#like i know they only are alive to fuck but they’re big and gross looking and fly rip

[leisure]

i’m sad i can’t walk to work for a month until the cicadas die lmao 😭

[boo-trekking]

Romulan Wedding Traditions: a headcanon ramble

I’m back again with a half baked Romulan take. I think they’re weddings probably still has some similarities to the Koon-ut-kal-if-fee. Except instead of duking it out on the hot sands of a dessert planet with the champion picked by your fiancé, it’s a little more complicated.

First off Romulus is described to be “a lush, humid world abundant with vegetation and large bodies of water”

So I’m thinking swamps and jungles (a Romulan on a fan boat makes my brain go brrrrrrr), where it’s easy to hide and challenging to hunt.

So on your wedding day no matter what your fiancé will present you with a challenge and that challenge is to hunt someone that they’ve picked but you don’t know who, and you bring them back to the specifications of your fiancé. So if they want them alive, you might just tie them up, but if they want them dead you might have to bring back their head or something. A real challenge is when they say dead or alive.

And then the trick of it is that the person they choose is someone you could really want dead, but you know your fiancé wants alive, like for example the fiancé’s ex. Do you show your fiancé how brutal you are by bringing back the head of the one who may have stood in your way, or do you hog tie the son of a bitch and pout about it? Either way it sets the tone for the marriage.

Also it’s not really guaranteed that you’d bring them back alive if asked, because traditionally you are meant to kill the one your fiancée picks, but more modern sentiments have made way for change.

So if your fiancé sends you after her father and asks that he not die, you only really have to bring him back. If you’re polite, you’ll say that he slipped and drowned and you weren’t able to revive him and everyone will look the other way at the strangulation marks on his neck. Or if you really are cruel you will bring him back and shoot him dead in front of your fiancé. And either way you are getting married.

The only way to get out of a marriage is to not bring back the one the fiancé picked. So let’s say you have the entire 25 hour cycle of the day to get this person. You could decide just to camp out, or miss your shot and if you can avoid finding the person and comeback empty handed then no marriage.

Or on the fiancé’s end they could request someone too hard to get/someone that doesn’t exist. I like to think it used to be in fashion to request someone who was dead. Until some dude who was really in love with his fiancé decided to say fuck it and broke in the family crypt and carefully exhumed and carried his fiancé great grandmother to the ceremony. Everyone’s horrified and a little grossed out (because the ggma had been dead long enough for decomposition to start), but the fiancé is laughing so hard.

Because she actually did want her great grandmother there, they were very close. She didn’t want to marry this guy cause she just didn’t want to get married yet, she was nervous. But here’s this guy who is lovingly cradling her ggma in his arms. He literally brought the only person who would’ve soothed her into this. And she gladly married him, and they immediately bring the ggma back, and then the trend falls out of fashion cause ew wtf.

It’s also a big deal to be the one the fiancé picks. I would call it an honor but you could possibly die so. It’s considered a big social faux pas to refuse to be the one hunted out right but there are ways to get out of it if you feel like you might die. Some people take on an extra stint of military service (not that it’s voluntary, but maybe they’ll be taking on a tour they could’ve sat out of idk), some others claim they are trying for a child (this is really popular among single women who are suspected to be a lover to the one who hunts, real tongue and cheek shit), but sometimes the only thing that will work is to change your name.

The way picking works is you have to present the persons name. Because there is so much secrecy in Romulan culture, names are really tricky, so maybe the name given is just your common name and you decide to be a stickler and insist on the full four names in order for you to be the hunted. Or maybe you go to your family and ask to change your name there as to throw off the picker.

But it is a little awkward if the picker is your brother and you know he wants you dead so that when your father dies he will be head of the house instead of you, the oldest. And you know his fiancé would kill you even if your brother said they didn’t have to, because the fiancé is the youngest in their family and they have twelve siblings to get through before it’s their turn. So helping their fiancé become head of their family is just a smart move. Lucky for you your dad saw this years ago and already changed your family name, but waited until your brother already picked your full old name so now he has to pick someone else. He’ll pick the father out of spite, but the fiancé won’t kill him. After all, your dad used to be his commanding officer, it wouldn’t feel right.

It’s the hunted’s duty to make the hunt difficult, even if they know they’ll live at the end of it. So they’ll set traps and sneak around. I like to think that Romulan’s have houses similar to Klingons, and those houses have their own variations on the traditional ceremony. So maybe the hunted must hide in a particular place based on their house tradition, or they must throw the hunter off with a certain system.

I can imagine a house who often picks children to be hunted, that way it doubles as a test for the child’s skills. So maybe the fiancé very sweetly gives her little sister a present and asks her to be the hunted. And this 13 year old kid is absolutely STOKED to give her brother in law hell. So not only does she hide, but she starts counter hunting him. And he DIDN’T PLAN FOR THAT. So right when he’s looking at the barrel of a Romulan cross bow, beaten and bloodied by a kid who still sleeps with a night light, he’s fully accepted he’ll be the first in history to be killed and brought back. She looks at him and says something like “When you marry my sister…may I live in your house? I…don’t want to be without her.” And he says yes without hesitation because his fiancé already asked if it was okay, and he’s grown up knowing the little sister too and knows that it’s not the best for her at home (without much detail, Romulan secrets you know), and this kid just drops the crossbow and starts crying because she was really worried she was gonna lose her sister! And so he lightly bounds her hands, they make it back to the ceremony. Folks are congratulating her for giving him hell but snickering at the number this tween did to that guys face! All in all it works out, they are married and the sister moves in with them, and when it’s her turn to marry she kindly asks her niece…who has been trained from birth to return the favor.

