight piling onto her body, it made her hips nearly three feet across. And she felt the delightful weight of every step, her hips rolling and rocking as a natural counterbalance.

Her butt was a heavy weight, beneath her robes. It pushed out and flexed in as her thighs moved, and there was a smack every time her thighs came together; they were wider than John’s entire body, wider than some of the trolls even, and the clapping of her thighs was a steady rhythm behind them.

She was starting to enjoy it, actually.

Her stomach, however, was the primary focus of her growth. The transformative pills she had made had involved little capsules and pictures of progressively bigger stomachs, and alchemized in such a way so that the pills created by it would have the attributes of bellies getting bigger, with all the resonance that implied; of good food, excellent digestion, and hedonistic satisfaction.

Or so she hoped. She no longer had SBURB to experiment with, but there was a whole reality for her to mess about with and see what happened, or maybe learn its rules.

The results of her experiments so far were plain to see: Rose’s gut was hugely distended, a round marvel projecting outwards, the itch to fill it up growing stronger even with a few recent meals gurgling away in there.

Her belly hung out from the rest of her body like a medallion, gently swaying to and fro as she moved, distending the rest of her clothes to a degree exceeding her breasts. That was no small feat; her bustline extended out several feet, lower slopes hanging above her navel and her cleavage was, all the same, pushed apart by the steadily expanding mound of a belly that was getting large enough, and often stuffed enough, to make her look moderately pregnant. Her god-tier robes had been subtly altered and now her stomach slung out of a spade-shaped opening at her front, a soft globe that was very visibly churning her most recent meals.

Her gut had changed; the way it worked was still changing. Rose was intellectually aware of that, just as she also knew that something in her power was affecting her digestive tract. To truly know something was to consume it, to totally make it part of you and grasp it, with your very being, and it seemed that her body had seized the idea.

It was quite another thing, feeling the muscles of her digestive tract seize and flex like a very mobile garbage disposal unit, or enormously powerful acids sink deep into everything she ate to dissolve it into something very much like the grist they used in crafting the things of the heavens. She could feel her meals from only a few hours ago dissolving like that, and she felt…

The essence of them, she supposed, merging with her. It felt… good. The slither of essence left a lovely shiver through her entire body.

Well, she supposed, if it felt this good already, why not give it a nudge? She took the rest of her sample of transformatives and slipped them into her mouth. She moistened them up with her tongue, and then swallowed them.

They slid down without issue. She fancied she heard a faint splash as they made it into her stomach. There was no immediate result, but she didn’t expect one. You needed food to use as fuel for a big stomach; she’d made it like that on purpose. Perhaps she didn’t have to, but there was such a thing as doing it right. ‘What,’ Rose had rhetorically written down in the cosmic journals that had largely replaced the game guides she used to expound upon. ‘Is the point of making your stomach larger if you don’t even do it by getting crammed with digestibles, I do mean, REALLY.’

The pills did have a minor effect; they bubbled and forthed ferociously in her gut, interacting interestingly with the more complex digestive processes her stomach had developed on its own since she started taking them. Her belly swelled slightly with internal pressure, and it was all she could do to stifle a small burp with her free hand.

She and John kept going; he glanced at her briefly, and left her to it. Like most of the others, he took a blaise attitude towards the current trend of mixing up their bodies, even if he currently didn’t seem inclined to do it himself.

Soon the illuminated forests and walkways gave way to an entrance arch with a suitably gnarled and strange-looking sigil upon it to indicate that this had something to do with Rose.

Beyond it, lay a small complex squatting on the ground like a lost turtle. It glowed with a faint, pleasant pattern of blue light: John had somehow taken a number of the luminous trees growing on his land and broken them down, reshaping them into a living house. As they entered, Rose saw that the general layout had not changed much since last she had visited some time ago. Then it had been, and it still was, a many-chambered and sprawling estate extending into the ground and also to the sky, producing new rooms as it expanded.

It wasn’t very well organized and it would probably be hard to find where everything was situated soon enough, but Rose honestly did not mind. It was a dinner place; those chambers were filled with very extensive and experimental cooking utilities, spawned from alchemiters from photos of ovens and handwritten lists of useful attributes for ovens, shaped the outline of massive kitchens that extended for miles, down into the depths of John’s world. They always were baking something, John’s own experiments mainly laying in the fairly mundane art of baking. Granted, where his powers were concerned, even something as straightforward as baking could get very complex.

Rose wasn’t sure if the food he made might interact strangely with her own concoctions. She thought it best to see for herself!

She looked up as they traveled into the complex, where John surely had lots of food waiting to sate Rose’s appetite; her belly rumbled loudly at the thought, so loud that John visibly jumped a bit. Rose acknowledged this with a faint shrug, but she was more interested in the smells of cooking up ahead.

They came into the complex, and John was glancing at her as they eventually arrived at a splendidly decorated chamber. He glanced up at her, specifically; Rose was fairly tall among their friends, at least the human ones, and John was probably the shortest of them all; his face generally hovered (and wasn’t THAT just the best possible word) somewhere around elbow level. The word that came to mind describing him, Rose mused, was ‘plush’; yes, she thought. Just like a plushy. He was thickly build and broad all around, but he was quite short and didn’t look terribly muscular. The effect was that of someone apparently designed for huggability.

Absently, she did just that, looping an arm around a compact but very strong shoulder and leaned slightly into him. The sudden motion tilted one of her massive hips against him, the swell of a huge butt check pressing on his waist.

He put an arm around her waist, in unconscious and perfect synchrony with her. She felt his pulse quicken, and at the periphery of awareness that her powers influenced, she felt the vague notion of thoughts blur across his mind. Not mind-reading, as such; she saw the potential that those thoughts embodied, or at least knew of them. They revealed themselves to her, like a sun rising overhead.

Such was the nature of Light.

Her belly rumbled again and Rose’s face shifted. It was genuinely pleasuable

John misinterpreted it. He looked up at her, around the curve of one huge breast, his expression adorably helpful. “Is your belly thing going okay?”

Rose smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sniffed the air, and her belly rumbled demandingly as the mass of her meal was transmuted into physical flesh, and her belly protruded a few inches outward.

The sudden growth made her steps falter.

John took a hard step to the side, and Rose found their trail meandering away. “Hey!” She started to say, and John just kept going, and despite being so much taller than him, despite being a lot heavier than him, she was helpless to control their momentum.

John gently brought her to a chair. “Do you want me to rub your belly?” He asked as he helped her down, the chair transforming to take in her exceptionally broad backside.

Rose’s immediate response was to simply deny any discomfort. This was thwarted by the greater urge, more powerful in recent days, to enjoy being pampered. Her mouth was still forming around the words as she said, “Actually, that sounds quite nice.”

She let herself flatten back, her broad thighs spreading wider as if lounging in some sort of overlord’s throne. Her belly hung out. For a moment she wondered if her sense of her own body was feeling askew or not, as her belly felt even bigger than it had a few moments ago. Surely that was just an illusion, spawned from her still adjusting to a new tweak to her body?

The outer curve of her stomach kept going, sliding against the cool air. She thought she felt it brushing against the tops of her legs, short of her knees, all while the sensation of growth made the whole of her belly a pleasant warmth.

She felt her belly growing, more and more. Doubtfully, she supposed she might have oversizing or undersizing its actual dimensions, and supposed it didn’t much matter. She really liked the idea of her belly being particularly big, and supposed a bit of guesswork on her part would throw anything off much.

Further speculation was halted as John pressed his hands against her stomach. It might have been the power of Breath within his body, or the intimacy of such an action, but his hands felt so warm and soft, moving against her bare skin with a wild thrill that felt so good, she had to resist the urge to force his hands still, or to squeeze against her body just so she could relish the sensation.

For a moment her eyes, and much of her body, glowed like a solar furnace, light pulsing out of her body, and then she mastered it, so that John only saw her glow like a whole body blush. “You get embarrassed easy!” he said, teasingly.

“Oh, you can think that if you want,” Rose said lightly, and gasped as he slowly moved his hands across the outer surface of her stomach, fingers kneading so deeply that it stirred against the transforming walls of her gut.

He didn’t say anything, but she could feel him smiling. Teasing smugness radiated off him, and she gave him points for deserving it there, at least.

Rose still sat up then, mastering the urge to simply lay back and let him rub her stomach, but oh, it was a powerful urge. Briefly, she imagined herself as an immensely bloated figure, without visible limbs, with nothing but an enormous belly that needed to be filled, and a great mouth ringed in huge lips for more food to be slipped down, and John a little fairy filling her up.

It ought to have been frightening. But at the thought of laying back, of food constantly sliding down her throat and making her belly constantly bigger and bigger and BIGGER, all while John orbited about to tend to her every need and whim…

Oh, yes. It was an attractive thought, at the root.

Slowly, without realizing it, she lay back, until she was lounging properly. If she were honest with herself (and honesty was not often a trait associated with those who awoke within Derse), she really didn’t care that much about keeping up appearances. At this point, it was just another habit she was gradually starting to shed.

John’s fingers slid up and around her belly, his strong fingers making intricate patterns on her just above her navel, his Breath power pulsing out into her stomach and accelerating the digestive process. Rose breathed in, and when she exhaled, the noise she made was a languorous and very satisfied sound, flush with the reality patterns of her meals fully melting into her as John’s powers sped up the whole process, mixing together in a very pleasant way.

But of course, adept fingers alone do not make for a completely ideal belly rub. His palms pressed in, deeply, his wrists flexing his hands to sink deeper into the meat of her gut, pressing against the inner walls in just the right way to really stimulate them, and Rose absently patted her own stomach, feeling a warm and fuzzy feeling.

It was hard to keep her hands off her stomach. It felt nicer to have someone else’s hands… admiring her handiwork.

John’s hands made their way down, in steady and experienced movements. Rose’s belly got bigger every time he did this, but he knew her belly all the same. It got bigger, yeah, but he knew it. The places to slide his palms to please her, the areas near her sides where she was almost ticklish, the spots near there that were just perfect for stimulating her digestion and relieved a belly ache, or a recalcitrant bit of quintessence that just would not dissolve properly.

His hounds came to those places, and he was so intent that he didn’t really notice her stomach slowly growing outwards. His hands sank deep into the ticklish spots, just enough to almost bother her, and deftly moving away to safer grounds.

Her stomach swelled a few steps outwards, closer to John, almost pressing directly against him. Absently, too focused to realize it, he stepped aside and rotated his hands against a sweet spot or two, and Rose rewarded him with a happy little noise that put a huge smile on his face.

Then, he tended to the source of the rumbling; with Rose’s pleasure still occupying important spots in his mind, he grew more attuned to her needs and the intricacies of her body, and was in a position to realize that her wobbling belly was growing faster than he was used to at this point.

He placed his hands down in a spot where he would normally rub deep and make little circles in, and he laid them down well enough. Before he could actually do anything more with that, though, her expanding flesh carried his hands apart as her belly widened.

Now John stepped back, completely on instinct, reflexes wired for just this sort of thing, and Rose’s belly still kept coming, sliding right into him and pushing him back even further.

It flowed over her legs. Her breasts, though still quite big, looked improbably small compared to the teeming flesh rising in front of him with a keen sense of demanding need. It rose up, so high and curved that it seemed to be trying to inflate itself.

John stepped back again as her belly kept steadily expanding outwards.

For Rose, the sense of pleasure faded. She felt a curious swelling, though, throughout her entire stomach, and a sense of personal space extending outwards. For some reason, John’s hands felt smaller, before he moved away.

“Um, Rose?” John’s voice called out.

Rose closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling without pondering on it too much.

“Your belly just got super big.”

The sensation continued, so pleasantly that it was a struggle for Rose to open her eyes. She glanced down, unaware of her back gradually sliding backwards against her seat until she was truly laying back, and felt, rather than saw, her stomach growing.

It was not an abrupt thing, as was often the case with these things; that was a later thought, of course. In the moment, her sharp mind faltered and stared out as her stomach slowly expanded outwards, its outer curves rising upwards as well. Her belly glowed, radiating the power of Light and shining like a star in its own right, the same faint orange as the robes hanging off her pin-up body.

Her stomach kept sliding outwards. It’s growing girth moved over her thighs and dipped out past her chair, warm air sliding across her new flesh. It wobbled faintly as she breathed in hard, trying to find words to express alarm and curiosity at this, but… it felt good. It felt really, really good. Rose squirmed in unexpected pleasure, the thrill of digestion gradually fading in favor of the new sensation of her stomach growing so rapidly that, yes, it was rising upwards, right into her field of view, and was starting to interfere with what she could actually see.

It occurred to her that John’s hands had moved back to her belly, even as it was reaching to the floor. Her stomach was quickly starting to get bigger than her, and John was standing up and slowly scooting back, but his hands were still firmly sunk into her stomach. Rose felt a surge of pleasure from the slight adjustments in him moving against her, and made a decision.

“Well?” She said archly, and stifled another swelling belch rising up from deep in her. “I didn’t ask you to stop.”

“Is this supposed to be happening?” John asked. He didn’t sound alarmed, now, that Rose wasn’t either; possibly he felt that as far as he knew, stuff like this happened all the time and he hadn’t seen it yet.

“I don’t know about ‘supposed’,” Rose said, deciding to try to play it off. “We’ve never bothered with that sort of thing. But I would like it if you kept doing what you were doing.” She leaned to the side, just enough that John could see her face where her huge breasts and the person-sized, massive gut sprawling across the floor wouldn’t obstruct it. She smiled at him, softly, eyes half-lidded and thick lips quirked at both corners. “So, would you get back to it?”

John swallowed audibly. “Well, if you say so!” His palms sank in deeply again, and Rose groaned in pleasure as they found new regions to roam across her belly, sliding downwards, nearly to the floor where they rested. The traveling motion of his hands stirred other motions across her stomach, the copious fat rippling as he moved, and it did so with so much force that it traveled up and down her new expanded gut.

Just like a ripple. The push of his hands, the lovely ways he rubbed against her gut, was amplified by the rippling, all over her belly, and she made more low noises in unthinking response, her stomach glowing faintly in response. Oh, but that felt perfect.

John kept rubbing; either her stomach was structured in a way to apply the force evenly, his Breath powers were making his rubbing continue onwards past the point he was actually touching, or perhaps a blend of the two. But as he scooted to one side where there was still a fair bit of rumbling for him to knead at, her stomach kept sliding outwards. It kept growing upwards, with ever more capacity to slide in more of his delicious food.

Rose leaned back, barely aware of losing hold of the ideas of relentless self-control that had kept her in an uncomfortable position on the chair until her belly had gotten bigger. This felt better, as far as she was concerned. She felt her stomach sliding outwards, so that it was rapidly getting close to somewhere around her own size in overall length and width, and it felt so nice that she honestly was not concerned. It did, however, feel rather empty.

Her eyes slowly opened as pangs of hunger started to grow, outweighing even the pleasures of John tending to her belly. “You had some food cooking, yes?” She said, dreamily.

John paused, his hands sunk into her belly nearly to the elbow. “Um, yeah?”

“Go get me some, would you? As much as you can carry.”

John floated up, made a little mock bow, and flitted away, a zephyr in human form.

He came back shortly afterwards. Plates of food hovered around him; not carried in each hand, but levitating about him, and without the restrictions of just two arms to carry it, he was able to bring several dozen in, loaded with all the tastiest treats he’d experimented with at the time.

“I wasn’t sure what you, specifically, might have wanted,” John said. “So I got a little bit of everything!”

Rose’s belly was no longer growing. She barely noticed. The air was thick with sweet smells and sugary tastes, warm smells laden with the distinctive after-tastes of frosting and chocolates, and undertones of milkshakes, fruits coated with impossible layers sculpted into genuine statues via the medium of chocolate and caramel, edible works of art…

“Oh, that smells interesting,” She said aloud, intrigued by what he’d worked up this time. “I must see for myself. Well, not see, but taste is a much more forensic sort of examination than just giving it a smack with your eyes.”

“That’s a horrible mental image. I like it!” John came over, with his many sweets, and sat in mid-air next to Rose, the scent maddening and she knew that he was perfectly aware of it, and just teasing her by sitting there and not giving him a single thing. What a brilliant move, on his part!

(It was entirely possible that John had no idea that Rose expected everyone else to make their every social move as brilliantly calculated as her own, and was not deliberately teasing her. It was also possibly that he knew damn well that she would think he was, and did so accordingly. It was hard to tell, with him!)