Overall I feel that Romulans are just so complex and secretive, that a freaky (affectionate) marriage challenge feels right up their alley. They aren’t governed by logic, but by secrecy and deadly hide and seek feels right.

[alilbitlesbian]

Third time's the charm (common denominators) DLC

One of my readers on AO3 asked a description of a room the other day, and then I offered to describe more, and then I wrote too much so,,, here we are?

For anyone who doesn't have the context of my fic; GN!Reader-insert (Dove) is Adam's third wife (made for him ooo) and got stuck In hell during the season finale, this is just a few rooms from that story described in detail.

Story's called "Third time's the charm (common denominators)" and you can find it on ao3.

@alovesongtheywrote here you are! <3

Adam’s office

imma describe it like Dove’s investigating it

The office is pretty barebones, there are no pictures, no personal touches, really, it looks like it could belong to anyone. There’s a grand, bow-front oak desk in the centre of the room, and a few mainly empty bookshelves. 

(Personally, you know exactly why Adam has a bow-front desk, he loves public stuff, and he loves blowjobs, so– Ugh, actually, let’s not think about that right now.)

There’s a desktop computer on the desk, though it’s mounted so it can easily be pushed and pulled around to see over the desk for meetings and such. You round it and open the drawers on the right side, only to find them empty aside from some menial office supplies, a perforator and such.. That, well, that can’t be right, you take a closer look, and–

Yeah, that’s more like it. 

It’s a false bottom, in the hidden compartment of the drawer, there’s a vibrator and three different fleshlights, you vaguely recognize them from when Adam was in this phase and kept leaving the items around the house. He was so obsessed. “Oh! These are made from the moulds of real people, yeah, real human ass! Yeah, this is from a porn star named Chris- Hey hey, don’t look at me like that, bitch, it’s not gay– it’s THE best fucking ass possible, okay, shut the FUCK up!” 

You know far too much about them, he would rant for hours and hours how the insides were made to give different textures, and– Oh, yeah, you recognize that big one, you use a pen to turn it over, it was made to ‘help train stamina’, it worked fine, which was the problem. Ugh, you thought he’d gotten rid of these.

Closing the drawer back up, you move to look at his desk, there’s a shit ton of trash on his desk, next to a pile of files he had to go through- You still have no idea what he does in his office, but you think he doesn’t, either. You recognize one of the beer cans, and huff.

That’s another fleshlight, you recognize it, because he used to keep it in the fridge, until you figured out what it was and made him get rid of it. You think he gave up on the incognito sex toys in different places, but seems he just moved them to his work, gross.

His computer is brand new, there’s several games with anime girls as the icons, one called ‘Yandere simulator’.. What’s that? Eh, whatever, unimportant.

The left drawer has a few personal affects,  a miniature guitaraxe you got him for his birthday once, several pictures of you, him and/or Lyre. And a few of him and Lute, there’s also a collection of pictures he took during an extermination once, with the three of you absolutely drenched in blood.

There’s a dog bed in the corner, sometimes he takes Lyre to work, ‘Liar’ is embroidered onto the front of the bed, and there’s a small basket of different dog toys, and a hook with a spiked dog collar and studded leash hung off of it, right above the bed.

There is a row of dead cacti on the windowsill, you’re pretty sure Emily keeps giving them to him, the one furthest right is still alive, the one furthest left is the most dead one, they seem to all die of different things, though. One is rotting away (it smells), another is dried down to a raisin, one smells overwhelmingly of alcohol.. This one’s got all of it’s spikes cut out? There’s tweezers next to it and a neat pile of the spikes, jesus christ Adam, what? Another has a tiny collection of swords stabbed through it.

Actually tiny, they’re small swords, okay? You have no idea where he got them.

Moving on from that, there’s—Well, the rest of the place is pretty barren, there’s some panties you don’t recognize halfway under a bookshelf, but what else is new? You huff, having found nothing very interesting, and leave the room, noting that there is no lock on the door.

Again, gross, Adam.

Dove’s hotel room

(Before the return with Lute)

“Should we… I don’t know, empty it out?” Charlie’s hand settles on Vaggie’s shoulder, the fallen angel huffs, shoulders falling.

She’s probably been standing, looking into Dove’s old room, for a little too long.

“I don’t want to.” She murmurs lowly, Charlie smiles, but Vaggie looks away.

“Then we won’t.” Her girlfriend assures, Vaggie nods slowly, glancing around the room.

“I’d like to be alone, for a while, if that’s okay.” Charlie nods, pressing a quick kiss against Vaggie’s cheek. Her hands settle on her girlfriend’s shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze before she pulls away.

“Of course, Vaggie, I’ll be downstairs if you need me, okay?” Vaggie nods mutely, and Charlie leaves.

Vaggie squares her shoulders, then enters the room, shutting the door behind her.

Dove’s room is… A mess, really, there’s a bluetooth speaker on the nightstand, it is on, though it chimes every few seconds that it has a low battery. There’s a clock, but it’s several hours behind. The floor is littered with dirty clothes, and there are dishes around the room, though, they are oddly all clean of food residue.

There are cans of.. Mace? On the floor? All empty, it’s not like it’s a few of them either.

Vaggie confiscates the cigarettes she finds.

The bed has a single plush duck at the centre of the pillows. The pillows themselves are more set up like a nest than in a row by the headboard, which Vaggie vaguely remembers is one of Dove’s habits. There are three different TVs around the room, not a single one is fully off, one has a screensaver of ducklings in water for some reason, and another is playing ‘funniest murder videos’, again, blissfully, the volume is down.

Vaggie sighs, and turns off anything electronic she can find, she plugs the speaker into a charger. Then finds all three of the TV remotes and sets them on top of the nightstand (they are all incompatible with the other two TVs, but look exactly the same. Thank you, Dove.)

Looking around the room for anything else that should be dealt with before she.. Well, locks the room up for the foreseeable future, she’s kind of confused by her findings.

Food items, or even sex toys, is what she expects to find, that was a really weird thing with Dove. For some reason, the angel had a thing with keeping sex toys in the worst places possible. Vaggie would assume they were Adam’s if Dove weren’t so adamant they were theirs.

Weird.

But none of that was there, if anything, aside from the weirdly obnoxious TVs, and, for some reason, a mini-fridge, the room was kind of…

Bittersweet.

There was a pet bed under one of the windows, full of a certain cat’s black hair, but much bigger than necessary to be intended for Keekee, distinctly the size of a certain dog. As an extra punch in the gut, there’s a small shopping bag with a few necessities, toys, a collar and leash, and food. There’s a bowl set up to the side, it’s topped off with fresh water for Keekee.

There’s a desk, though it’s been buried under trash–or, well, it’s been buried under.. Stuff, new stuff, the most of it, like Dove has been going on a buying (or shoplifting) spree. There’s also a simple potted plant that blooms with Lilac flowers, Lute distinctly remembers Emily having one that looks like it.

She moves on, passing the walk-in closet, and the bathroom looks oddly untouched aside from some golden stains in the sink. There’s also a towel crumpled on the ground, it too, is covered in bloodstains. It’s long dry, the blood appearing brown and the cloth looks like it’d crunch if Vaggie tried to unfold it.

When did Dove get hurt? She… She can’t really think of a time.

She closes the bathroom door, she’ll ask Charlie to throw away the towel, she was sure Alastor would try to eat it or something, and that was frankly freaky when it’s her parent’s blood.

Continuing down the room, there’s a few leafy red plants in the windowsill that Vaggie thinks used to stand in other places in the hotel. The rest of the surface seems clear, aside from grime, and Vaggie almost passes by, but…

There’s a pile of pictures on the dusty windowsill, packed in a folder from some shop in hell that apparently printed them. The pictures were obviously well-loved, and frequently visited, by the smudged dust around the pile.

Vaggie sits down on the bed with the pictures and sorts through them.

She quickly figures that these are all images that were on Dove’s phone, there are.. A lot of them, she sets them in little piles, a few of the pictures are of Liar, but a lot of them are…

Candids?

She didn’t know a lot of these existed, it was a little odd, really, to see herself like this. It was just.. Domestic moments, most of them. One of her asleep in a pile with a few of the other exorcists and Lute. One of her and the others all drinking, with Dove’s face halfway in the frame in what was intended to be a selfie. 

Also a lot of.. Lute.

A surprising amount, really.

Lute and Dove at a fair, with a seal plush between them (though Lute looked wholly unamused), the two of them with Liar, and many of them just..

Well.

Asleep? Cuddling? A lot of Lute, asleep, curled up in increasingly strange positions or situations. Vaggie had seen Dove take these sometimes, always with the excuse of ‘blackmail’, but…

She’s pretty sure the wing in the one she holds is Dove, Lute’s asleep ontop of Dove’s wing. That on it’s own could be fine but–

There’s a lot like that, a lot that seem oddly intimate, Vaggie shakes her head.

Dove is literally created to love men, and nothing else, Vaggie’s just reading into it too much. Lute never seemed close to them anyway.

She puts the pictures back, and stands, there’s a few loose feathers about, a few are white, but that’s not too strange, sometimes down was lighter than the normal feathers. What is strange is that there is an engraved money clip on the floor, with a few spare hundred dollars in it.

Vaggie hesitates, that’s hell’s currency, not heaven’s. How did Dove even–

She picks it up, reads what’s engraved.

Ah.

What the fuck.

LM.

…Christ, Dove, did you really steal from my father-in-law…?

She sighs, glancing one last time around the room, she unplugs some electronics (not the minifridge) and then locks the room behind her, intent to find Charlie to.. Find a way to return this without (rightfully) pissing off Lucifer.

[mostspecialgirl]

Insiders (2023) - redrawn from 2019

(rambling under the cut)

thank you tumblr for compressing my image down to disgusting crusty poop pixels on the app

i love to do a new big reference piece for my babies every few years, and the time has finally come due… and WOW !!! LOOK AT THAT IMPROVEMENT !!! everyone looks Normal And Alive and Non Bugeyed !!! everyone is a little less pasty white (im talking about you, tanith) !!! i think they all show a lil bit of nice personality in their faces now too which is lovely for me. i love to see my children happy. now to write about each of them

angelo’s line art has the least effort into it here and i was GONNA redraw him but honestly if anyone is going to look like a scrunkly little bug IT IS GOING TO BE HIM !!!!!! It’s been a minute since i’ve drawn his body-saws and on a whim i made them red AND !!! IT WORKS !!! I’M A FAN !!! i think he’s due for a main-outfit change though. not sure. i struggled with finding him a natural-looking skin color too because i’ve slowly made him as a person less undead-corpse-like and i think i’ve found a good spot. for now.

i pulled the perfect angora out of my mind and honestly i am shocked at what i have created. she looks so sweet and kind and innocent here (as she should) that to any unfamiliar observers you’d be hard pressed to tell she’s a big lazy gross vulgar piece of shit rat of a fishwoman. and that is EXACTLY how it should be. i have lost the plot for too long, giving her more sharp edges and a hunched back and wild expressions, but the standard angora really should be deceptively pretty. because that’s my girl.