Gurgles and rumbles from deep within the expanded regions of her gut, the considerably reworked complexities of her digestive tract, and a more prosaic desire for tasty treats all got the better of Rose. She held herself back as long as possible, playing the part of a refined opponent, and finally she could take no more, and wildly reached out for the nearest piece of cake. John floated just out of reach. Normally, she would have been fine to keep it going for a while, enjoying the game of competition, clashing wits and personalities like a chess game (though not actual chess; having known carapacians, chess was now an uncomfortable exercise), but the thought of getting stuff through her throat and down her belly was too tempting.

“Very well, I give in!” She blurted out, and that was quite the surrender, coming from her.

John was still floating away. There was a terrible look of mischief about him. “What’s the magic word~?” He teased, floating almost close enough for her to pull him towards her.

“Please, and do please hurry with the treats already!” She almost begged.

“Aww. Okay…!” John floated in now, gently taking a seat in the air right next to her, just high enough that his hands could transfer things from plates to her mouth with ease. He admitted he was a little intimidated, and he tried not to look directly at the teeming massives of her breasts, or the gigantic sphere of her belly. Some part of him kept thinking ‘did I do that?’ and he was trying not to think about how nice it would be to lay down on her belly, listening to her digest.

He noticed Rose looking directly at him. Her expression shifted a little; the look of raw need and frustration had just a hint of wickedness in there. Her lips had changed, he realized; they’d grown immensely thick, puffing out into the kind of thick forms you normally associated with balloons. She raised an eyebrow, in that special Rose way of communicating a lot just with a little quirk.

“No mind reading or you won’t get any candy apples!” He said, with an adorable scowl.

Rose chuckled. “One, I don’t read minds, and two, I really don’t have to. You’re easy to figure out.”

“Hmph.” He picked up the plate, which did in fact have candy apples, and he selected one at complete random, holding it by the uncoated stem he used for handles. Gently he maneuvered it to Rose’s face, just above purple-painted lips three inches thick.

He expected her to take a bite; he did not expect her to gently put her lips against it and suck in. Whatever had changed her stomach had also altered the pressure that went into her lips, not to mention the flexibility of her jaw. Her lips flowed around the apple, saliva coating it as they slid completely around it in one smooth movement, her jaws stretching to fit the whole thing into her mouth at once, and then she slurped it into her mouth, plucking it right out of John’s hands.

“Eep!” John squeaked. Rose silently crunched the apple in her mouth, cheeks bulging but showing no sign of discomfort. She kept her eyes locked on him the whole time, her expression worryingly intent. A few hints of saliva oozed against her lips in the heat of her confectionary pleasure, and were slurped back in. Her eyes fluttered as she took in the delicious flavors of the candied apple, the way caramel and fruit blended together in ways amplified by John’s power to make a true taste sensation that a mortal simply couldn’t hope to imitate.

“Mm,” she murmured, after gulping the whole thing down at once, her belly wobbling slightly as it took it all in. “More.”

John nervously gave her another apple. Rose tilted her mouth up and sucked it in more slowly, but also sucked in his fingers too; her lips engulfed them, and pinned them there. John found that Rose’s mouth was very warm, and incredibly moist; as the apple traveled down her throat to never be seen again, the entirety of her lips pressed warmly against his fingers and then the rest of his hand as she drew it into her mouth, holding it there for a moment, and then let it go with a sound suspiciously like a kiss.

“Mm, you still have sugar on your fingers,” Rose said, eyes half-lidded. John was not quite blushing, but he was having a hard time meeting her eyes. She smiled a bit broader at that; it was nice to get one over on him.

“Well, at least you like it, right?” He said, giving her another apple. She ate it without complaint, and the next one he did, and still another went between her teeth, and soon she had polished off the entire plate. The apples were gurgling away in her belly, and she still needed more.

“Go on,” she said warmly. “Fill my stomach up, why don’t you? I’ve more than enough capacity for everything you have?”

“Challenge accepted!” John brought down more plates, picking up a slice of pie and placing it into Rose’s open mouth, and watching with fascination as she slowly chewed it, each flex of her jaw so slow that she plainly was savoring each bite.

She ate slowly, like someone taking a very long time to read a book; all in order to properly appreciate each and every detail, digesting full awareness of it to the last detail. It was the most intense way he’d ever seen someone eat his food; as if with the food in her mouth, there was nothing in all the world but his food. Her eyes closed when she swallowed, throat swelling up in huge gulps, and she radiated such satisfied pleasure that he briefly felt a surge of grand accomplishment.

And then, silently, with her expression alone, she asked for more.

The plates were emptied, one at a time; despite their number, Rose’s appetite grew so ferocious that she devoured everything on them without any sign of growing full despite the massive portions. It was gluttonous, like Terezi or Nepeta during the occasional communal dinner they had (usually corresponding to feast days in their honor, on the mortal world), but it was not ferocious; Rose did not wolf down her food or gorge on it, or try to force entire plates down all at once, as if her belly being emptied was an offense to her and all she had worked for.

No; Rose worked to occupy her belly. One slice of pie at a time, or a fraction of cake, as if taking in residents to a newly opened luxury home complex that required as many people as possible without being too much in a rush. She ate slowly and calmly, savoring every moment of it, and when she swallowed, it was loud. John had heard bells that were quieter, and like a bell, it signaled something. In this case, that she was very pleased with his offering.

He could have sworn he heard a faint, muffled echo after she swallowed. As if he heard the mouthful splashing into place in her belly.

Gulp after gulp, time went by, and both of them were scarcely aware of time passing as it did. Rose was lost in the pleasures of sweetness, tasing every metaphysical connection that went into the sweets, and each mouthful lost her in a world of deceptively calm-looking joy. John found his own satisfaction in feeding her; she loved what he was feeding her, so much, and he felt… proud of it.

And he was noticing that as they worked through the plates, her belly was getting even bigger. It gurgled loudly, of a different character than before. Then, it had wanted more to fill itself with, but now, it seemed to him that these were happy noises; the sounds of a satisfied gut, and that was something that made him feel even more proud of his handiwork.

His nature as a god of Breath felt a sense of imminence coming from her belly, though; something was going on that neither of them were quite aware of, and John felt it coming. He figured that Rose had it handled, though. She always knew what to do.

Her belly swelled larger, and emptied plates (devoid even of crumbs) lay in a neat tower near them both. The tower rose higher and higher, but even once they were all totally cleaned off, they weren’t as high up as Rose’s stomach. It had grown even bigger, sprawling out further as the feeding had progressed; each mouthful adding to its girth. It wasn’t even particularly smooth anymore, flexing and squashing in random directly as tremendously powerful muscle action crunched its contents into a fine grist to be dissolved ever more efficiently, and the power of Light flooded from her body, so that radiant pulses fluxed through.

“Mm-mmm,” Rose said softly as her breasts, now growing large enough to outsize her own torso, towering upwards. They were still small compared to her belly. Even with all the frenetic movement, it was still growing, though more slowly now. The pace of it was a pleasure all its own, a sweet friction from inside her own body and reshaping it to more efficiently be an absolutely ideal glutton.

Food dissolved alarmingly fast, mixing in with fluids and enzymes entirely unique to Rose’s divine body. It dissolved so quickly that it was building up quite a lot of gas, making her belly swell up once more. The skin of it grew firm, the pressure pushing against the inside of her stomach so much that the tightly packed shapes of her food was obscured, her gut turning almost completely round. It was hard to say how much internal gas that was; it was certainly enough to power a small, person-sized hot air balloon at the least, and in a distant way, that was precisely how Rose felt.

Rose’s eyes widened. Propriety that she unthinkingly complied with demanded that she stifle it, right now, before she did something embarrassing, while at the same time a part of her that really did enjoy not caring so much about image demanded to know ‘for what purpose?’. She tried to find a compromise, placing her hand over her mouth to muffle what she was certain would be a truly memorable belch.

Up it went, ascending like the jetpacks John had once used. Her throat swelled up with the weight of it; her breasts rose and fell as it went up her body, and her cheeks bulged when she clamped her mouth shut, realizing too late that this would be loud-

Her lips, though enormous and powerful enough to turn a milk carton inside out with a single sucking swig, were not strong enough to hold the belch back.

It roared out of her like more a force than an actual sound, wet and dripping as it left her mouth and existed in the world for a long moment. It was a shame John didn’t have any windows in that complex, because then they could have rattled in a way that could satisfy Rose’s sense for drama; it wouldn’t have actually helped the situation, but it would have sounded cool. Stone trembled as the noise went on, so loudly that it silenced every other noise around it, and her gut visibly deflated slightly as the pressure abated. Various chairs actually fell over from the force of it.

And, finally, it faded away, leaving a warm sensation in Rose’s body.

“Excuse me,” she said, daubing at her mouth in the midst of the ensuing silence.

John started to learn forward to say something, and then Rose sighed softly. “Oh,” she said, not exactly wincing but looking fairly alarmed all the same. “That’s an unusual feeling.” She put her hands to the closest bits of rolls and chub that anchored her belly to her body, and squeezed tightly, shutting her eyes.

There was something else coming; another grand change, fueled by the consumption, by her desires, and set off by the burp. Things happened in little steps and then came all at once with the right things to trigger them; she knew this.

And she thought; it was very nice to lean back in this chair. It would be nicer still to not require the chair, for maximum hedonism.

This thought went on its way, and perhaps it gave the surge of sudden physical transformation a specific route to use, a keyword to direct it. She might have already been about to take on the incoming form anyway, and the thought was just a reflection of underlying impulses that heralded it. She didn’t know for sure, and later, it was maddening.

Rose lurched forwards, her legs moving sluggishly beneath her robes and belly. The latter obscured them more effectively as Rose actually managed to get off her chair, floating upwards and then landing with a crash onto the ground. Her stomach softened her landing, and she slid backwards off it onto the ground. The back of her robes flared up, wobbling and shifting alarmingly.

“Uh, should I be looking away-” John started to say, the dimples and outlines of Rose’s butt against her robes growing much more outlined.

The growth interrupted him. Her backside, probably responding to her happiness with reclining so much, grew. Not quite as slowly as her backside, either, swelling out in a great explosion of flesh. Her legs grew shorter as her butt expanded, but it didn’t actually change anything in her height. She just wobbled back and forth, trying to maintain her balance as her butt fluxed outwards, projecting out from her body like a living bustle from Victorian fashion, and kept growing bigger.

It rose up to her waist, and a little bit higher than that, and flared outwards; so big that the sides were as broad as the rest of her body, not confined entirely by her hips. Her butt kept growing, expanding so that it was almost bigger than the rest of her body. It smacked against the ground, taller now than John himself, and Rose leaned back into it, her face almost as shocked as John’s.

Her gut dwarfed it, even so. It didn’t seem to grow larger, apart from the constant state of perpetual expansion it had been showing for some time now, but that was an academic point, given how big it actually was now. Her breasts hung high upon it, and Rose leaned into it, suspended between butt and belly for a perfect balance.

Her legs trembled, and it was hard to see them. Rose frowned, as if puzzled, at a curious cool sensation of her legs. Soon it faded, and she found that she couldn’t feel anything to do with her legs at all. She expanded her perceptions, and gasped aloud. Her legs had fused together, joined in the middle and flowing into a single piece of extended body. While useless for walking, that soon became an irrelevant point: the bones of her legs dissolved, her legs becoming a shapeless mass that hung beneath her.

Any sense of horror was cut off by a pleasurable feeling, like warm nudges coming from inside her. It felt like a sense of pressure too, not unlike that preceding the massive belch that had set off this transformation. The length where her legs had been expanded and swelled out, growing even larger than her upper body and almost as big as her butt, widening out into a sort of living base for her entire body. It was invitingly round, a living sofa for her body to recline into, and it kept expanding until it was twice as broad around as her body. Still dwarfed by her belly, but as she wobbled in place with a few more minor alterations to her stature, she remained stable, and lounged into it.

Rose shifted in place, blinking furiously. She glanced down, her robes exposing quite a lot of flesh below her. Her backside felt very well aired, and her new… base? Podium? Stand? Whatever she might call it, it was certainly supporting her.

Any bewilderment or horror at the transformation was numbed; she was more curious than alarmed. She wiggled in place. Yes; there was something almost liquid within her there, bearing her weight like a living mattress, adjusting itself to her body to avoid any cramps or feelings of discomfort.

She kept wobbling herself, in fact. It felt fun.

Her whole body felt very nice, actually. “Well, that was interesting!” Rose said, feeling herself for any traces of more genuinely inhuman transformation. Well, besides the obvious, of course. She examined herself; massive belly and butt, that puffy lower body base… she looked like a person built of orbs, and she thought it looked very nice on her.

“Rose!?” John floated around her, with the frantic energy normally associated with a hummingbird realizing too late that a diet had been a poor decision. “What happened to you!? Are you okay!?”

“I would say so, yes!” Rose adjusted herself. She turned very easily, her belly dragging on the ground and knocking several chairs and display desks over, folding them into its squishy depths. Feeling those solid objects deep in her belly-skin felt great; so much hard rigidity, shifting against her in all the right ways… oh, that was an interesting sensation.

John slowly floated to the ground. “My food makes people puffy and bloated,” He said, in tones of grave horror. “Why did no one warn me that could happen!?”

“No, no, it wasn’t any quality of your cooking,” Rose said absently, leaning into her massive belly. She was going to need some other means of getting around, but somehow, staying put seemed very attractive. Just enjoying John’s company, and the possibilities offered by her new, lovely body.

She still couldn’t keep her hands off her stomach. It felt so nice to touch, like a massive erogenous zone.

“It was me,” she said, still feeling shockingly calm. She turned towards John, smirking faintly. He looked a little lower on the ground; her new puffy base must have given her a few extra feet in height.

He blinked. His eyes had the glazed look of one trying to process something big, and fit the new Rose into his understanding of the world.

Eventually he said, in patient tones, “Uh. Okay, but. Uh. But, but why, though.”

Rose shrugged, and put her hands right back on her belly where she felt they belonged. “But why not?”

John raised a finger to make a point. He thought about it. He frowned. He lowered the finger. “Fair enough, I guess?”

#commissions #my writing #fics #twitchy!homestuck #twitchy!john egbert #twitchy!rose lalonde #queued

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hol-whore · 4 years

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here’s the other jolyne fic i’ve been working on since like.,,, early november/late october? it’s long. boy howdy is it long. but it’s soft! hopefully!

jolyne x fem s/o – delicate

You and Jolyne have a late night adventure.

what’s on the menu: 4.8k words, fluff AND smut that i like to call “sugar, spice, and everything nice!”, tender emotions, eating out (no-pun-intended), and a jolyne who loves to tease. because i’m gay.

“-and then, you wouldn’t believe it, she ACTUALLY ate it.”

“No joke?” “No joke.” Jolyne promises with a smirk, slurping down the last of her soda and setting the now empty cup down on the table gingerly. She leans back and drapes an arm over the back of the booth as best she can, turning her head to look out the window with a sigh and observing the dimly lit empty parking lot outside.

The tacky fast food joint you and your girlfriend were holed up in was never super busy, and 1 AM on a Friday morning was obviously no exception. Not that either of you had anything to complain about; being the only people in the small establishment just meant anything you talked about was between the two of you and whatever poor employee overheard your wild conversations.

You watch as she reaches her arms above her head to adjust one of her buns and brush a section of her bangs out of her face. The hem of her already short shirt rides up past her belly button, revealing faint abs and stopping just before the shelf of her chest, and the muscles in her strong arms flex as she tugs her hair into place. You stick your straw in your mouth in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from staring.

It was futile, really — you knew that. The pink blush already dusting your cheeks was all Jolyne needed to even decide you’d been staring, and of course she took advantage of it immediately. A whisper of a grin crosses her features before she gives an exaggerated yawn and stretches both arms far above her, even leaning back in her booth slightly for emphasis, earning you an excellent view for just a moment.

“Aw, well,” she sighs, a low grunt forming in her throat once she brings her arms back down, “that wasn’t a totally shitty midnight snack, but we can’t stay here all night.”

“Do we...need to go home now?” you ask softly as Jolyne slides out from her side of the booth and cocks an eyebrow. “I mean. Not really? But plush blankets sound better than pleather burger joint seats...” “No! I didn’t — I didn’t mean we stay here, I just meant… I’m not really ready to go back yet, is all.”