Mila looks great as always. What more can I say? She’s always perfect. I had fun giving her lips for the first time!

AMPH … MY ADISHESHA … (slamming my fist down) I’ve finally perfected him… isn’t he pretty? isn’t he so pretty? I chose to draw him in his naga/incarnated form instead of the shadow form this time because i wasn’t lazy. I decided to throw a big coat on him, originally intended to be more lab coat-y, but influenced by how fucking cold it is outside i allowed myself to give him a big fur collared one. because if you can’t tell i love giving characters though. i think it worked out well for AMPH here, and now I have to be putting him in all sorts of cowls and capes until the end of time.

TANITH !!!!!!!! GGGGYRRRRAAAAHHHHH!!!! LOOK AT MY GIRL !!!!!!! I’M FERAL OVER THIS!!!!!! LOOK AT MY IMPROVEMENT !!!!!!! it’s been a hot minute since i’ve colored her, but i changed her palette in my mind a while ago AND looking at it here ? existing ? i’ve done it again. My lovely little sword daughter … i know i JUST doodled her but christ something was in the water here because SHE LOOKS SO GOOD. this is the best ive drawn any of them. i gave her some nice clothes this time instead of her usual big t-shirt because i realized i only gave her that in the past because i didn’t know how to draw clothes.

speaking of “best ive ever drawn any of them” somnus … THIS IS HIM … i’ve gotten close to capturing him in all the times i’ve drawn him but i think i’ve finally pinned him down here. and of course, he’s hitting the same pose as his wife because they’re cute like that. i ripped his colors straight from the solo reference piece i made for him a while back which has held up quite wonderfully.

FINALLY !!! SETH IS HERE !!! HE HAS ARRIVED IN PROPER INSIDERS GROUP ART !!! he looks pretty good here. i think he could still look BETTER, but for the purpose of having a nice group reference piece he looks pretty great i think. I struggled pinning down some colors for his clothes and was pretty lazy with the Purple Under His Hair That Glows BUT WHO CARES !!!! LOOKS GOOD TO ME !!! LOOK AT MY HANDSOME SON !!! i also decided to stick his full name on here that i’ve kept vaulted up for the reason that i’ve never had to put it anywhere before. if you know why he has “-zoe adamiel” as his chosen full name, congrats, you’re a huge fucking nerd.

eventually, i’m probably going to tack daisy, kane, sampi and demiurge onto the right side of this piece, but that’s for another day down the line. thanks for reading!

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Parings; Jason Todd x Female Reader (1) Pride and Prejudice and Hair (2) Seven-Eleven Karens and Pinky Promises at 3 AM

3- Google and Hand Holding

Jason didn’t know what the fuck he was looking for, but Google said that a relationship that lasted a month should be celebrated and he wanted to get you a present. With his hood up on his sweatshirt, he walked down the aisles of Barnes and Noble. God, did you even want a fucking book? He liked books, but what if you only sort of liked them? Thinking back on the year he had known you before dating, you had always kept him updated on the latest book you read. 

So, maybe a book wouldn’t be a bad idea, but which one? You liked so many different genres, and he didn’t know your favorite. The moment he realized that he felt horrible. What kind of boyfriend didn’t know his own girlfriend’s favorite book genre? 

Giving up on the books he moved on to the journals, planners, and pens. You journaled, he had seen you do it before, and used planners. He looked at all the options. Witch planners, zodiac journals, sparkly pens. Fuck, there was so much. Jason stared at the selection until nothing looked like a good choice again and he gave up. 

As he was heading toward the exit, cursing himself as he did so, when his eyes landed on a set of pens. There were three pens in a package that had little Robin symbols on them, and, without a second thought, he picked them up to check out. 

When he carried the bag out to the parking lot, Jason wondered if it would be enough. Pens weren’t exactly the best gift for a one-month anniversary. What if you thought that the gift was cheap? No, you weren’t the type to worry about that stuff, he told himself. 

Though, just in case, he got you a dozen roses, too. 

Jason hesitated before he knocked on your apartment door. Before anxiety could eat him alive you opened up. 

“Oh, Jason,” You grinned as he handed you the roses, moving inside doing so. “These are lovely.” 

You rushed to the kitchen to put them in a vase. Jason followed. “I love them, Jaybeans. I really do. They’re perfect.”

He could feel the heat spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Awkwardly, Jason then held out a small, pink glittery bag toward you. You gave him a questioning look before taking it, almost hesitant. 

“For our one-month anniversary,” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Well, sort of a month.”

You paused opening the gift, putting a hand over your mouth, speechless. Guilt consumed you because you had nothing to give Jason in return. Honestly, you hadn’t thought you two would celebrate a month of being together, but, maybe you should have? You questioned everything you had done for a moment. Jason’s worried face was what made you snap back to reality. 

“Jason, I’m so sorry,” You sucked in a breath, a bit embarrassed. “I didn’t get you anything. I didn’t know…”

“That’s okay. You don’t need to,” He hadn’t meant for the words to come out so quickly. “Heh, maybe I should have run it by you, too. The whole one-month anniversary thing, I mean. It doesn’t matter. Open it.”

You did as told, reaching into the bag to pull out the pens. Jason watched as you snorted then a full string of heavenly laughter sprung from you. 

“I love these, my darling,” You reached out to grab his hand, but stopped right when your fingers brushed. Jason would have let you grab his hand, you knew that, but that wasn’t worth overstepping. 