There wasn’t anything wrong with home; frankly, you preferred being home far more than anywhere else around. And since home, lately, had been ‘Jolyne’s place while her dad was away for work’, well…it was safe to say home was more than ideal.

There was just something about the liminal late-night-early-morning hours that soothed your heart. It felt like time stopped once the sun set, possibilities were suddenly endless, nothing stood between you and living a little.

It was freedom --- freedom you relished in, and freedom you wanted to share with the love of your life.

Jolyne gives a short, breathy chuckle, taking your hand as you leave your booth before dropping a satin kiss on your cheek and fishing her keys out from her pants pocket with the other. “Fair enough. I’ve got somethin’ I wanna do, anyway,” she says fondly, then gives your hand a squeeze as the two of you head back to the car.

You have no idea what she has in mind. All your prodding and pleading is met with a quick smile and glance as your girlfriend works through the streets towards the edge of town, music turned up to a comfortable volume and the windows rolled down just so.

Knowing further questions are pointless, you shift your attention to watching lights outside roll by, muttering the words of whatever dorky pop song was playing on the static-ridden radio under your breath. Jolyne all too often catches herself looking past her shoulder to your spot on the passenger side, sometimes for maybe a bit too long. The way your hair whips back in the breeze of the open window and the way your eyes squint on occasion pulls on her heartstrings, a loving ache building up in her chest as she watches you by the light of passing street lamps. You were so, so dear to her, and you drove her crazy with the tiniest of gestures, intended or not.

She grins wide, turning her attention back to the road fully to turn onto a gravelly road only labeled “Orange Gardens Park” and reaches over to place her hand on your thigh. “Almost there, baby. Look familiar?” she says, her voice a song on the wind as she gives the swell of your leg a loving squeeze.

It was familiar — this was the same park she dragged you out to the night she’d kissed you by something that seemed like an accident, the night she fessed up her love and you’d found yourselves closer with each other than ever. The sentiment makes your breath catch in your throat, and your mind fogs up with the memory as you follow her out of the car to find somewhere to settle.

———

“That is NOT Orion. Lookit — no belt.” “....whatever. It’s close enough. We’ll call him… Orion II.”

Jolyne snorts, rolling into to your side as the two of you lay in the grass on the blanket she kept in her car for picnics and random adventures like these. She drapes her arm over your abdomen and presses yet another kiss against your cheek, this time yawning in your ear and kissing the corner of your jaw. “You’re hilarious, baby. A real riot. One helluva comedian.” she muses sleepily, then nuzzles her face against the side of your neck.

You feel your heart warm as you relish in the gentle comfort of feeling her breath against your skin, and the softness of her teasing voice. It was a different kind of teasing from the feisty jabs she usually directed towards others, this kind instead tinted with a quiet adoration.

The warmth in your chest washes over the rest of your body as you shift your shoulder under Jolyne’s head and bring your arm around her back to run your hands through her hair, thankful she’d taken her usual buns out before laying down with you. You loved how cute they were on her, but you felt bad trying to maneuver your fingers through the taut strands between them. It never hurt her — you just figured it was uncomfortable. Jolyne leans into the gesture, sighing happily and gently brushing her thumb across your stomach a couple times.

Shit. She really was something else.

The calm stillness of the night and the comfort of Jolyne next to you tempt you towards sleep, and the only thing that whisks it away is a whisper breaking the quiet between you.

“...you’re wonderful. Y’know that, right? Do I say it enough?” she murmurs, voice cracking slightly from trying to hold a low volume.

Jolyne wasn’t exactly known for being romantic or delicate, but you and anyone close to her knew she could be as sweet as she is tough and spontaneous. Loud grocery store trips with you had the same place in her heart as holding you in bed, heart raw with emotion merely over the bond you shared. Today just must’ve been one of those days.

“Only multiple times everyday,” you giggle, rolling on your side to face her better and pressing a kiss to her nose before she can stop you.

“Noooo, listen, you mean the world to me. Honestly. I...I dunno what I’d do without you, and I don’t like thinkin’ about it. You just get me, and you make me happy, a-and when I’m with you there’s this grip around my heart that makes me wanna do anything and everything for you.” She sounded almost shy; she did frequently express her love, but rarely ever in such a raw manner. “Oh, Jojo....” You think for a moment, trying to find words to match hers. “You’re so comforting to be around, and you’re always so enthusiastic and determined and I feel li-” You’re interrupted by the force of soft, waxy lips smushed against your own, the shock of it almost knocking the wind out of you. She tastes faintly of her cherry coke from earlier, and the scent of bubblegum lipstick and the jasmine perfume she steals from you clouds around her like a sweet mist. It’s messy at first, the grogginess of you both not exactly mixing well, but that doesn’t last long.

There’s a pause, and Jolyne pulls away with a soft apology for the sudden gesture then props herself up on her elbow and rolls you off your side and onto your back for ease of access.

She plants a light kiss to your forehead, then scoots in closer to the side of you of you gingerly, one arm sitting to the side of your head to hold herself up while the other cups your face. You lean into her hand and sigh happily, losing yourself to the romance of it all.

Her laying over you like this always did something to you --- it was so incredibly tender and intimate, her soft gaze ever-adoring, both of you finding comfort and warmth in each other’s eyes. And simply by the gentle smile on her face, you could tell she was thinking something along the same lines.

She leans in after a bit with renewed energy, the glaze over her eyes washing away as she breaks from her own romantic thoughts, and ruffles your hair as she kisses your lips. It starts as a handful of small smooches, but quickly melts into something more like a make out session.

“Mm, Jojo,” you mumble between sugary kisses, earning her attention, “where’s all this coming from? You were falling asleep mere moments ago.” She pulls away, and you faintly see her roll her eyes in the pale starlight before a more crooked grin spreads across her face, and the hand cupping your cheek moves down to rest on your stomach.

God, she was so cute.

“Dunno. Guess you just tend to have that effect on me, babe. C’mere, I’m not done,” she whispers. Her voice is laced with sleepy romance as she brings your mouths together again, struggling through her wide smile.

Her teeth graze against your bottom lip in a gentle bite. The hand on your stomach eventually roams elsewhere, first dropping to trace underneath the waistband of your pants and pausing when you whine in response. Jolyne breaks away from your kiss, pride written plainly on her flushed face, hand drawing back up slightly. A brief, teasing laugh falls from her mouth at your reaction, and you suddenly feel very hot.

“Whoops. How’d that happen?”

The question isn’t genuine, of course. She knew how to push your buttons, and she knew just when to push them. It turns out all of the love talk and minute gestures tonight had you feeling a stir somewhere deep inside yourself — and as far as you could guess, Jolyne was feeling it too.

She looks towards her hand as she scruffs the faint tuft of hair beneath your belly button, humming with fond satisfaction and muttering a quiet “so cute” under her breath, and you watch with careful curiosity as she sits up. Jolyne shakes her arms out a bit, then turns and stretches her leg over you, situating herself on the lower part of your torso and locking you in a straddle. She rocks ever so slightly, aiming to get comfy, and heats up at the feeling of your raised knees pressing your thighs against her back. Ginger hands brush hair from your face, and Jolyne looks thoughtful as she stares down at you.

“Is this, uh. Is this alright? Comfy? W-We can go sit in the car instead, or just skip it altogether, it’s just,” she breathes, somewhat fragile, followed by a weak laugh punctuated by her hands holding yours yet again, “I can’t seem to keep my hands off tonight.”

You flush, and only muster a nod before Jolyne is upon you, a soft smile almost immediately gracing her features as she leans down to kiss your forehead and slides her hands up your sides, thumbs firmly pressing into the underside of your breasts, and you decide you don’t regret not wearing a bra before going out earlier. She gives them a gentle push, and you feel slick between your thighs when she pulls your shirt up to your shoulders. You groan ever so quietly, and Jolyne - bright eyes taking in every bit of you, loving your reactions - almost growls at the sound.

She mostly delights herself in just admiring your body, at first. You feel rightfully exposed under her gaze, but in a way that you welcome warmly. She traces every contour of your body with her curious, fiery gaze, frequently coming to rest on your chest. The hunger in her eyes in undeniable and, damn, was it hot.

“Look at you, baby. I live for all this,” she praises after a beat, and her hand drags over your sternum and then slides a finger down the valley of your chest. You shudder at the sensation, your back arching in a small wave. She grins once again, then runs her hand back up your sides and across your collarbones, slow and tantalizing. “You’re just so gorgeous and sensitive… ooh, and I bet you’re dripping wet already, too, huh? Just from having my hands on you?”

Fuck, that got you.

Your hand, resting lightly on her hip, tenses some and it does not go unnoticed.

“Wh-What on earth makes you think you already have me that bothered,” you grumble, practically posing a statement instead of a question. In truth, you weren’t sure how to respond to her — but you could make a pretty good guess, considering how your time together had been going. She had you wrapped around her pretty fingers. “You’ve barely started. It’s been mostly sappy talk till now.”

Jolyne cocks her brow, then scoffs as lovingly as one can. “I know how you are, cutie. You make short work of yourself waaay before I can really touch you,” she stops for a moment, then something crosses her face before asking, smug and unrelenting, “Now, is that an invitation for me to investigate?” Her shoulder rolls slightly to reach back, threatening to search for your core somewhere beneath her.

Without thinking, you shift a little under her and make a desperate grab for her hand to fill the now-chilly empty space on your chest again before she can make it very far. A dangerous smirk spreads over her face.

“Ooh, needy. So that’s how it is today, hmm?” she taunts, bringing her hand forward again and ghosting a thumb over your hardening nipples. She rubs a gentle circle over it a couple times, then finishes it off with a sturdy pinch, tugging somewhat. You gasp and buck hopelessly up into her, not finding pressure in the right spot, then you force your hand up to place it over hers as you wince. Jolyne laughs a little, touching your cheek fondly with her other hand. She intertwines her fingers with the hand holding yours for a moment, then lowers herself to your neck.

Jolyne presses a few kisses thereabout, kneading and groping your chest arrhythmically and chuckling when you whine and whimper, then ducks down to wrap color-smudged lips around one of your nipples and sucks gently. You feel her teeth graze the bud on occasion, and every now and then she’ll tease you with the tip of her tongue or push you closer with a soft yet definitive bite. Sometimes she draws away just to kiss or suck on the warm skin around your areola; never enough to seriously bruise, but not rarely leaving a mark. Whichever breast isn’t occupied by her mouth at the time receives the gentle brushing of her thumb over the blossomed bud. She has you hopelessly aroused, tender nipples almost aching from the attention, and you thread your fingers through her hair to get her attention.

“Jojo, I want you t— “ Shit. She looks up at you with half-lidded, gorgeous eyes and terribly smeared lipstick, moving the attention away from your sore breast after a couple reassuring kisses to any marks she left, and it catches you completely off guard.

“Hmm? You want what, babe? Do I need to back o-”

“No! N-No, please don’t stop, it’s just. I want you to…y’know.”

“I do not, no. But I could probably guess,” Wryly, Jolyne kisses you and brushes her thumb over your lips. “Why don’t you tell me what you want, baby girl, just in case?”

You never had a way with words, and trying to figure out how to tell her to do such lewd things, to touch you more, to eat you out, to slide those beautiful long fingers in you and give you what you need proved to be…well. Difficult, to say the least.

“C-Can you…” Nope. “I need-” Also no. “...touch me?” Yikes.

Jolyne was never big on torturing you, or even being degrading — she loved you a bit too fondly to go that far — but suddenly, you just seemed to be asking for a fair taunting.

“I’m already touching you, sweetheart. C’mon, just tell me.”

You breathe deep, wanting to complain that she knows what you mean, as Jolyne encouragingly strokes your cheek, then grabs your breast and gives your nipple a pinch yet again. A huffy whine escapes your lips, your back arching again just so. Jolyne looks amused.

“I...want your hands on me. I-In me. And I want you to…taste me?”

She raises her eyebrows and smirks. “You want me to taste you?” she asks, pressing for details, “Why, that could mean anything.” With a smug look coating her face, she kisses your cheek. “You taste alright there-”

She was driving you crazy. “Jolyne! Just- just….e-eat me out, please?”

Jolyne looks far too delighted as she kisses your lips one last time and scoffs, a smile still gracing her features. “Pfft. Whore.” Then, thoughtfully, “That makes two of us though.”

You laugh at that, short and distracted. Part of you hated how turned on the whore comment made you; the other part knew that, given the situation, it didn't matter that much. Jolyne eases herself down, settling her hips between your knees after tugging your pants down and off your legs. She presses two fingers against you, feeling you through your underwear, then grins and bites her lip. “Oh my god, you’re adorable. I was right. So, so wet already, huh?”

Knowing her, she was twice as soaked as you were.

Jolyne tugs the fabric of your dampened underwear to the side. She swipes her finger up your entrance a couple times, loving the warmth and wetness of your folds. You were so ready for her, and she loved being the cause for all your pleasure. You feel her thigh and hip tremble slightly farther down your body. Clearly, she was enjoying herself.

She slides that same finger in slowly, your sex taking her entirely too easily, and after a couple pumps she slips another in and presses her thumb to your clit. You can only gasp, hand darting to her head and gripping a fistful of her hair. Jolyne groans and looks up to your face.

“Someone’s having fun,” she practically sings. Her fingers curl just so and search for that spot that absolutely wrecks you; and Jolyne knows damn well when she finds it.

Your thighs tense and you can't stop the moan falling from your lips, followed only by a breathy whine. Her fingers working a bit rougher at the sound, Jolyne winces and pants somewhat. “That’s a good girl, yes please, baby doll,” she says dreamily. Her mind was getting ever so hazy, and she was hopelessly wet from watching you squirm and hearing every noise you made.

You feel her buck into nothing between your legs upon hearing another of your moans and the lewd, sloppy sounds of her fingers pumping through you, and she's shifting uncomfortably for a moment after. Through lidded eyes, you watch her pull her fingers out, suck on them briefly, then take a moment to bring her hand to her own region and grind against it briefly.

“God, if I had my strap,” she huffs, voice dripping with lust as she finally pulls your underwear down and off, then settles in once more with her head at your waist, “it would be Smashville for you, babe. One way ticket.”

You laugh through labored breaths and roll your eyes, then spread your legs and reach forward to touch her head. “Th-That's the lamest thing you’ve ever said,” you mutter. Her fine hands slide under you, rounding the space between your thighs and ass. She winks up at you and bumps her shoulders in a half shrug. “And yet, here you are, still seconds from doing the splits ‘cuz your legs are so wide.”

…She had a point.

Jolyne breathes deep, then presses a handful of slow, full kisses to your inner thighs, inching closer towards your entrance with each one but never quite getting close enough. Each kiss drives you closer to an invisible edge, and you squirm and gasp when she pauses right next to your slot to kiss even deeper before moving to the other thigh. It’s obvious Jolyne is smiling more and more as she goes along; your heart swells at the intimacy of it all.

Just as she inches close again, you groan loud and gasp her name, and your legs shift to make room for her face, expecting her to move on. A beat skips, and Jolyne suddenly makes a frustrated noise and presses her face into one of your thighs. It’s oddly endearing, but still startling and concerning, and you have to stop the giggle in your throat to check on her.

“J-Jojo, is everything-”

Another groan.

Then, a muffled something.

“...what?”

She tilts her head to look at you from your thigh, a smile spread from ear to ear. “You’re just so fucking cuuute! Shit dude, I dunno, I haven’t even gotten that far and I’m trying to focus on going down on you, but you keep being adorable and I can’t stop smiling! Cut it out!”

Of course that’s a problem.

“What? I didn't do-”

One of Jolyne’s hands slip out from under you, dramatically covering her mouth as she rolls to one side somewhat, her eyes squinting shut. She moans out loud through her hand, whiny and mocking. “‘Mm, Jolyne! Oh, ahh, no, Jojo, please!’”

“I do NOT sound like that.” you grumble, flushed face heating up further at her theatrics.

“You literally just did it, baby. Not to mention -- I am very acquainted with what you sound like.” She looks more proud of herself than she ever has before, then her face softens as she slips her hand back around your thigh and preps herself to enter again. “Ready, sweetheart?” she asks, patting your leg somewhat and kissing under your belly button.

You nod, aching to finally feel her tongue against you. Jolyne takes a breath, then presses a light kiss to your clit followed by a dart of her tongue. Electricity courses through you, but before you can process it further, she continues. Her tongue laps just against the outside of your folds, faint and gentle and teasing, and it has you shuddering and gripping the blanket laid out on the grass.

One, two, three more light licks, the best kisses she can manage along the vertical, a brief kiss then suckle on your clit. When you jerk in her direction, she gives your clit just a couple more indulgent small, quick licks. Her hands grip your hips as she angles your pelvis up just enough and draws you closer to her.

You feel your mind pass the hazy stage and go straight to absent as Jolyne finally dips her tongue in you, the shallow depth entirely too exciting. She grunts and moans, something that sounds like it got mixed with a snicker on the way out, and you move to grab her hair again. The work her tongue is doing has you feeling like you're on another planet.

Each incoherent shape made with the flicks of her tongue, each break for a long, slow lick, each time her nose bumps your clit-- they drive you mad. Anytime you moan than a whisper or call her name you feel Jolyne fight a smile. She hits a particularly good stroke and you cry out louder than you anticipate, and when she sends vibrations through you with the snicker she lets out by accident you feel twice as wet as you did before.

Somewhere in you, a familiar string is tightening. You gather the strength to give Jolyne’s head an encouraging rub then clutch her hair again. “H-Hey, Sir Laughs-A-Lot, I’m close-” you manage, your breath heavy. Jolyne hums a response, then pulls herself slightly closer to get in deep. You throw your head back and your thighs clench and you do your best to not squeeze them together and smother Jolyne between your legs as you come hard. Jolyne gives a couple slow, long licks to help you ride your climax out before planting one last small kiss against your folds and pulling herself away from your sex.

Lust and exhaustion lid her darkened eyes, your arousal coating her entire chin. She gives you a wet kiss, then wipes her face with the corner of the blanket and collapses on top of you with her head on your chest. You were both exhausted in the best way possible, and the feeling of Jolyne’s fingers gingerly rubbing your collarbone as she sighs dreamily makes you feel like you could fall asleep right in this park.

“You did so well, Jojo. Thanks,” you whisper against her hair. You feel her cheek push against your chest in a smile. “Thank you,” Jolyne mutters back, “for the meal. Everything was delicious, chef.”

Oh god. “If you ever talk about my pussy like it's a five star restaurant meal again, we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Damn, you’re right. We don't have nearly enough money for a wedding anytime soon....” she mumbles, sighing.

You roll your eyes. As much as you hated to admit it, it was really funny; you were just entirely too tired to appreciate it.

The sky above shows a different scene than you remember seeing before your….adventures. Clouds had meandered along their horizons, trudging along like ships at sea. The moon had traveled quite a bit, partially hidden by a dusky cloud, and tree frogs croak and croon from somewhere distant.

“We should probably get home,” you whisper, dragging your hand across her back and kissing her head.

Jolyne heaves a dramatic sigh and kisses your collarbone. “Yeah, I guess…I had a great time tonight, baby. Thanks for letting me drag ya out here. We should come back for a picnic or some shit another time when it's light out.” She pauses, and you feel something sly change in her before she even speaks. “We could set up somewhere kinda set apart, have our lunch...mmm, and if it was too hot out we could lose some clothes-”

Your mind falters imagining it, Jolyne’s sweating, toned body pulling her shirt off to reveal nothing more than a bra and lots of muscle, faux innocence in her eyes when she taunts you with “what’s wrong, baby girl?”, the way her hands would rest on your body after urging you to lose your clothes as well, the inevitable contact between the two of you --

“...and you would suck on these pretty tits to keep your mouth shut, and if we got caught…I mean. I’ve been arrested before. It’s not that bad. Might even be worth it.” She winks up at you as if everything she just said wasn't vile and vulgar as all hell. The horrified-yet-intrigued look on your face makes Jolyne smirk, and she pats your stomach twice before sitting up and helping you with your clothes. You gather the blanket in your arms and walk back to the car, a weird sense of calm washing over you both. Jolyne turns the key and grabs your hand, pressing a light kiss against it before putting the car into drive and starting the ride back home.

You knew you would both crash as soon as you got into bed, and in the morning you’d be too tired to do much of anything. Jolyne’s father wasn't due home for a couple of days; you’d have the house to yourselves with no concerns. You wanted to shower with her in the morning, you think, then cuddle up in comfy clothes and sit in each other's arms and Jolyne would come up with some silly game to play or turn on a cheesy horror movie. But for now, all you had was the hum of the engine, the static-ridden radio, and Jolyne’s hand in yours, and you didn't want anything more.

#'atlas this is messy' BIG oh well #jolyne cujoh #jolyne x reader #jjba #jjba fanfic #my writing #not sfw #hmmmm i like this one but nerves #'atlas this is STILL ooc' oh well #i've reread this so many times for clarity and errors askjfhbsjk

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

The Ballerina and the B-girl Part 7 (Branjie)

a/n: last chronological chapter of this story! next will be some one shots in this lesbian AU as previously said. Hope you all enjoy and thank you for supporting this story!

Vanjie gave directions to the restaurant as Brooklyn drove one handed, the other sitting on the centre console with her fingers laced with Vanessa’s. Vanjie felt both nerves and total contentment, a renewed confidence in Brooke’s intentions with her. The blonde clearly wanted something more than pure sex out of their relationship, which made Vanessa want to squeal with delight. Everything about Brooke enchanted her, and she wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

The car pulled up in a spot beside a small restaurant and the pair hopped out. Vanessa felt her confidence falter as she judged Brooke’s reaction to her chosen location. The blonde turned to smile sweetly at Vanessa, taking her hand once more.

“I know it’s not much, probably not somewhere you’d go, but it’s my favourite and I wanted to show you” Vanjie blabbed, trying to justify to her date why they were outside a fairly run down building. Brooke brought a single finger up to Vanessa’s lips to shush her, before pressing a quick peck to them.

“Vanessa, you could have taken me to McDonalds and I wouldn’t have thought twice. I can’t wait to see your favourite restaurant, I like learning little things about you and what you like”

Vanjie swooned, how she got so lucky she didn’t know. Here Brooklyn was, the fucking CEO of an evidently affluent company, not caring in the slightest where they ate as long as it was together. The women walked into the joint hand in hand and were given a secluded booth in the back. Brooke looked around with curious eyes, taking in the beautiful detailing on the walls and the appropriately under-the-sea mural painted on the far wall.

“I can see the appeal baby, it’s beautiful in here” she mused, at which Vanjie beamed with pride. Brooke didn’t look at her menu, instead insisting that Vanessa order her usual favourite items. As the basic and reasonably priced seafood tower complete with a little crab and a couple of oysters arrived, the blonde’s eyes lit up and Vanjie felt her heart constrict with adoration. They talked about anything and everything as they ate. It was after they had finished and were enjoying a glass of wine that a certain topic came up that provoked a reaction in Brooke that Vanjie had not been anticipating.

“I got two brothers and we get on alright. My dad ain’t in the picture, just my mum. She and I are best friends, bitch basically called me out of the closet, never had to come out to her trick ass she just knew. You shoulda seen her at pride last year, dancing her ass off!” Vanjie mused about her family. She noticed Brooke stiffen and subconsciously moved her hand on top of the blonde’s.

“They sound lovely Vanessa, you’re very lucky to have them” Brooke replied, not meeting Vanjie’s eyes.

“Guessing you had a bit of a different experience?” Vanessa asked softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Brooke’s ear. The blonde took in a big breath before looking into Vanjie’s large brown eyes.

“Safe to say my parents weren’t thrilled when I came out to them, they are both devout Christians. As I’ve never had a girlfriend to bring home, they have just been ignoring that aspect of my life since. Don’t get me wrong, I know that they love me, but I just wish that they would accept me for all that I am. They are so proud of me for all my career achievements, but I know that they have never told any of their friends or my extended family about me being a lesbian because they are ashamed”

Vanjie drew in a sharp breath and pulled the taller girl into a tight hug. Brooke was usually so sultry, confident and unapologetic, and suddenly she seemed so small and vulnerable.

“Well no offence to your parents, but they’re stupid for missing out. You are such an amazing person Brooklyn, and I’m sorry they won’t see all of that” Brooke smiled shyly at that, and leaned in so that her lips were close to Vanessa’s.

“Maybe if one day I was to find a woman that I really liked, someone I could see a life with…someone I could take home and present with pride, then they might finally accept me. Who knows?” she mused wholeheartedly, pressing her lips to Vanessa’s. A spark of something strong hit Vanjie’s chest and she felt on top of the world. Brooke wanted to go for this, she really liked her for real.

“That you saying that you wanna make something outta this Miss Brooklyn?” Vanjie asked softly, the tiniest bit of doubt in her mind. Brooke looked at her with hooded eyes littered with adoration.

“I’m all in Vanessa” she clarified, placing a hand on Vanjie’s hip and pulling the brunettes legs over her lap so that they were draped over her own, “I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to spoil you with everything you could want, I want late night loving and mid day naps with you. I want to take you nice places, I want to introduce you to my parents one day. I want all of you, if you’ll have me?”

Vanjie’s eyes shone with delight, ‘Girlfriend! She wants me to be her girlfriend!’

“Well you’ve got yourself a girlfriend then Mami” Vanjie replied, and with that Brooke connected their lips in another kiss, this one deeper and more heartfelt. Vanessa signalled for the check and before long the couple was walking down the street to the car, hands linked and promises unspoken.

—Much later that night—

Brooke had dropped Vanjie home after a considerable pit stop at her house for the women to consummate their newly established relationship; drawn out and passionately exploring each others bodies. They both knew that with work in the morning Vanessa would have to go home, hence why she was now opening her front door rather than lying cuddled up naked in bed with her blonde bombshell of a girlfriend.

Girlfriend…just thinking of the word made butterflies dance in Vanessa’s tummy. Brooklyn was her girlfriend.

Akeria was still awake, sitting on the couch painting her nails.

“Have a good time Vanj?” she asked, seeing the giddy expression on her best friend’s face.

“She asked me to be her girlfriend, she’s my fucking girlfriend” Vanjie mused and Akeria gave a soft laugh at how pussy whipped Vanjie was.

“I’m happy that you’re happy Vanjie, can’t wait to meet this woman thats got you acting a damn fool” Akeria laughed.

‘Can’t wait either’ Vanjie thought to herself. Anything involving Brooke was so exciting, so new and so exhilarating. Vanessa couldn’t believe what she’d gotten out of simply coming to dance practice early, she vowed to always be early to everything from now on as it seemed to be her lucky charm.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #lesbian au #tw homophobia #submission #the ballerina and the b girl #starsha #dance au #s11

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icymapletree · 4 years

Text

#2: trick or treat

trick or treat (ft. the guardians)

Read on Ao3

Post-battle shawarma had become somewhat of a tradition with the Avengers. Even though very few of the original team members remained on call, it was a tradition passed on through the group.

This was Peter’s third shawarma outing, but by far the most crowded. Everyone on the payroll was there, packed into the family-owned joint that was just two blocks away from Avengers Tower. The only change that had come to the restaurant since 2012 was the addition of a sign the size of standardized printer paper, boasting a pixelated Avengers logo and claiming that the place was “Approved by the World’s Mightiest Heroes.”

And that was definitely true.

It was pretty much the only place in NYC fit to feed multiple super-metabolisms - or, depending on how you look at it, willing to feed more than one. Peter alone could eat eight meals after a battle, nevermind adding in Thor, Bucky and T’Challa.

In their post battle haste, no one remembered what the villain of the week had wanted, all that mattered was that he was defeated and there was shawarma on the table.

“Yo, Spidey, pass me the ketchup!” Sam hollered from across the table over the steady hum of conversation.

“Ketchup? On your shawarma?”

“Not for me! It’s for the big gray guy without the shirt.”

Drax crossed his arms. “I am not gray. I am mesquite green.”

“Yeah, yeah, same thing.”

“It is not the same.” Drax said, catching the ketchup packet that Peter threw to him.

Peter shook his head fondly when Quill elbowed him in the ribs. “Got anything going on this week? The Guardians are gonna stay on Earth for a few days… unless anything, you know, world ending happens.”

“I have decathlon, but other than that, I just have to take Morgan Trick-or-Treating on Thursday,” Peter said, eyes widening in realization, “Oh my god, you all should totally come with us.”

“Nah, nah. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding. Besides, I love you guys and the Starks love you guys. It would be no problem,” Peter smiled, “Where are you guys staying, anyway?”

“Compound,” Quill nodded, “Plenty of room for all of us.”

“I have my internship tomorrow so I’ll see you there,” he smiled.

…

The common room in the compound was generally busy these days. People always came and went, some staying overnight and others only staying an afternoon. The Guardians were all in their rooms, catching up on some much-needed sleep - which sucked for Peter, considering that he had trekked two and a half hours by car to get there and that the compound could be quite isolated without anyone to talk to.

He was in the middle of Patrick Ness’ The Ask and the Answer - which he was determined to finish, even if the post-apocalyptic nature was a little much for him the year after the war. He had borrowed the book from MJ, and the pages were defaced with post-it notes and little doodles filling the margins. Peter enjoyed looking at her little scribbles as he read.

He chose the comfiest chair in the common room and settled in for his break. He was only on break for a little bit - Tony was expecting him back in the lab soon - so he multitasked by reading and eating at the same time. It was a dangerous game he was playing, but not an unfamiliar one.

At some point, Neula stumbled into the living room and asked Peter if she could sit. Peter nodded, dog-earing the corner of the page he was on and shutting it with a thump.

“What are you going to be for Halloween?” Peter asked, lacing his fingers together on his lap.

“I was reading something most interesting on Google,” Nebula said, staring at Peter with an emotionless expression. Peter nodded for her to continue talking. “It says that most Terran girls go as cats for Halloween, so I will as well.”

“Very cool,” Peter grinned as Nebula’s head jerked mechanically to look at him.

“Yes, very cool indeed,” she said, giving a little smile.

“What are you going to be for Halloween, Peter?”

“Spider-Man.”

Nebula tilted her head. “I thought you already were Spider-Man?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am. But not everyone knows that. I can make some kids real happy.”

“Ah,” Nebula pursed her lips, “So that’s what this holiday is, then? For the children of Terra?”

“Yep, that’s pretty much it. Just an excuse for them to eat candy and put on costumes.”

They sat in silence for a few moments as Nebula tried to wrap her head around the concept of Halloween.

“What was your favorite costume as a smaller child?”

Peter laughed to himself for a second. “Once, I went as Iron Man two years in a row. I think it’s safe to say that it was my favorite costume.”

“Where does one get such a costume?”

Peter looked away for a second to think. “I got my mask from the Stark Expo,” he said, “and my gloves were knitted by Ben. He liked to knit, I remember.”

“What is the Stark Expo? And who is Ben?”

“The Stark Expo was a convention Tony put on in like, 2010. There was Iron Man merch and booths with sciency stuff,” Peter took a deep breath, “and Ben, he was my uncle.”

Nebula tilted her head. “Was?”

“Yeah… he was.” Peter cleared his throat and looked at his feet.

“I had an uncle,” she admitted, a faraway look in her eyes, “I only ever saw him once. In a picture that Thanos had hidden from me.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, “at least I had time with mine.”

“I once heard that it’s not fair to compare tragedies.”

Peter cocked his head.

“But I do think it’s fair to say that we’ve both found lots more family than we ever expected in unlikely places,” she concluded.

Peter looked at Nebula, noticing that she seemed more comfortable in her own skin. Her eyes weren’t as lifeless as they were during Titan - they looked vivacious, youthful even. The arms that were usually tensed and ready to attack were relaxed at her side.

She looked happy.

“Yeah, yeah, we have.”

…

“Pumpkin!” Peter exclaimed with open arms as he walked in the house, Morgan rushing towards him and clambering into his embrace.

“Petey! Petey! I’m so excited, I get to be a strawberry!” she babbled, tugging on his ear. Peter brushed one long chunk of hair out of her face, his grin lighting up the room.

May entered the cabin behind her kid, shutting the door behind herself as she entered, to stop the cold from creeping into the house.

“Aren’t you allergic to strawberries, Morg?”

“Yeah, but they’re still really yummy.”

“Don’t ask,” Tony groaned, turning the corner into the entrance hall, “That was a long night spent in the hospital. Turns out she’s almost as allergic as Pepper.”

“I didn’t know Pepper was allergic,” Peter said, pursing his lips.

Tony sighed. “I didn’t know either, until I bought some for her.”

“You did not.”

“I definitely did.”

Peter rolled his eyes at Tony, but then turned back around to face Morgan, kneeling down. “You know, Morg, I used to be allergic to blueberries. But I still loved them.”