Jason reached forward before you could mumble out an apology. His fingers only lightly touched yours, asking for permission, before you took his hand entirely. Like the rest of him, Jason’s hands were warm and big, and you reveled in the feeling of being able to touch him like that. Skin to skin with no glove in the way. 

He knew he would love the feeling of your soft skin against his, but the anxiety that it felt gross worried him. At least, it did for a second until he saw your smile. It was wider than the one you gave when opening the gifts or receiving the roses, and you could help but look between him and your hands. Yeah, he thought, touching you was definitely the best gift he could get.  

[navegandoaciegas]

1-2-3 Way

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader x Steve Rogers

Warnings: smut, bed sharing, there was only one bed???, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, dom!Steve, sub!reader, switch!Bucky, unprotected sex, praise, slight degradation, overstimulation, face fucking, fingering, slight spanking, edging, doggy style, aftercare.

Summary: There’s only one bed and you have to share it with your childhood friends Steve and Bucky.

A/N: Listen… there was only one bed is my favorite cheesy trope, I’m sorry. Thank you for the commission, @maryfloat , I hope you like this!!

It’s so clichè, the way that the receptionist offers you a tight lipped smile and an apology. There must have been an error with the reservation, maybe the server crashed or something, she says, you’ve booked one room, and that room has one bed only. Coincidentally, everyone’s in town at the same time as you, and the only hotel in the area is fully booked.

How unfortunate.

She hands you the keys whilst Bucky hauls your suitcase and his up the stairs, and Steve follows behind him. She eyes them warily and whispers to you, asks if you’re safe and comfortable, and apologises again for the inconvenience.

When Steve, ever the gentleman, proposes they sleep on the floor, you’re almost tempted to accept and thank him. They’re big and strong, and one night on the cold, hard floor won’t kill them.

You hate sharing beds anyways. It gets too warm with more than one body rolling around, and then someone hogs all the blankets, or kicks you in the shins, or elbows you in the ribs, and you can’t catch a break.

Instead you scoff and wave him dismissively. ‘I trust you guys more than I trust myself.’

And you do, really. You’ve known them since those awkward middle school days, where Bucky was chubby and covered in painful acne, and Steve was dangerously skinny and a foot shorter than you. You’ve fallen asleep on their shoulders on long road trips, occasionally napped on their legs in their dorm rooms, fallen asleep on Steve’s hospital bed when he was a frail kid and you and Bucky took turns visiting him.

You trust them, you really do, but still, sharing a tiny bed with them seems more intimate, definitely more wrong, than anything you’ve ever done.

It sends a weird signal down your stomach that your brain can’t quite interpret. You’re not anxious, but as you sit sandwiched between them, you can’t say you’re relaxed either.

Bucky sits to your right, computer perched on his lap, open on the Netflix account he pays for and Steve and you leech off of. He makes the most money with his waitressing job, the old ladies love tipping him for his flirty remarks and bright smiles, so it’s only fair.

Steve munches on a chalky protein bar to your right, a frown on his forehead as he chews with his mouth open and judges Bucky’s recommended section.

“You’re not making me watch another sci-fi, Barnes.”

“And you’re not forcing me through another Studio Ghibli movie, Rogers.”

“C’mon, at least those are relaxing-,”, “and cute,” you quip, intercepting Steve’s snack and taking a bite out of it just to spite him. He side eyes you, pinching your side as hard as he can.

“Oh? I forgot you were the ones paying for the account.”

“This is literal blackmail, holding the damn Netflix over our heads like that.”

“Not sure that blackmail is the word you’re looking for, but go off, bud.”

“Don’t smartmouth me.”

“Or what?”

They bicker like they’ve always done, and you’ve been friends with them long enough to have learnt how to drown out their voices when they fight.

Sometimes your friendship feels like it’s always been, playful, sibling like. They roughhouse you, you make fun of them. It’s familiar, warm, comforting.

No matter how bad school gets, no matter how uncertain your future seems, no matter how many times you get your heart broken, you know that Bucky, Steve and you will always be there to pick yourselves back up.

Some other times the lines get blurred, and it’s scary. But the scarier it gets, the more rewarding it becomes to look for signs, finding them in the smallest of things, like how Steve gets all sulky when you go out on dates, or how Bucky constantly seeks your approval for whatever he does.

You space out as they pick a movie, your mind eerily quiet, your body weirdly warm.

There’s a pit in your stomach that you can’t understand fully. It’s been there a while, ever since your friendship has started to shift, and your stares have been lingering as much as their affectionate touch.

Your eyes travel from Bucky’s black t-shirt to his side profile, tracing the gentle slope of his nose and his pouty lips. Lately, you’ve been looking at him a lot more, catching yourself in the act and shaking yourself out of your thoughts.

What thoughts, you don’t know. Your mind is blank more often than not when you’re set on him. When you’re with them.

You’re doing it again, unconsciously, until Steve elbows you in the side, and you’re rudely snapped out of your reverie.

“You’re too quiet,” he mumbles, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Which is weird since you never shut the fuck up,” quips Bucky, hitting you with his shoulder, effectively bringing you back to reality.

You resist laughing because you’ll never give him the satisfaction, and just swing back at him.

“I’m just tired, ‘s all. My neck hurts a lot, guess we’re getting old, huh.”

Bucky just shrugs and presses play on the movie they’ve chosen. You smile at Steve as convincingly as you can to get him off your case.

He nods at you, not quite sold, but leaves it at that, knowing better than to prod you.

“Want me to give you a massage?” he asks, wiggling his fingers in front of your face.

“Please?” you pout, turning your back to him.

Your thought process was that you can never refuse Steve’s healing hands. You didn’t think it through so much, clearly, as he kneads the knots in your neck and you feel your lower body coming alive, a warmth pooling awkwardly in your belly.