“It’s true,” May confirmed, “I remember when he ate a blueberry muffin at school in second grade and they had to call the ambulance.”

Tony tilted his head. “Used to?”

“After the bite, all my allergies except for shellfish went away... lemme tell you how nice it is to not have to carry around an Epi-Pen all the time.”

“Huh,” Tony said, beckoning them forward with a wave of his hand, “Do you all want to take off your coats and stay awhile?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, rolling his eyes and beginning to follow Tony into the kitchen.

The four of them were led by Tony through the picture-lined halls of the cabin. There were photographs of Tony and Rhodey in college, some of Pepper and her mother - and even a few pictures of Peter as a kid. Peter’s favorite one of himself was with Ben and May outside of the Stark Expo. Peter wondered if Tony knew that they had crossed paths that day.

His favorite picture overall was group shot in Wakanda after the final battle. It wasn’t anything formal, just a bunch of the Avengers hanging out and laughing. If you had told Peter six years ago that this would be his life - Trick-or-Treating with the Starks, being an Avenger - he would’ve simply said that you were joking.

Now, though, he couldn’t imagine his life any other way.

Once they were in the kitchen, Peter sat on a stool at the island while Tony checked on something in the oven.

“Are the Guardians here yet?”

“No, they’re on their way,” Tony responded, opening a cabinet and pulling out two cups, “Water?”

“Yes, please,” Peter nodded, “What are you gonna be when we take Morgan around the neighborhood?”

“Starbucks barista.”

“Hm. Not bad. What about Pep?”

“Butterfly.”

Tony handed the cup of water to Peter when a little hand grabbed the back of his sweatshirt and tugged. Peter spun around and saw Morgan looking at him with wide brown eyes.

“You wanna see my costume?”

“Already? We still have a while until Trick-or-Treat.”

She glared, while Tony waved a dismissive hand. “She’s worn it all week,” the older man shrugged, “What’s an extra hour?”

Peter smiled. “Alright, let’s go,” he said, scooping her up and walking up the stairs to her room.

...

Morgan’s room told a story in it of itself. The walls were white wood, the ceiling slanted. There were the traditional little girl things, like a tiny vanity and stuffed animals - but there were also Iron Man masks and Avengers knick-knacks.

Her room matched the rest of the house in the fact that there were photos covering every spare surface. Pictures of Tony and Pepper, pictures of Gerald, some of Peter and May. Fairy lights that Peter had put up lit the walls, glowing bright white.

The pair walked in, Peter flopping onto the bed and Morgan rushing to her closet to find her costume. She took the red dress that had yellow teardrops painted on it to represent seeds and ran to the bathroom to change.

“You should braid my hair,” she said when she returned, “like mommy taught you.”

“I don’t remember Pep teaching me to braid your hair.”

“You wouldn’t, silly,” she giggled, her laugh like tinkling bells, “Daddy said you were ‘higher than the clouds.’ You kept asking mommy to do your hair, too.”

Peter thought about it for a second, a memory coming back hazily. It must’ve been when the Starks were in NYC for winter break and he clambered to Avengers Tower with a gunshot wound. Morgan wasn’t home for that - thank God - but she kept visiting him in the MedBay after her return.

Cho had put him on the suped up Captain America meds - apparently he metabolized faster than Steve, who knew? - and he most definitely wasn’t thinking straight. Peter had literally zero clue how he had managed to braid her hair in any coherent way, but whatever.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll try.”

Morgan smiled so wide and then sat in front of Peter. She passed him a pink WetBrush and he split her hair into two parts.

“Mommy says I should wear these,” Morgan said, handing Peter two green scrunchies. He used one to pigtail the right section to keep it out of the way of the left.

“Three chunks of hair, right?”

“Chunk is a funny word,” she laughed. Peter took that as a yes.

Once he got started, it seemed to be second nature for him to do it. He faked his way through the French braid part on top, but other than that, it went pretty smooth.

When he finished, he clapped his hands together. “Go tell me what you think.”

The little girl rushed to the bathroom and she returned with a pleased expression. “They look very good, Petey.”

“Thanks Morg - umpf!” he said, as she clambered him over into a hug.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

“They’re here!” Morgan yelled, darting down the stairs.

Peter sighed and fondly shook his head, following after the small girl.

…

“Drax, you have to wear a shirt!” Quill yelled from across the group that was waiting at the front door to head out into the neighborhood.

“My nipples are too sensitive!”

Morgan giggled and Tony shook a disapproving finger at her.

“There’s going to be a lot of children, you have to at least wear a jacket or something!”

“On my home planet, children do not care if you are not wearing a shirt.”

“This isn’t your home planet, buddy, that isn’t how they do things here.”

Drax looked around, pensive. “Fine. I will wear a shirt.”

Quill cheered. “Okay, now that big guy is finally agreeing to something for once in his life, I think we can head out when you’re ready, Tony.”

“Sounds good,” Tony nodded as Drax begrudgingly put a shirt on. “Pete, you ready?” he called upstairs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ready,” Peter yelled back, appearing around the corner in his spider suit and jumping down the staircase, skipping all of the steps and thudding onto the wooden floor.

Tony’s hand shot up to his heart. “Jesus, kid. I have heart problems.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, taking his mask off the kitchen table and holding it in his gloved had.

“I am Groot,” the tree said, to which Rocket shushed him and Gamora laughed into her hand.

“So, May, Pep, you guys are good here, right?” Tony asked.

Pepper smiled. “Yeah, hon. We’ll join you later,” she called from the couch, where she and May were watching Hocus Pocus.

Peter looked at the living room with a frown. “I want to watch Hocus Pocus.”

Tony scoffed. “You’re worse than Morgan -”

“Hey!” the little girl in question interjected.

“- and I know it’s in you nature to watch anything remotely related to pop culture, but we’ve gotta go, or we’re not going to hit any houses tonight.”

Peter grumbled, but followed the group outside when Tony opened the door.

The cold hit them quickly, feeling thick and sharp as it entered their lungs. Reds and oranges painted the trees, which Quill looked at with delight.

“I used to do these things when I was little… where I’d take a crayon and color over the leaves to get an imprint of them -”

“We used to do something similar on my planet. But with bones,” Drax commented in all seriousness.

Morgan looked at Drax with an exasperated expression before dashing up to where Peter and Tony were. She put her little hand up against Peter’s, who took it in his gloved palm.

“How long till we make it to a house, Petey?” she asked, swinging their arms as she walked.

“Not too much longer, Pumpkin. We’re almost into the main neighborhood.”

Morgan nodded enthusiastically.

The group continued their trek with Gamora smiling from her place on Quill’s arm as he continued his babbling. Nebula walked alongside Gamora, her lips ever so slightly upturned. Groot and Rocket walked together in relative quiet, but Peter, Tony, Morgan, Drax, and Mantis made up for it with their noise.

“There it is, Morgan. The first house of the evening,” Peter chuckled, bending over a little bit and pointing at a light gray house.

Morgan overdramatically gasped and began to run up ahead of the rest of the group, eyes glowing with mischief. Peter looked at Tony, pointing behind him to the man’s daughter with his thumb.

“I’m gonna go catch her, now,” he said, to which Tony nodded.

Peter caught up to her with ease, picking her up around the waist and holding her over his head like she was flying. Morgan yelped and cheered as he ‘wooshed’ her around.

…

Gamora and Peter Quill strayed a little behind the rest of the group, holding hands. Quill ran his thumb over Gamora’s as they walked, sharing a brief moment of intimacy within the chaos of living with the Guardians and Trick-or-Treating with the Starks.

They observed the way Tony acted towards Peter and Morgan, a silent pact that they wanted that at some point in their lives.

There were many impressed exclamations every time they followed the group up to a stoop, complimenting everyone’s ‘face paint.’ It didn’t bother Quill, and it especially didn’t bother Gamora - she was just different than anything they’d ever seen before.

It did get her wondering, though. If they ever settled down, where would they go? Certainly, they couldn’t stay on Earth if they wanted to have kids. Could they even have kids with each other?

Quill sensed Gamora’s inner turmoil and put a tentative arm around her waist, kissing her on the cheek. “What’s going on in there?” he asked.

She gestured to Peter, Morgan and Tony. “I want that at some point,” she said, shrugging.

“Yeah?” he tilted his head, “I do, too.”

…

Morgan sat criss-cross on the floor, candy-filled pillowcase in hand as Peter sat on the edge of the couch.

“Maybe we shouldn’t? It would be really hard to clean up -” he said, but was quickly interrupted by her dumping her candy on the floor.

“Oh… um, hm,” Peter stumbled, “Do you want to sort it by type of candy? Or by color?”

“No,” she said decisively, unwrapping a sucker and shoving it into her mouth, “I’ll make sets.”

“Okay…” Peter trailed off, leaning farther into the couch, “Can I help?”

“No,” she insisted.

“I’m gonna go find your daddy, then.”

Morgan nodded, already pairing together Skittles and M&Ms.

Peter looked for Tony for a little while, ultimately finding him in the rocking chair on the porch. He took a spot next to the older man, face illuminated by the porch light.

“Hey, kid,” Tony said, staring intently at the moon.

“Hi Mr Stark,” Peter responded, propping his head up on his hands.

Tony looked at Peter and tilted his head. “Why do you call me Mr Stark still?”

Peter went oddy silent. “Because that’s your name,” he eventually said, softly.

The older man’s eyes shined. “Yeah, that may be, Pete. But it’s so formal,” he sighed, then inhaled deeply, “You came Trick-or-Treating with us, buddy. You’re family.”

Moonlight shined on Peter’s hair as he looked away.

“You’re my kid, Peter. Just as much as Morgan.”

Their eyes gleamed when Peter returned his gaze to the older man’s.

“Okay, Tony,” he said, his grin growing.

#13 nights of halloween #peter parker #tony stark #morgan stark #irondad #irondad fic

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reallybadpreacher · 4 years

Text

Too dark

“While I lay in the bath, she knelt down, placed her hand on my chest, feeling every breath of my lungs before her hand lowered down to my stomach then onto my balls. Tenderly rolling them around in her fingers followed by gripping my freshly hard cock. “

One year, three weeks and seventeen days after Trudys funeral, my life took a new direction. I found that some women in the many churches I passed through were very flirty. The pain of losing Trudy still seared my emotions. I may have subconsciously blocked they’re flirtations and figured they were just having a little fun.

I had been building a good reputation in my relief work across the country when the opportunity came to assist in a married couples camp over a long weekend. The camp was inspired by other successful weekend retreats to build stronger marriages within the church. Although it was summer, the bookings we very high.

My role was to coordinate the basic arrangements and to ensure the provisions were adequate and available whenever the guests were in need. Also, counselling couples if needed.

We were on a property far away from the nearest city, so far the city lights failed to obscure the billions of start in the sky at night. Cabins were spread all over the property for couples to be private. There was a main building that was a central meeting area and further out at the edge of the property a cabin for me to stay, away from the rest of the group.

While it was a restful place, I was kept busy from dawn until late evening. I didn’t mind, it took my mind off all the unanswered questions I have.

Late in the afternoon we lost the only power supply to the camp. Two of the husbands and myself diagnosed that the generators gearbox had failed, metal fragments from a twisted pinion rendering the generator useless. We were heading into Sunday night, it was hot and humid, no lights, no air conditioning and no power to cook food.

Both the men and women pulled together early in the evening to set up a fire and cook up the remaining food. We ate, we cleaned up, talked, laughed and eventually headed to our cabins for our last night there.

It was hot, very hot. The only light in the sky were the stars and a dim crescent moon. Although I was tired, I couldn’t sleep. I opened up the windows and the large sliding door. The cabin had one room, a kitchenette, a bed and fortunately a bath so after laying uncomfortably in the bed for an hour, I ran a bath and lay in the cool water.

It wasn’t long before I heard footsteps heading toward my cabin. I was the furthest from the camp and more isolated than everyone else. Surprised, as the footsteps arrived at the fly screen door I called out, hello? Too dim to see who it was, the person confidently walk in, closed the fly screen door and whispered ....shhhh. I had no idea who it was but from the aroma and the tender way I was calmed me with a ‘shush’ I knew it was a woman. She walked up to me, kissed my forehead, then as I asked who it was, she put one finger on my lips and softly said shhhh.

Was I dreaming? This woman was so very tender. I had no idea who she was but I wanted her to stay. I thought, if only this bath we bigger, she could join me. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to be with someone.

She walked over to the kitchenette and brought a chair back to the bath, placed it beside the bath, facing me. She touched my forehead, my cheek and my lips. She leaned it and kissed my lips, so tenderly that any apprehension I held escaped me right there.

I didn’t want to know who she was or what she looked like. Somehow, she knew what I needed and I was not about to stop her. Not knowing what to expect next, she stood up from her chair, it was too dark to see, I could just make out her silhouette. Out of her pocket she pulled a joint, lit it, drew in a breath of jane and passed it to me. Unpredictability, instantly I accepted and took a drag then we shared until finished. I’ve no idea how but that shit stripped away any defence I could have raised to put an end to the night, but it did.

While I lay in the bath, she knelt down, placed her hand on my chest, feeling every breath of my lungs before her hand lowered down to my stomach then onto my balls. Tenderly rolling them around in her fingers followed by gripping my freshly hard cock. Her strokes were slow and meaningful, at the top of each stroke her thumb would pass over my tip. I reach my hand to touch her through her clothing. At first she resisted, I need to do this she whispered. I just need to do this. She seemed to lack any inhibition. Through her top I could feel how soft her breast was, natural and soft. Her nipples already hard, I gripped her breast hard enough for her to know I wanted her to be totally aroused, massaging and evoking a deep passion within her. With her beautiful strokes, I realised that I’d gone from wanting this night to be over to now hoping it would last forever.

She kissed me again, deeply, then whispered ‘let’s swap’!

I stood up from the bath as she stepped in, fully clothed. Before lowering herself down she kissed me on the cheek and then whispered ‘Adrian, fuck my face!’

Overwhelmed, my cock was so hard it ached. It felt like the skin was stretched so tight I felt pain.

She lowered herself into the bath until her head was under water then bounced straight up to take my cock in her mouth. Sitting up in the bath, her mouth at the perfect height. I had a feeling of power over her. She started slow with every minute it seemed she was getting deeper and deeper. A million thoughts running through my mind when suddenly I had an epiphany. This wasn’t a gift, this was something she needed. A need to fulfil the submissive slut trapped within her. Unable to be brave enough to get satisfaction at home she picks me, someone she’ll never see again. But her need gives way to what I want, the fuck toy to release the anger within me, my hatred for the situation I am in, the cum held within me is a poison I need to be released from. I took ahold of her hair tight and thrusted my cock deep in her mouth so hard she exhaled with a moan. The vibration of her voice box felt on my cock. It felt so empowering and satisfying, I trusted again even harder, finally I had found my want, my lustful selfish desire, to scull fuck this cheating whore until I was free of this poison. Hammering into her mouth it had escaped me to consider how she could breath. Pushing against my grip she released her mouth to gasp some air but in true whore fashion, she quickly clamped her mouth over my cock, taking it deep yet again. The power I held over this woman grew as I held each side of her head a fucked her mouth furiously until the poison within me engulfed my entire body as my cock spewed it’s cum deep in her throat. Like a steam hammer pounding into flesh my cock pumped every drop. She wouldn’t let go so quickly, she held on until I was dry and the tip of my cock too sensitive to touch. She collapsed back into the bath tub as I stumbled to the bed, exhausted.

I looked over toward her, too dark to see I heard the noise of the water as her fingers were fucking herself. Within 30 seconds she came with loud moans. Her fantasy complete, she lay next to me until at some point during the night, she left to return to be with her husband. I still have no idea who she was but she forever altered my direction in life and the endless possibilities in opportunities within each church.

#scullfuck #cabin #evangelical #church #churchlife

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written-in-flowers · 5 years

Text

Bite, Fuck and Play: Pt. 8

“I don’t want to waste my time. Become another casualty of society. I’ll never fall in line, become another victim of your conformity and back down.” - Sum 41 “Fat Lip”

Pairing: ReaderxChangkyun, WonhoxHyungwon

Genre: Angst, Smut/ Vampire!AU/ BTS crossover

Summary: “I’m sick of The King’s shit. Fuck authority, let’s go hunt.” Here’s a glimpse into the rogue coven that defied the one person they shouldn’t have.

Disclaimers: Bisexual!Reader, blood and Violence, recreational drug use, major character death.

A/N: I really want to thank @softjeon and @cassiavioletblue for letting me make an AU of their AU. If you haven’t read “Love Bite”, I highly recommend checking it out on softjeon’s m.list. It’s fantastic!

Part 1 in my m.list

***

The place lit up like fireworks. The audience moved as one, pushing and shoving and rocking against one another. A sea of unique, special people filled the place with their booze and cigarettes. Other substances definitely floated around the room; you sensed it in their bodies as you went past. The place electrified you; you bounced, crashed and sang along to songs you’d never heard. Your eyes stayed on the stage where the band played on and on. You recalled the glamorous parties the mansion always hosted; Claudius enjoyed ballroom dancing and fine dining. He’d have hated this. He’d hate the sweat, the loud music, and the colorful people around him. It wasn’t his scene. You’d embraced it, laughing and smiling with Minhyuk who danced with you. You saw Kihyun in deep discussion with a tall man in a trilby hat, passing a joint between them. Drugs didn’t affect vampires like humans; the same with drinking. Their tolerance for it surprised you. Personally, you’d be throwing it up right away.

The band eventually left the stage so another group can take over. You’d posted yourself by the side of the room by Hyungwon, who discussed toxic masculinity affecting the punk rock scene with another friend. Your eyes met Changkyun’s instantly, but before you said anything two girls cornered him.

“You guys did great!” Hyungwon cheered, hugging each of the members. “Everyone is talking about you! You might end up trending!”

“Ugh, I don’t care about that shit,” Shownu waved a hand, taking a drink from Minhyuk’s tray of shots. “A bunch of wannabes only coming to gawk at us. Nobody cares about the music anymore, man. It’s all about looks.” He immediately went into a rant the “intellectuals” listened on.

You looked to Minhyuk with a raised eyebrow. “He gets like that whenever SHE shows up,” he nodded to a pink-streaked haired girl watching him from afar. “Trixie. She’s as trashy as her name and she’s crazy about Shownu. Just wait. She’ll come over here.”

You saw Changkyun with the groupies. They giggled at his jokes and told him how great he was. You wished for a moment you didn’t have heightened hearing.

“You were really great up there,” a girl with cropped blonde hair said. “The way you get so into the music and they way you play is super hot.”

“Um, thanks.” He truly amazed you on stage.

“I absolutely love your song ‘Through Glass’!” another sporting purple hair told him. “Your voice is amazing. You should totally sing more.” You’ll admit you’d enjoyed his deep, smooth voice. It drew you in like a flame; it sounded so soulful and passionate.

“You’re so awesome!”

You instantly wanted to rip out their throats. You heard their accelerated heartbeats; saw their pupils get wider in their interest. The purple haired girl offered to buy him a drink, but he passed on it. Newborns shouldn’t drink alcohol so soon after turning. You told him it’ll make him violently ill. You saw how their eyes ate him up. Their false compliments made you sick. Kihyuns’ friend came up to you as you gazed on, offering you a hit. You took it without thinking, accustomed to the thick smoke filling your lungs. You tried focusing on a conversation rather than Changkyun and his groupies. He’s at perfect liberty to be with whoever he likes; it’s not your business. The two girls touched his arms, batted their eyes and smiled. He’ll kill them. If they lured him away from the group, they’ll end up torn apart. Newborns aren’t able to control their hunger as well as their elders. Considering the situation, the last thing you needed was The Court having another reason to investigate. Yes. That’s it. That’s the reason your claws dug into the wooden table seeing the blonde getting closer to him. That’s the reason your blood boiled. You’re worried about the investigation. Not him and the two groupies.

“So what’d you think?” Jooheon came beside you, sipping a beer. “About the set?”

“Great,” you forced yourself away from Changkyun and his prospective dinner. “Wonderful, actually. I’ve seen lots of bands come and go, and you guys are definitely up top. How come you haven’t been signed yet?”

Your praised lit up his face. “Oh, we’ve been trying. It’s why Hyungwon always blows us up on Twitter. That’s how it works now; not like in the old days when you gave mixtapes and hoped someone liked it enough.”

“Old days? When?”

“1987,” he smiled before taking another drink, “CBGB, baby.”

“You played there?” you said surprised.

“Nah, I wish. My band played the dive bars and hole-in-the-wall places. Things are different now. If you stir up enough popularity, clubs ask you to play. Kihyun and Hyungwon figure if we gain enough fans, we would rarely be booking anymore.”

You tried not glancing to Changkyun, but Jooheon caught you. “He’s not like that,” he said, but then added, “Okay, he’s a little like that. Do you blame him though? What would you do if you had hot girls all over you?”

You sighed defeatedly, “I’d fuck them.”

“Exactly.” He gave a wicked grin, putting down his beer. “Wanna tick him off a little?”

You eyed him, “Maybe...”

It happened in a flash. Jooheon crashed his lips into yours, the taste of beer on his tongue. Gently cupping your jaw with one hand, the other slipped into your hair keeping you close. In any other situation, you’d push him away. But Jooheon’s lips drew you in, his tongue slowly rolling with yours. Your back pushed into the wall and you melted in his hands. Your center suddenly warmed up and your hands ran up his chest to his neck where you kept him still. Suddenly, you wanted his hands all over you. You ached for his touch and taste; for him to fill you.

“Emotional transference?” you smiled, your forehead pressed on his.

“Yup,” he grinned, laughing along with you. “Great for meals,” he pecked your lips again, “And for fucking. Makes it more intense.”

He recaptured your lips. He rounded the small table and your thighs parted for him. The entire world fell away as you lost yourself into his kiss. It honestly meant nothing. Nothing you did ever meant anything. Even if you did screw Jooheon, it’d be a one-time thing. If he’s good enough, maybe more than once. The band on the stage began playing another song that strengthened Jooheon. He took hold of your thighs, spreading and squeezing them. Both of you grew hotter in the crowded atmosphere; the sensation you shared creeping on both of you like a mist. Neither of you cared about the people glancing your way or the others cheering and teasing. There’d been a time where your kind made love in the open. You’d bite and scratch each other, growling and snarling as your bodies humped one another. But when Hoseok forced vampires into hiding, any sort of vampiric displays were forbidden.

He even tried stopping people from fucking.

“He’s furious,” Jooheon chuckled between kisses, his hands going just beneath your shirt.

You felt it too. “You outta stop, little boy,” you smirked, “He’s a newborn. He might just lose himself again.”

He scoffed, “I want him to try. It’ll give me an excuse to train him. Wonho won’t let me.”

Exactly like Andris. His mouth left your lips for your collarbone, nipping gently with his fangs. The slight pinches forced a growl and you did the same back. The poison in his fangs heightened the euphoria inside you. His fingers began fumbling with your belt buckle so yours did the same. He’d become rock hard in the few minutes you’d both kissed and grinded together. Your body came to life in his hands, slowly rocking towards the cock twitching against your thigh. Jooheon let out a small moan, but then you both heard footsteps thump your way.

“Here he comes,” you kissed Jooheon again. There are better ways to provoke Changkyun into a fight, but you certainly didn’t mind this one.

“Jooheon…” he started off quietly, standing a foot away from you. “Can we talk?”

Both you and Jooheon grinned widely at one another. Jooheon then said, “Can it wait? I’m kinda busy.”

“It’s important.”

“Not as important as this,” he licked the blood dripping from your collarbone and kissed you. Your eyes met Changkyun’s. For the briefest moment, your heart dropped seeing him so upset. You suddenly felt foolish.

“Jooheon, I mean it.”

“And I mean this.” His anger was growing; you both felt it. Jealousy is a powerful emotion. “Go talk to the groupies over there. They’ll love your attention.”

Changkyun’s hand dug into Jooheon’s shoulder, forcing him to turn around. Jooheon did not protest or looked shocked. In fact, he appeared amused. “Aww, what’s wrong, Changkyunie? Mad because I’m gonna screw your girlfriend? You know, jealousy isn’t healthy,” he taunted.

Changkyun clenched his fists. He glanced over to you, his jealousy mixing with his pain. You’d been childish. All because you’d seen him talking to other girls when he’s not even yours. You buckled yourself up, then stood in front of him. “You don’t own me,” you said, “And I don’t own you. You’re allowed to be with whoever you want and I can do the same.”

“I-I know,” he grunted, keeping his eyes on Jooheon, “But I know why he’s doing it. He wants me to fight him when Wonho said he couldn’t.”

Jooheon walked closer to him, “I just wanna see if you’re still a pussy or if you’ve actually manned up.” The challenge hung in the air, but would Changkyun take the bait? “I’m all over your girl-”

“-Excuse me?-”

“-Aren’t you mad?” Jooheon gently poked his shoulder. “I know how you feel about her. I can tell whenever you’re around her. Doesn’t it bother you somebody else might claim her for themselves?”

“Nobody is fucking claiming me!”

Jooheon poked him again, the boy gradually growing angrier. “Come on, big man,” he came closer while Changkyun backed away. “Do something. I’m right here.” He pushed him once more, “If you wanna be a big badass vampire to impress her, let’s go. Now’s your chance.”

“Jooheon! Changkyun!” Shownu stalked over, immediately getting in between them. Compared to thin Changkyun and lean Jooheon, Shownu was a beast. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I wanna see if turning him was worth it,” said Jooheon. “He’s been a little bitch this entire time! He’s gotta learn to defend himself one way or another.”

“Not here,” Shownu’s eyes narrowed. “Anywhere but here.”

When Jooheon reached to prod Changkyun again, the younger grabbed the hand and held it tightly. “Then outside it is,” Changkyun growled, throwing Jooheon’s hand, grabbing him by the shirt and taking him through a back door.

You and the others followed them outside. Changkyun became deaf to Shownu’s warnings and Minhyuk’s words of caution. This was definitely not one of your better ideas. You should’ve known; you’d seen it so many times before.

“Men…”

****

Jooheon took it too far. He’d teased Changkyun plenty of times, but it’d been brotherly. This was not. He knew how Jooheon felt about him not feeding right away; how Changkyun walked away from fights rather than attack. If it’d been him at the beach party, he’d have beaten the frat guy to a pulp. Changkyun would show him. He pushed the elder into a back alley. The scent of hot garbage in the humid air nearly choked him. He managed his senses much better now, but it crept on him if he let go. Jooheon didn’t make things easier. He showed absolutely no fear; in fact, he jeered and japed. Changkyun growled at him in a way he’d never done. It’d been a deep, low growl that came from a primitive side of him. The pair circled one another in the damp alley, ignoring commands from their elder. The tension grew too high to ignore it now.

“Jooheon,” Shownu called out, getting close to him, “There’s better places to do this. We can’t do this here.”

“What better time than now?” Jooheon hardly spared Shownu a glance. “It won’t take long either,” he sneered at Changkyun, “I’ll be back to the best part of my nig-”

SLAM! Changkyun’s fist sailed right across Jooheon’s cheek. Shownu held Changkyun back, but the newborn easily pushed the man away. Jooheon chuckled, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Changkyun made to hit him again, but Jooheon caught his fist and twisted his arm until his whole body turned around.

“What do you do now?” Jooheon asked, all taunting out of his voice. “I have your arm pinned to your back. What do you do?”

Changkyun did what he always did. His free elbow jabbed at Jooheon’s side hard; the hit released him from Jooheon’s grasp and he swiped long claws at him. “You go for the face too much,” said Jooheon, cupping a bloody cheek, “There’s other parts you gotta worry about. Like this.” He gave Changkyun a swift kick that tripped him to the ground. Standing over him, he said, “You have to pay attention to more than the face. Everyone goes for it. Get up.” When he stood again, “Try and block me.”

“Wha-wha-”

Jooheon hit him without warning, “Block me!” He sent a strike to Changkyun’s abdomen. “Come on! Block! Don’t you know how?!”

He staggered a bit from the hits, but he won’t back down now. He’d show them. He’d show you that he’s not a helpless baby. Changkyun lifted both arms over his face to block Jooheon’s blows, but then the older said, “You gotta hit me back at some point! And I’m being easy on you! Whoever Court sends won’t be!”

He grabbed one of Jooheon’s oncoming hands, crushing it in his own and pushing him back. Jooheon nodded, “There you go! Come at me!”

Changkyun dealt him back a hit to the ribcage. His new strength put ten times more power behind it. Jooheon blocked the next one by catching his wrist between both arms and pushing it away before giving his own swing back. Changkyun dodged it by a few inches. The pair circled one another again when Jooheon hit him again, once, twice, three times in his abdomen, chest and cheek. His head began swimming from the pain before a part of him snapped. He didn’t know what happened or where it came from, but Jooheon put up his fists for the attack.

Claws slashed through clothes and skin. Fangs sunk into necks and shoulders. Growling and snarling filled the alley way over the sounds of cheering. Blood filled his mouth, a sickly lead taste Changkyun gagged on, and it stuck under his new claws. He punched a bloody fist into Jooheon’s nose and ribs. He kicked Jooheon square in the chest, sending the man back a few feet and ran towards him. He will tear him apart. Flashes of you and Jooheon together drove him wild. He knew he didn’t own you, but the sight of you with someone else...He towered over him before an arm went around his waist. Shownu easily lifted him, carrying him away.

“That’s enough!” the powerful voice of Wonho rung throughout the alley. Shirt slightly askew, and hair tousled, they’d clearly interrupted something important. He helped a woozy Jooheon to the ground, but then gave a hard shove. “What are you doing?”

“A bit of training, that’s all.”

“Training?” Wonho stepped over to him, “Changkyun is a baby. He could’ve ripped your insides out!” he looked between them both, “Inside. Now. Both of you.”

“But Wonho-” Changkyun struggled against Shownu’s strong arms.

“I said ‘now’!” he demanded. “Before I kick the shit out of each of you myself!” he walked away mumbling something about “...like animals” and “...can’t get a decent fuck anymore”.

Hyungwon typically went after him, and the others followed obediently. Only you, Changkyun, and Jooheon remained outside. You glanced to each of them before telling a growling Changkyun, “I’m nobody’s girl or mate or anything. I’m allowed to be with who I want.”

“You did it because you saw me with those girls,” he grunted, wiping blood from his face. He was covered from neck to chest. His wounds already began healing as well as Jooheon’s. “You weren’t going to honestly screw him.”

“How would you know? We were pretty close to it.” You pushed him, “Next time forget what I’m doing and focus on yourself.”

He shoved you back, “Then you should do the same!”

“You had two perfectly good meals standing-”

“-I.M.! I.M.!”

The two girls burst out through the back door, smiling widely when they saw him. However they faded once they saw the blood on his shirt and hands. He recalled how they’d practically thrown themselves on him inside. They would’ve hopped into his pants if he’d let them; a part of him wanted to until he saw you and Jooheon. You, Changkyun and Jooheon came closer together, grinning at the two girls. Their instincts told them to flee. He felt fear coursing in their veins like blood. They must taste wonderful. It clogged up his nose and stayed with him. That primal urge came back; it made him feel dizzy.

“Hey ladies,” he walked closer, Jooheon following him closely. “Do you still want to see our dressing room?”

They might’ve gotten away if you hadn’t blocked their way inside. Jooheon grabbed the blond, clapping a hand over her mouth and muffling her screams. He wasted no time in biting her neck; his claws dug into her skin which only produced more blood. You pushed the purple haired girl into Changkyun’s arms, putting them behind her back as she attempted kicking him. He let you have her first, sinking your teeth into her flesh before he joined you. His eyes found yours in the middle of her throat. Deep crimson rung around your irises that brought out their natural hue. He took in how your lips caressed the girl’s skin as if easing her into the poison filling her veins now. He did the same. He watched and copied what you did, which you allowed. He wanted you again. He wanted to tear your top apart, kiss and nibble over your neck and breasts before tugging down your pants and underwear. He couldn’t help imagining your sweet moans and the way you’d tremble under him. Then he remembered you with Jooheon and his heart cracked in two. If it meant nothing with Jooheon, it’ll certainly mean nothing with him.

Once both girls were drained dry, the group chucked them into a large dumpster. You left for the club again while he and Jooheon cleaned up in the bathroom.

“Hey,” Jooheon said, turning on a faucet, “No hard feelings?”

Changkyun studied him. This was Jooheon’s way: fight you but then extend a hand after. Changkyun took it, “Not at all.”

Jooheon looked him over once, “You need to know how to fight.”