Bucky gives you the most offended, betrayed look you’ve ever seen, frowning and pouting like a petulant child.

“S’ not fair. I want a massage too,” he whines, shimmying his shoulders in your direction, offering you the best puppy eyes he can muster.

Cute, you think. “Gross,” you say, “I’ll give you one if you stop with the face.”

He just sticks his tongue out, wiggling between your legs.

The movie plays in the background, your mind too focused on Steve’s warm hands on your bare skin and Bucky’s back muscles flexing under your touch.

The hot feeling in your chest is back when his eyes move from the screen to yours, a goofy smile on his lips, features relaxed.

You bury your hands in his silky hair, scratching his scalp. He almost moans, butting your palm like a kitten.

He’s so effortlessly sweet that it hurts.

It’s silent in a comfortable way, with the sound effect of the movie lulling you all, except your traitorous brain, in a serene state.

It’s a kids movie, and you’re just giving yourselves a massage like you’ve done hundreds of times before, but something feels different about it, in the way that Steve’s warm breath tickles your neck, or the way that Bucky turns around every few minutes just to smile at you.

At some point your hands stop moving, and your back is flush to Steve’s front as he holds you in his arms, Bucky’s head on your lap as he hugs your thighs to his body, fingers absentmindedly caressing your skin, hiking up your legs, higher and higher-, goosebumps erupting all over you. He stops just before the hem of your shorts, making his way down to your knee, just to do it all over again.

You can no longer deny the fluttering in your core, nor the slick gathering in your panties at the thought of what would happen if he just crept higher.

By the time that the end credits roll around, you're cocooned in their warmth, Bucky asleep on your stomach, your own eyes droopy. You’re drowsy, pliant in Steve’s hold as he adjusts you both comfortably on the pillows.

The last thing you feel, as darkness envelops the room, is his lips on your forehead as he whispers to you good night.

-

You hate sharing beds, but when you wake up in the middle of the night between them, you think you may not hate it as much as you thought.

Bucky is a messy sleeper, arm swung over your hips, legs sprawled over half the mattress, face buried in the pillow next to yours, back gently rising with every breath he takes.

Steve is more put together. He sleeps on his side, lips parted, one arm under the pillow, the other close to your side, his fingers intertwined with yours.

You don’t know how long you spend staring at the ceiling, heart hammering in your chest, wondering if this shift in your friendship will bring you closer or break you apart in the long run. You don’t want to entertain the chances of them breaking your heart, or you breaking theirs.

Even the possibility of having to choose between one of the two seems absurd to you.

The bed creaks under Bucky’s weight as he turns to you, tightening his hold on your hips. You’re paralized as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, a breathy whine escaping his lips. All your blood travels to your face when you feel his hard on rub against your legs, his hips uncounsciously rutting on you.

“So soft,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.

You’re staring at each other, almost in a daze, and maybe it’s because it’s pitch black outside and you’re in your own little dimension, or maybe it’s the adoration in his bleary eyes, but you don’t turn away when he closes the distance between you.

The kiss you share is soft, lazy, tentative.

You prod his mouth open with yours, tongues swirling together with no rush and no shame. You’d imagined kissing your best friend would feel more awkward than this, and instead his warmth, his taste, his hungry kisses, everything about it seems natural to you, like it’s what you’re supposed to have been doing all this time, a chance you were too scared to take.

You’re so lost in the moment that you barely register the lips on your neck and another set of hands making its way under your t-shirt, settling on your stomach, fingers barely grazing the underside of your boobs.

As soon as his mouth detaches from your own, Steve is pouncing on you, his kiss more rough and demanding than Bucky’s, tongue less hesitant as it explores you, wiping any remnant of sleep out of your mind.

You’re breathless as he invades all your senses, barely wrapping your head around the fact that your shy friend is eating you whole and the flirty, outgoing one is just looking with hunger and rubbing himself on your leg.

Steve breaks away from you, a string of drool connecting you, his eyes dark with desire. He pecks your lips again, smirking at you as he lowers his face, leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw, to the column of your neck, down your collarbones, settling between your tits.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, grasping the hem of your t-shirt, “Can I touch you? I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

You nod fervently, growing needy with each passing second, “Please Steve, just touch me.”

Bucky gets bolder, kissing you with more conviction this time. Your clothes are shedded, his bare skin heated against yours, your hands in his hair.

Steve takes his sweet time making his way downwards, leaving a trail of bruises on your chest, stomach, hips, kneading your ass. He settles between your legs, looking up at you as he closes his mouth on your clothed pussy, sucking through your panties and leaving a wet mark on them.

You’re embarrassingly horny, arousal dripping out of you, nipples stiff as Bucky plays with them. You want him to rip your panties to shreds and take you right there and then, but Steve has other plans, enjoying the way you’re so pliant underneath him.

He grabs you by the hips, turning you around with your face down and your ass up in the air. The string of your underwear is almost swallowed between your puffy folds, stained with your slick.

Steve takes a deep breath before tugging the string up, teasing your swollen clit with the material, raptured by the way you’re so open and ready for them, glistening with desire.

Bucky sits back on the headboard, eyes half lidded, legs spread before your face. You trace the outline of his hard cock through his boxers, mouth watering at the idea of him inside you, filling you up.

Steve doesn’t give you the time to touch him before he’s tugging you upwards by the hair, flush to his chest. His breath tickles your neck as he teases you through your panties.

“Are you gonna be good for me? For us?”