“I do, thanks.”

“Not the way we do. Whoever you fight will be just as powerful as you if not more,” he wiped a damp paper towel over the blood smeared over him. “They’re not going to be bums on the street or your drunk stepdad-”

“-Mom’s boyfriend-” he removed his white shirt that had been stained with blood. He’d be going without one tonight.

“-Whatever,” Jooheon dismissed. “They’re fast. They’re smart and they’ve been doing it longer than you. You did good towards the end, though. You would’ve killed me if Wonho and Shownu hadn’t appeared.”

“I…” he wiped off blood from his skin, “I lost control. I can’t lose control every time.”

“You can certainly tap into it if you wanted.” He then smirked, “Just think about Y/N fucking someone else whenever you fight.”

He said nothing to this. “She’s allowed to do what she wants with whoever. It’s not my business.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be a teeny bit jealous about it.” When they both finished up, he said, “Just tell her how you feel if you actually feel anything. I mean, you hardly know her, dude.”

“I know. It’s just...I feel different around her.” He didn’t feel like such a loser. “It doesn’t matter anyways. She doesn’t care. She’s too hung up on whoever she was with before to notice anyone else.”

He held back the bit of anger inside him. The selfish part wondered why you held onto someone who’d died so long ago.They’re gone. They’re never coming back no matter how badly you missed them. Yet, the understanding part of him sympathized with you. He’d left home three years ago and he still missed his mother. But death is different than walking away. “Let’s get fucked up...or pretend to anyways.”

Jooheon laughed and followed him out.

*****

Tag list: @kyriolkyun @amisha25 @clareisa @softjeon @queenm0thra

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Next Chapter: Pt. 9

#monsta x #monsta x fanfic #i.m. x reader #i.m. monsta x #jooheon monsta x #hyungwon monsta x #wonho monsta x #shownu monsta x #minhyuk monsta x #kihyun monsta x #lee jooheon #lee minhyuk #lee wonho #son shownu #yoo kihyun #chae hungwon #im changkyun #hyungwon x wonho

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joonipertree · 4 years

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Between Smoke and Troye Sivan Songs (there’s love)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader x Yoongi

Summary: You, Hoseok and Yoongi getting high and making out while listening to Troye Sivan because Troye Sivan songs are the songs you listen to when you're getting high.

(This is gender neutral for all my guys and nonbinary pals..if there's a mistake and misgendering then let me know please)

Words: 3.9k

Tags: Use of hash, characters being High, making out, fluff, things get hot and steamy.

(this is on AO3 as well)

It was late, it was always late when you decided to ask your boyfriends the same question every 2 months or so.

“Can we?”

It was always your job to get the joints, to ask your friends who asked their friends and roll it up for you and get high with you, even though you were never allowed to get high outside of what you and your boyfriends did. But Yoongi never finds out about it, or never says anything at least.

It was his rule, that they could only smoke every 2 months in the safety of their own home. He wasn’t necessarily against it but you understood his thought process, they were idols and them doing it even once every two months was risky. That and the fact that smoking was bad for you and also the fact that both you and him had mental health issues that could worsen with being under the influence of things like weed or hash, for that matter.

Often times what the three of you used was hash, especially in 2014 and 2015 when all of you were too broke for weed, weed was expensive. Hoseok was the one who normally paid for it now, since he owned watches worth 70k. It was ridiculous and they were ridiculous for buying expensive shit for you but it was always soft things, like sweaters and matching necklaces that none of you ever took off.

Hoseok was the one to check the time, eyes heavy lidded as he smiled in an emotionally exhausted way. Going on tour took a toll on both of them and it was no surprise when Yoongi and Hoseok came home and attached themselves to you for dear life.

Yoongi never said it but he was clingy as fuck and loved the attention. The only time it showed was when they were high or he was too tired to care.

You were currently on his lap, face buried into his neck with his hand through your hair as you purred quietly.

“Yeah okay, it’s been a little more than 2 months too and my shoulders hurt from the tension. I might break.”

Hoseok earned a glare from the eldest. You were obviously the youngest of the three, only by a year off of Hoseok though.

“Use it for recreational purposes, not as a coping mechanism Hob-ah.”

That’s what the man said but both of his partners knew that if he were to do it right now, it was to help him loosen up after the pressure of being the perfect person constantly in the view of cameras and thousands of people.

You didn’t say much, pointing at the pastel coloured bag that was bought from Paris by the ever loving Hoseok. It was most likely a thousand dollars, maybe even more but you didn’t think about it now. Yoongi had gotten you speakers and a digital camera since you had gotten into photography again and your old camera was practically dead.

Hoseok was the one to lean forward and grab it, letting you rummage through it before taking out a small box that had both your lighter and joints in them.

You had three in total. But one was always shared at a time which was something you rather liked.

“This whole place is gonna smell gross for a few days.” Hoseok said with a wrinkled nose. The place was indeed their apartment that they were planning on staying in for the next few days to hang out and exist besides one another.

“It’s better than doing outside and getting photographed and our careers ruined.” Yoongi said in a matter of fact tone and it all but made you feel guilty. You got them into this position and he was right, it was a risk. They were risking their whole careers on it.

But then again, both men were adults and had a right to their bodies and what they do with their time. They knew the consequences and took precautions and had rules. They weren’t stupid and if either of them wanted to stop they would, they were old enough to know when to say no.

“Can we just do it, please.” Hoseok groaned, “ high Yoongi is so much more chill.”

Yoongi smacked his leg at that.

“Ooh, I’ll get the new speakers you got me.” You said before kissing him on the cheek as a thank you and running to get the item from your bedroom.

“Music is important for the ambiance.” You spoke while coming back, shaking the speaker in your hand.

Hoseok and Yoongi rolled their eyes, having heard that a dozen times.

They agreed though.

You connected it to your phone and decided on your Troye Sivan playlist.

The first song being Youth.

It played soothingly as you sat back on Yoongi’s lap and held the lighter near the joint.

“Don’t light it while you’re on my lap. Don’t want ashes on me.” The man grimaced but smiled at your pout, letting you kiss his soft marshmallow lips before you got off of him and sat between the two rappers.

You lit it and took the first drag, the bitter taste overwhelming you as you waited for the smoke to cool down before inhaling it into your lungs.Your throat burned.

Releasing a puff of smoke, you handed the joint to Hoseok and let him take a long drag, a hand on your thigh that moved up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Ease was playing in the background.

Hoseok had you on his lap, eyes starry and mouth on you neck as he marked it over and over again. You would let out soft moans, head hazy but clear and slow. It was always running, your mind. It was always thinking and making shit up and just doing and doing and doing. It finally wasn’t. It was finally silent and compliant and you giggled at the relief you had from the world.

Hoseok giggled against your neck as well, heart shaped smile pressed against your skin.

The bubble around the three of you was in smoke, you staring at your boyfriends with a look of awe as the dimly lit room made them look dark and otherworldly, with their expression relaxed and sensual.

Sensual.

What a funny word.

“Baby.” Yoongi mumbled from besides you, his eyes droopy and dark.

You turned your head to find him move in close to you before kissing you. His marshmallow lips against your own. His big hands holding yours. And you swore to god, they never felt bigger. They engulfed you and made you feel small. And you were small, compared to the both of them. You were their baby, their little angel. You were theirs as they were yours and all three of you ate that up and kept it warm in your chest.

Seventeen started to play.

Hoseok took the lighter and relit the joint, now the second one, before inhaling it and sighing in relief as he looked at the ceiling. His neck was exposed then and you couldn’t help but have the urge to bite and suck on it so that’s what you did,

He chuckled and patted your head as you did, not looking away from the ceiling.

Soon, Hobi’s vision was impaired by cat like eyes and all he could think about was how Yoongi would be a panther if anything. And if he was a deer, Hoseok would gladly let Yoongi eat him.

As the older moved closer, Hoseok moaned softly as you sucked on a particularly sensitive place on his neck.

All Yoongi could see was a dazed look and an open mouth that looked pretty and warm. He leaned in and gave it a soft kiss, before deepening it and tasting the smoke on his tongue and feeling lightheaded and good. He felt so so good. Good and ever present and needy for more.

They stayed like that, Hoseok letting his tongue come into Yoongi’s mouth, sucking on his boyfriend’s lower lip and giggling softly at the way you gave his neck kitten licks.

Yoongi lost his balance at one point, not having the sense of mind to keep himself straight, but he simply slid back into his place and rested his cheek on Hobi’s shoulder while looking at you devour his neck.

Yoongi laughed at that, an airy sound that made both yours and Hoseok’s heart stutter.

“Yoongi-yah~” You whined, wiggling in Hoseok’s lap causing the man to give a tiny and not so hard spank on your butt.

“Yes, love?” Yoongi answered while soothing the place where Hobi very lightly slapped.

“I wan’- wanna kiss.” Your lisp showed loud and clear and both your boyfriends melted at it.

Bite began to play.

Yoongi did as you asked, moving forward wobbly as he gazed at you with nothing but open affection. And it hit differently then for some reason, maybe because you were high or because you only really noticed that stare in special moments. Hoseok said that Yoongi would always look at you like that. They both would.

The gaze made you even more needy so you whimpered and whined.

“Kissies.” You said while making grabby hands at him.

The kiss was wet and tasted like hash and it felt good and warm and fuzzy.

You let out tiny sounds, small and cute and it only increased when Hoseok began playing with your chest, hand under your shirt as his thumb ran over your nipple.

“Baby angel.” Yoongi mumbled against your lips.

“You-yours.” You whispered, arching your back against Hoseok’s hand. Big. Big. Both of them were so Big and you were so tiny and it made you wanna burrow yourself between them.

Your hips began to move, rubbing against Hoseok’s thigh. It sparked waves of pleasure into your body, blinding you through the fogginess in your head.

“Want us, huh?” Hoseok asked, jaw sticking out as his eyes darkened, “want both of us? Want us to ruin you, hm?”

You nodded,

Hoseok stayed still, chuckling lowly and not responding.

Fucking tease.

He lit the joint again, holding it between his middle and index finger before holding it in front of Yoongi’s lips. The man took a drag from it and you pawed at his chest, eyes wide and glassy as you asked in a small voice.

“Want.”

Yoongi took a hold of your chin, opened your mouth with his thumb and kissed you deep, pushing the smoke into your mouth and into your lungs. A puff of grey air exited from your nose, shrouding the man’s face with it. You had kept your eyes slightly open just to see it happen.

It’s then that you felt arms enclosed around you and felt Yoongi press closer against you.

Hoseok was hugging both of you at the same time, face pressed against Yoongi’s shoulder before he started to mumble out a river of words. It was slow, his words were slow and drawn out. It was either him or you because everything around you was slow and relaxed and easy.

“I love you guys, I love you guys so so much. You make me so happy. Like a lot. I don’t know what my life would be without either of you. What the fuck are these emotions, I love you. I hope we always stay together and get married. Somehow. I dunno. Everything is so heteronormative.”

Hoseok was not really one for words. He would hug and give a lot of kisses, he was affectionate in that tone but words were something he stayed away from unless he was saying I love you and even those I love yous were precious and well articulated and full of emphasis. They weren’t thrown around lightly.

It seemed that the ache of the tour and the people and the constant hustle finally got to him. He finally cracked.

You guys sat like that for quite some time, pressed up against each other until Hoseok got hungry. You stumbled off his lap and nearly fell on Yoongi as the man got up and went to the kitchen.

“Do we have shrimp chips? I want that. Ooooh, we have fried chicken too. Who brought fried chicken? Oh yeah, I did. Okay so...okay.”

Yoongi lit the butt of the joint again, inhaling it before holding it out and letting you have some. You held onto his wrist while you did so, feeling like a baby being fed their milk.

Hoseok staggered back to the couch, using his leg to put distance between his partners’ legs so they could move and he could sit in the middle.

“Here we are~”

He placed the food on the table clumsily, snatching the bag of chips and munching on its contents. You moved forward and took the chicken, Yoongi followed.

It was quiet for a while, the only sound being the three people on the couch eating fried chicken and shrimp chips in the middle of an expensive apartment while high and sleepy and the music playing from the speakers.

Yoongi only ate a few chicken pieces before he promptly fell to the side with his hands between his legs. You giggled, there was a lot of that throughout.

Dance to this began playing and both Hosoek and you wiggled in your seats and got up in excitement. Yoongi groaned in dismay but looked at the two of you with fond eyes as you began dancing goofily. You weren’t a dancer, not at all and compared to Hoseok, it looked like you could barely walk but it didn’t matter. Hobi was just as goofy, pop and locking with no sense of rhythm whatsoever.

Hoseok then took your hand and started spinning both of you around, you shrieking in joy and surprise before running around in circles with him. You two bumped hips, causing you to almost fall on the floor. You two tried to pick each other up. Hobi succeeded but you failed miserably. He spun you around like that, while carrying you and laughing. You two smiled and giggled and shouted. You two sloppily sang along to the words with no coordination. You two. You two. You two. While the third looked fondly over you, his cheeks pressed against the couch cushion, eyes almost closed.

DKLA had begun to play but you had skipped to your phone after being pulled from having Hoseok sweep you off your feet. You rummaged through the playlist before grinning and playing a certain song.

Just Dance.

Hosoek had practically yelled and began singing it in a trot voice instantly. You joined him, moving your hands around and moving from one leg to the other.

When a certain verse came, Hoseok looked directly at you and began singing in a deep voice, changing the lyrics.

“You’re my perfect baby.

My whole world, baby.

A small little baby

Don’t know what else to say, baby.”

By this point you were on the floor, cackling and hitting your thigh hard from your uncontrolled laughter.

Seesaw was the next song and both of you squealed.

Hoseok began singing it loudly, causing Yoongi to cover his ears but he still looked, smiling and smiling and never stopping his gums from showing.

You did the choreo and it was almost perfect considering how many times you’ve seen him do it.

Hoseok began doing the dance as well, much better than you but still as ridiculous.

The song was shrieked and both of you began spinning around, not bothering to urge Yoongi to get up because that never worked out before anyways.

You practically smacked Hobi in the face at one point but that didn’t stop you from seesawing. While seesawing, Hoseok accidently bumped into you and you went flying to the floor.

“Oh fuck, sorry baby.” Hobi said but he was laughing, heart shaped smile out in full force.

You began laughing, loud and bold and free.

You only paused when giggling was heard.

But it wasn’t coming from you or Hoseok or from outside, which would be creepy cause you lived high up, it was coming from a singular Min Yoongi (another Min Yoongi being there would be concerning. If you, the reader, sees two Min Yoongis or even one Min Yoongi then please be concerned because Min Yoongi cannot be with you in the first place).

Both of you stared at him, watching his eyes stay screwed shut as his nose wrinkled and his gums showed. Soft tinkling laughter could be heard coming from his mouth and it was certain that he was giggling.

He was smiling the whole time they were fucking around really, a big grin that was unrestrained and honest and so real. It was bright and shining and anyone would fall in love with it. WIth him.

They fell in love with him every time he smiled. And he smiled a lot because of them.

What a great day to be alive.

Hoseok was the one to launch himself onto the poor unsuspecting man. You got up from the floor and proceeded to do the same. The two of you covered his face in kisses, giggling along with him as he kicked his feet and became even louder. The two of you showered the third in kisses, finally feeling at peace. Feeling like a whole.

You were practically on top of him, squishing him and all Yoongi did was laugh and try to kiss you two back but you guys were too quick and sneaky. It was rather sloppy though, some kisses landing on his eyebrow or the corner of his nose or his hairline. But it was okay since every part of his face deserved love.

You stopped when Hobi’s nose bumped against yours.

You two sat up holding your nose in pain, Yoongi letting out peels of unforgettable laughter that had him holding his stomach.

Hoseok and you looked at each other before resuming your attack on him.

It was five minutes later that all three of you calmed down, still in a haze and very exhausted at this point.

“Bed.” Yoongi mumbled, being the most exhausted, having taken out his energy in giggling in glee and how much their kisses tickled.

You were the one to crawl up and start walking with weak knees. When you saw that neither of your boyfriends were standing, you pulled at both of their arms and almost fell back because of it. To prevent any accidents, Hoseok stood up, rubbing his eyes and yawning while pulling Yoongi along with him. The oldest was practically asleep at this point but he didn’t forget to take the lighter and the last joint to their room as they trudged towards it.

You could all sleep and have wonderful, ash filled dreams but your favourite part of these types of nights were the lazy talks that happened while taking slow drags from the last joint of the 2 months. They were your favourite because of the conversations that followed lying in a bed and smoking away the remnants of your stresses.

It had been a while, the three of you talking about random things, smoking and singing along to the songs on your phone. The speakers had been forgotten.

Bloom played.

“I’m a bit scared.” Yoongi had whispered, giving the stick to Hoseok.

Hoseok murmured back a “me too.”

You were in the middle of the both of them, eyes wide and glassy with your mouth parted slightly. You were a bit out of it, leaning against Yoongi’s shoulder when you heard his words. He patted the side of your head.

“It’s just that. We’re so big now. BTS is so big now.” He moved his hands apart to make his point, becoming more expressive with his body.

“But we’re so-we’re so small. And I’m scared that people will find out how small and insignificant we are. We’re just tryna make music but what if it doesn’t reach the expectations of others?”

Hoseok looked shocked for a second, holding up his hand.

“Same, Hyung.”

Yoongi gave him a high five.

“Well,” you murmured, still very much in a trance, “ you guys do make good music and work hard. And you’re significant. You help people feel better and make them accept themselves and feel more comfortable about being human. You guys are important.”

Hoseok and Yoongi sighed from next to you, leaning against you to make a sandwich of sorts.

“I’m just scared. Always. Of losing you two. Cause you’re so big and I’m so small. You make a difference in other people’s lives and I-I don’t. You matter and change others and I’m just me, being one of the people you change. How you’ve stayed with me for so many years is beyond me.”

Hoseok kissed the top of your head and Yoongi laced his fingers with your own.

“You make a difference in our lives. You matter to us. And you’re special and sweet and cute and adorable and just...you’re you.” Yoongi muttered.

Hoseok nodded along to his words and you were emotional, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Cute and adorable mean the same thing.” You laughed wetly.

“Do they? I don’t know, man. I’m too high for this. I’m too sleepy.”

Hoseok held up the joint in front of your mouth and you let him hold it as you took another smoke.

“Do you ever- do you ever feel like we would be together in another universe.”

“Probably. Maybe you’re a fan in one of those universes.”

“That’s possible. I’ll still matter though, right?”

“Well jesus christ, obviously. You’re a person, you matter with or without us.”

You giggled, leaning forward and kissing his cheek.

“I’d be the best fan for you.”

“You better be.”

Hoseok was even more out of it then you were at this point, he finally put the burnt out stub in the ashtray next to the bed and sunk down to lay down on the bed properly.

You and Yoongi followed.

Heaven began playing.

You spoke more, about everything and anything and nothing. About fears and your childhood and your love for each other. Along with that, came soft slow kisses.

And what a perfect way to exist. To exist between the two men you love, high and listening to Troye Sivan.

Ths songs kept changing

From For Him to Lost Boy to Happy Little Pill to Talk Me down that sobered the environment and caused the three of you to have a serious conversation about mental health and heartache and dark thoughts. There was Wild and I’m so tired and Fools and There for you.

It was perfect. To be in between smoke and Troye Sivan songs and slow kisses and giggles and deep conversations and lame jokes and to find that there’s love there. The most perfect kind of love.

With time, your words became slurred and low. All three of you were exhausted at that point, eyes slowly falling closed as your hush murmurs turned into incoherent mumbling. Hoseok kissed your forehead softly and Yoongi put an arm around your waist. They both moved close to you, legs becoming tangled.

There were very soft and almost indecipherable ‘I love you’s said by them that were swimming in your mind as dreams overtook you.

Strawberries and cigarettes was playing and before the song could end, all three of you were fast asleep.

And love was still there, in between your shared breathes and soft snores.

#bts #bts fic #bangtan #jimin #Taehyung #Jungkook #Hoseok #suga #Yoongi #jhope #RM #Namjoon #Jin #v #bts fluff

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drowsy-quill · 5 years

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Okay I know its Sunday but like I was in a bad mental health day yesterday and forgot to queue it up on Friday so here is your belated Saturday Snippet! This is the full second part because I had no idea where to cut it off so here’s the full thing! It’s called ‘The Crow Prince’

Total Words Written: 6,626

Words Remaining: 5,374

The Crow Prince

As days bled into weeks, and weeks bled into months and months turned to years, Gwenivere poured herself into her studies. She read through nearly every text in the Scroll room, and devoured any information she could find about the gods of old. She was now at the cusp of girlhood and womanhood, teetering on the edge of maturity. She knew that the temple she had visited years before was most likely that of the Wild Mother, one of the oldest gods of her world, the patron of mothers and motherhood, of animals, of nature and life itself.The thought of having a deity like that watching over her, caring about her, gave Gwenivere a sense of joyful contentment. Gwenivere also waited in anticipation for that next fate-tug to pull at her core and lead her to the next temple.

Her mother never noticed she had stopped going to school, her violent outbursts replaced by vacant indifference, of cold unfeeling and unseeing stares. Gwenivere did her best to not come home when her mother was awake. The Bookkeeper, Tanin, as they had finally told Gwenivere, became more of a parent than either of her’s ever were, tending to her with a fondness Gwenivere had never known. Gwenivere oft found herself eating her evening meals with Tanin and their husband, Alwyn, who loved talking about his research and the translation of ancient texts. He called Gwenivere his prodigy as he taught her the legends of peoples long lost, the legends of the gods.

It was at one of these lessons, sprawled out in the ancient texts, books strewn about, that Gwenivere felt the tug once more. It was so strong, so insistent that she nearly doubled over in pain. At her silent cry the Alwyn came to her side, telling her that they could end the lessons early if she needed. She nodded furiously, nearly forgetting the bag of texts Alwyn had given her to take home. And so she rushed through the cobblestone streets to her home, flying up the stairs into her bedroom and pulled out her hidden bag of supplies, wrapping the ashen cloak from the Wild Mother securely around her.

She was pulled northward, outside of the bounds of the city and towards the sharp and cold mountain peaks that rose in the distance. It was to be a three days journey, and she felt a new presence with her, twineing with the matronly presence of the Wild Mother. This one felt, familiar- more so than anything else. It felt like home, not of her own home, nor that of that of Tanin and Alwyn. It was the feeling of a home she once knew, one she had before any other. And one she would have long after everything had past.

This new presence wrapped around her like a warm cloak, safe and secure. She knew she should feel cautious in the wilds between the mountains and her copper city of Machina. The valley was a swampland, with the bones of ancient cypress trees standing stark against the rich earthy browns and greens. She, although unable to physically speak one, sent a quick prayer to the Wild Mother for safe passage, and another to whichever deity she was being drawn towards. She could feel the warm embrace of the Wild Mother as she finished her prayers, and could feel her steps lightening and the ground becoming near solid under her feet. She smiled and nodded her thanks and continued on.

It wasn’t until the sun had dipped far below the mountain peaks on the first day, and Gwenivere could no longer deny the weariness in her bones. She bedded down right where the mountain began to overtake the swamp, taking care to set camp inside of a cave-like alcove in the stone. That night Gwenivere was blessed with a dreamless slumber, waking to the distant caw of crows in the warm light of dawn.

She ate rather quickly, feeling the warmth of the Wild Mother’s blessing wrap around her once more, along with the gentle presence of the unknown deity like a hand holding hers. She broke camp, making sure to wrap her hands and slippers with spare strips of cloth she kept in her pack and began to climb. She was by all means not a natural athlete, all skinny angles and willowy limbs, but the Wild Mother and the quiet soothing hand lent her strength and a cool breeze as she continued.

There was a path, she realized, but it seemed long since buried from years of rockslides and no one to tend to it. She made note as she rested on one of the larger stones for a midday meal to attempt to clear at least a little of the debris from it, enough for a narrow path for herself to traverse.

And she began to climb once more, this time clambering over the boulder and stone-laden path instead of attempting to scale the side once more. She found the temple before sunset, two cyprus trees filled with fluttering and cawing crows and ravens flanked the columned opening. With a smile, she realized to whom this temple was dedicated to… The Crow Prince, she mouthed, and immediately that gentle warm presence had a name, and it was stronger. It was… familiar. It had a name, one that she spoke in her raspy, broken voice without a second thought- Illdan. She had read of the gods’ true names, how few knew them, how it was a sign of absolute trust. She did not know why she knew it, but she did.

Gwenivere was a quiet child, even before the attack on her home left her near totally silent, so the casual slip of that single name startled her. But she felt a warm, rumbling voice in the back of her head whispering that ‘It is alright, your voice may be heard in these walls.” It wrapped around her, that presence of Illdan, of the Crow Prince, making her voice stronger and easing the fear and torment in her mind- putting her more at peace than the Wild Mother had in her temple so many years ago.

She made quick work of lighting the hearth, and soon she was scrubbing away at the centuries of muck and what one really should expect from the murder of crows that made their home there. Unlike the first time, the temple did not restore itself under the warm glow of the lit hearth. She sighed, knowing that she would have to work for several more days, and was thankful that she over packed with food for the journey.

She managed to clear out one of the alcoves and got to work with scrubbing the central dais where the hearth sat. By the warm light of the hearth, she made her camp, feeling secure enough to fall into a deep, deep sleep. She was, however, rudely awoken in the dim dawn light by a crow cawing right in her ear. She stuck her tongue out at the crow and ate a small breakfast of dried fruit and a hearty loaf of bread, making sure to break off some for the crow. She laughed her squawking laugh as it hopped right into her lap and scarfed the piece down, and looked up at her with almost expectant eyes.

Gwenivere took one last chunk for herself and broke the rest up for her new friend, carefully picking him up from her lap and setting him on the ground. As she stood, she found a shimmering red hair ribbon fluttering to the ground. She smiled and bent to pick it up, braiding it through her long mousy hair. As she continued her cleaning, the crow decided that he would perch on her shoulder throughout her day.

As she worked, she found herself humming- what the melody was she did not know, but it seemed to bring more life into the temple. She also found herself talking to the crow, reveling in the catharsis of being able to speak and laugh without any barrier from her inner self.

She was there for only a few days, but those were days that she would cherish for the rest of her rich life. They were full of long-forgotten lullabies sung by her father, laughter mixing with the cawing of crows, the utter peace and protection of The Crow Prince's temple. It was like for the first time, Gwenivere had truly found herself. Not that partial self she was with Tanin and Alwen, and most certainly not that shell of a girl she is around her mother. She was Gwenivere, the girl with the voice of a crow and embers at her fingertips, the girl whose feet retread and forged ancient paths, the girl who was blessed by Fate herself. And it was good- but it could not last forever. As the temple shined in the dawning light, Gwenivere sighed to herself and packed up the little nest of sorts she had formed within the comfort of its walls.

The crow that had been her steadfast companion had one last gift to bestow upon her- it was a head wreath composed of lavender and sage, and it invoked the same serenity and contentment as the temple itself invoked within her, along with a single feather plucked from its wing-with witch she most happily tucked behind her ear, securing it with the head wreath. She smiled and placed a kiss upon the crown of the crow's head and wrapped her cloak around herself before taking one last look, one last utterance of gratitude before turning and leaving down the same path from which she came from. Although, instead of the perilous boulder and debris laden path, it was clear and lined with lavender and sage. He was compassionate enough to do this himself, she supposed with a barely contained smile.

The journey back home was much smoother than the journey to, it felt almost as if she was flying. She was grateful for that, at least. It gave her more room in her mind to prepare herself for whatever her mother's reaction would be. Gwenivere did not know what would hurt more, the lightning hot rage of her childhood, or the current apathy of her mother. She just hoped Tanin and Alwen were not going to be cross with her, but the joint comfort of The Wild Mother and Illdan wrapped around her, soothing her worries.

When she returned back to the city, she stopped first at the library, where Tanin greeted her with a tight hug and a kiss to the crown of her head. Alwen ruffled her hair and playfully scolded her for skipping out on a week of lessons. When they asked if she would be returning to their home for dinner she nodded with a bright smile before walking to the edge of the city where her own home sat. Her happy mood deflated, and she rubbed the crow either for comfort before stowing it in her bag, along with the head wreath.

She took a steeling breath before turning the knob, the door creaking its welcome as she stepped inside. Her mother was sitting on her rocking chair, barely even moving. She did not acknowledge her daughter's return in any way, her hands manipulating the knitting needles of bone that her father had gifted to her without thought. Her eternally long blanket stretching across the room. Gwenivere tiptoed to her yarn basket, making sure that her mother was not running low on skeins.

She walked to the upper floor, where her own chambers were. She lit the small fireplace to warm up her bath water and unpacked her bag. She held the head wreath close to her heart and inhaled its calming scent. She stripped off her dusty and honestly filthy travel clothes and slipped into her warm bath. She took care in methodically scrubbing her skin clean, along with cleansing her hair before re-braiding it behind her back. She stepped out and dried herself, tossing the bathwater out her window and into the garden below.

She dressed quickly, and before she left she paused for a moment and braided the crow feather into her hair before making her way to Tanin's house. It was a cozy abode, overstuffed with scrolls and manuscripts and tomes, and it always smelled like paper and ink. Dinner was lovely, and Gwenivere found herself smiling even more so than she ever did in their presence before her journey to the temple. Her fingers running soothingly over the feather.

After, Alwen took her to his study and gifted her a tome, telling her to read as much as she could that night so they could discuss it in the morning. It was a children's book of sorts, written in both the common language and in a language that Gwenivere did not recognize, but it sang to her very core. The story itself was not that interesting, it was a story of how the world was created- a tale she was already quite familiar with, but as she quietly attempted to sound out the second language by candlelight it felt correct in a way she had not realized.

When she left for her lessons the next morning, tome in hand, along with the other books she had been loaned she made sure the leftover food she had brought back from Tanin's home had been eaten. And she nodded contently as she notitced the cloth with crumbs strewn over it and her mother still slumbering in her chair.

As she walked the familiar cobblestone streets to the Library, she noticed a small crow hopping along the rooftops parallel with her. She smiled at it and held her hand open for it to perch there as she walked. It obliged her and clumsily flew down to her. She scratched the top of the fledglings head and continued on- oblivious to the stares and shocked whispers of the occasional passersby.

Machina, at its core, was a superstitious city, still rooted in old maid's tales. One of which was that of the crows, one who was marked as having the crow's favor would bring death and bad luck to anyone they came in contact with. And it was even more worrying that poor dead Vince's silent and odd daughter was the one chosen.

Gwenivere did not know this, nor did she really care. She had decided that the fletching's name would be Deirdre and had become fast friends with the bird. She left it at the entrance to the Library with the promise of returning with some food after her lessons.

She gave Tanin a hug as she passed their desk and made her way to the ancient texts room to meet Alwen, who was already elbows deep in tomes. She smiled at him and gladly handed over the books. They started the lesson quickly, going over the structure of that ancient language, one, Alwen said, is spoken by the gods themselves. It was a language so old that it did not have a name. He was pleased that she seemed to have a natural talent for it, unlike the other languages he had tried to teach her. He was also doubly pleased that it seemed that the inhibited speech she had in the common language did not seem to transfer over to the Language of Ancients.

Gwenivere reveled in the taste of this new language, it felt as if she was made to speak in this tongue. The day flew by faster than anything else, Tanin had to pry both their husband and Gwenivere from the room to eat their midday meal, but Gwenivere's body thanked them for that. She left with a stack of tomes that nearly did not fit in her arms, and, with the aide of this new language, she asked Tanin for an extra bit of bread for her new crow friend. Deirdre accompanied her home, scarfing down the bread as she perched at the top of the book stack.

And that was the routine for the next few weeks, and as the whispers became more and more apparent, not even Gwenivere could deny their existence. Even those who had never spoken to them beforehand spoke about their concerns to Alwen and Tanin, although the couple was quick to tell them off. Gwenivere had already made up her mind a month and a quarter after her return from the Crow Prince's temple. She was to leave Machina soon, she had already packed everything up and just needed to say her goodbyes.

It was at dinner when she told Tanin and Alwen, they understood her, and her reasons, and wished her a tearful farewell. Tanin slipped her a small pouch of gold to aide her. She left the next morning following a pull towards the east, leaving a token of the Ancient Scholar outside of the door to the Library.

Deirdre, now nearly full grown, perched on her shoulder as Gwenivere made her way towards the rising sun, and a new chapter of her journey.

Thanks for reading and I’ll see you next week! Happy trails xo Nikki

#The Temple Seeker #Saturday Snippits #my work #My writing #writeblr #original writing

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