You don’t have to think about it, strings of ‘yes’, ‘please, ‘touch me’, leaving your lips as if having a mind of their own. It would be embarrassing to be this wanton with anyone else, but with them, everything is like it’s meant to be.

“Then be a good girl, okay? Show Bucky how good you can be with that pretty mouth of yours,” he grunts in your ear, pressing his hard on against your ass cheeks, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

You nod, grind yourself on his cock, so pent up and desperate for release that you rub your legs together just to feel the string of your panties digging in your folds, hoping it would help soothe the ache in your cunt.

“Of course you have, you little slut,” he grunts, pushing your head down on the mattress as Bucky tugs his underwear down.

Yours is ripped by Steve, thrown somewhere in the room, exposing your quivering hole to the cold air. Arching your back, you silently beg for something, anything, which comes in the form of a sting and a loud smack reverberating in the stuffy room.

Steve smacks your pussy again, and again, and again, until the sharp pain in your clit becomes so pleasant that you could come just from that. Bucky wastes no time yanking your head towards his crotch, slapping his heavy cock on your cheek, until your face burns with humiliation and need.

Your hands tremble as you reach for him, hesitating before licking a stripe from the base to the tip, savoring his musky pre cum. You swirl your tongue around the head, teasing his sensitive slit with kitten licks, hands fondling with his balls.

Steve’s thick finger prodding at your entrance makes you gasp, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to shove your face down his cock until you’re coughing, lungs burning, clawing at his things as he holds you down.

“Calm down, Bucky. Stop bein’ so desperate,” Steve’s voice is muffled in your ears as you struggle for air, feeling light headed.

He plunges a finger inside your pussy, then another, eased by the embarrassing amount of wetness dripping out of you.

Bucky whines something in return, yanking you up. Tears blur your vision as you heave, barely getting enough air in your lungs before he pushes you down again, using your head as a flashlight.

He keeps you still, nose buried in the dark hair of his pelvis, as he stands on his haunches. Grabbing your face with both hands, he starts relentlessly pummelling inside you, fucking your mouth with abandon.

With a broken moan he thrusts all the way down, his balls slapping your chin, fingers clamping around your nose when you start gagging.

“Oh, she likes that. She’s squeezing my fingers,” Steve says, scissoring his fingers between your gummy walls, “Do it again.”

Bucky pinches your nose one more time, depriving you of all air. Dark spots start appearing at the sides of your vision, mind hazy. He lets up before you faint, barely giving you time before he’s stuffing your mouth with his cock once more.

Steve lays down between your legs, face up. From his perspective he can see your glistening pussy, your tits bouncing with the force of Bucky’s thrusts, and his cock disappear between your abused lips. You’re being so good to them that he feels like rewarding you.

His hands guide you to sit down on his face, your moans muffled as he latches onto your swollen clit. He sucks on it until you’re on the edge of your orgasm, walls quivering with the need to release.

He stops just before you can reach your peak, and spanks your clit again.

“You’re not coming on my mouth now.”

Your throat vibrates around Bucky’s cock with moans of pleasure, spurring him on to hold you down longer, chasing his own orgasm with a string of curses.

“She’s gonna faint, idiot,” Steve scolds him, tearing you away from Bucky’s cock, drool dripping down your sore jaw.

“She can handle it,” rasps Bucky, rolling his eyes.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” you frown, slapping Bucky’s hands away when he reaches for you.

“Brats, both of you,” Steve sighs condescendingly, “Be more gentle. And you,” he warns, pinching your inner thigh, “don’t talk unless it’s to beg for more, ‘kay?”

There’s a pause, an awkward moment when you don’t know where to look, what to do with your hands, waiting for Steve to take control again, like he always does.

“So-” Bucky starts, looking up at Steve for guidance, “What now?”

“You’re both- y’know, it’s your first time actually doing it, right?” he asks after pondering for a second, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Yes,” you both respond, and he hums.

“Then you two should go first, be each other’s first times. It makes more sense. I got her ready, so it shouldn’t hurt.”

The idea of Bucky’s cock inside you makes you a bit anxious, considering how much you struggled taking him in your mouth, jaw still sore from his abuse, but it also fills you with warmth.

You trust them blindly, and you want this, you want him to be the first one inside you for whatever reason.

There’s no need for words between you, a tiny nod and a reassuring smile all you need to settle on the pillows, spreading your legs for Bucky to settle in between.

He’s always so sure of himself, but in the moment he looks like a lost puppy. He pumps himself a few times, and braces his weight on one arm as he lines his cock with your entrance.

He gives you one more kiss, tasting himself on your lips, before pushing past your entrance. The tip is barely in by the time that you screech, the pain sharper than you imagined, and Bucky halts immediately despite looking like he’s about to bust on the spot.

Your pussy feels like it’s burning, and no amount of fingers inside you could have prepared you for the stretch of your walls.

“It’s okay,” Steve whispers in your ear, a hand rubbing your shoulder to comfort you, “You’re doing so good, being such a good girl, you’re so perfect. It will go away before you realize, promise.”

“Okay, okay, I can do this,” you pant, digging your nails in Bucky’s back.

“Let’s switch, it will hurt less if you’re on top,” Steve suggests, and you and Bucky comply.

He lays down on the pillows as you straddle his hips, propping yourself up on his toned abs. Steve kneels at your side, holding you up as you hover over him.

Your heart’s beating out of your chest as you grasp Bucky’s cock, taking a deep breath to steel yourself before inching down on him, whimpering with every centimeter that gets swallowed by your gummy walls.

The stretch feels like it’s splitting you open, and if it weren’t for Steve’s strong arms, you’d collapse and cry on Bucky’s chest.

Steve whispers praises and reassuring words in your ear and kisses your tears away, swirling his fingers around your clit to help you out, and Bucky caresses the sides of your waist, mumbling broken apologies to you, kissing your neck.

Once you finally bottom out, you still and slump on Bucky’s shoulder, burying your nose in his hair, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent.

The pain is throbbing, burning, but it becomes more subtle and bearable the longer Bucky stays inside you.

“Okay, it’s getting better” you wheeze in an attempt to encourage yourself, “But I can’t feel my legs now.”

They break in a fit of laughter, easing the tension in the room.

“Let’s switch again,” Bucky proposes, slightly out of breath with the way that your pussy is squeezing him in a vice, “I can move.”

You nod, clinging to his neck as he lifts you up, careful not to let his cock slip out of you.

“I want to feel you close,” Steve says, slightly out of breath, “Lay her on me.”

They help you lay on his chest, Bucky’s cock still buried inside you, the pain fading away in a dull sting.

You’re sandwiched between their bodies, enveloped by their warmth and affection, coated in your slick and their sweat, and despite the discomfort, you’ve never felt as full of love as now.

Bucky seeks permission with his eyes, then reassurance from Steve, and starts rocking his hips tentatively, biting hard on his lips to keep himself from cumming embarrassingly fast.

His cock drags against your walls, a ring of white cream slowly accumulating around the base.

It’s not painful anymore, slightly uncomfortable at times when he’s accidentally too rough, but the burn is now a simmering heat that grows in your core with every thrust.

Steve sings praises in your ear, “Look how good you’re doin’, taking Bucky’s cock so well, you’re such a good girl,” whilst Bucky rutts needily on you.

He’s sloppy in his movements, and his hips don’t have a rhythm to them. He takes you high, close to a release, just to fuck it up again when he stutters, involountarily edging you over and over again.

“I’m close, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum inside you,” he moans.

In a blur you’re on your stomach. Bucky positions you on your knees and pummels inside you again, thrusting more forcefully as he loses himself in the pleasure.

You whimper between Steve’s tender kisses before Bucky tears you away from him, yanking you flush against his chest.

“I love you, I love you, love you so much, love you,” he keeps mumbling, tightly clutching his arms around your stomach and tits, slamming you hard on him.

At that angle Bucky’s cock pushes against a sensitive spot inside you that makes the coils in your stomach tighter, your clit throbbing and your walls clamping down on him.

Steve, never one to be outdone, sits back on his haunches and manhandles your head down again until you’re faced with his hard, leaking cock.

He’s trimmed more neatly than Bucky, but he’s just as big and intimidating.

He slaps his cock on your lips, smearing his precum on you. You’re a moaning mess, automatically taking him in your mouth, savoring his musk on your tongue.

Your jaw is still sore but you do your best to accommodate Steve, eager to please. You relax your muscles and let Bucky’s thrusts do the work for you, already lightheaded with the lack of air.

They keep stuffing you with their cocks, bouncing you between each other, the lewd sounds of your squelching pussy and the bed creaking filling the room.

Bucky’s fingers teasing your clit, your lungs burning, your vision going spotty, it’s all too much for you.

Just as you think you’re about to reach your peak, you feel Bucky pause and stutter, a choked moan escaping his throat as he comes, stuffing you full of his warm cum. Steve comes at the same time, and you almost choke on his release as he spills his load down your throat.

It feels good, you’re fuller than you’ve ever been, but it’s still not enough to push you over the edge.

You both collapse on Steve, exhausted, cum pouring out of your hole and onto the sheets. You expect him to take you immediately after, instead he snakes a hand between your bodies, finding your sensitive clit, overstimulated with all the touching.

“You did so well, baby, you were so good for Bucky. Now cum on my fingers, cum for us,” he moans, twirling your bud between his fingers.

Pent up as you are, it doesn’t take long for you to finally come, almost blacking out with the intensity of your orgasm, your limbs shaking and quivering between theirs.

When you come down from your high, you’re tired out, your whole body is sore, your hips and legs hurt, and the cum seeping out of your entrance reminds you of the burning pain there, now back with a vengeance.

When morning comes, you’ll have to remind Steve to buy you Plan B.

The exhaustion catches up to you as soon as your head hits the pillow, a loud ring in your ears as you barely register your surroundings, Bucky already asleep by your side in true Bucky fashion while Steve takes care of you both, cleaning you up and tucking you in bed.

He whispers ‘I love you’ and kisses the tip of your nose.

Maybe one day you’ll say it back.

For now, you let yourself rest in their embrace, always the three of you like it’s meant to be.

—

Damn, 4k words of porn. This felt like giving birth or something sksjshj

Please, share and leave a comment if you can 🥰

[1kook]

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. ��No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue 

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 

—

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

[hope-to-hell]

They Write Books About This Sort of Thing. August Walker x Reader. Allusions to torture and violence. Gross abuse of first-person POV. August may be an asshole, but you aren’t so innocent either. Title swiped from a Say Hi song.

—-

So this is the thing about August. He’s kind of a dick. I know, I know. I shouldn’t be surprised, right? The big bad villain, no morals—

—you said oral the first time, I heard it. Mind elsewhere, pet?—

Shut it. Who’s telling this story, you or me? Anyway. No moral compunctions, no limits, anything that stands between him and his end goal is lust— just— just mowed down. Fucking asshole, I can hear you snickering. If anyone deserved to fall off a cliff and explode, it’s him. Do you feel me? Real. Bad. Need. News. Real bad news. August, for Christ’s sake, knock it off. Jerk.

But listen. He’s like that cliche, the roach left alive after the apocalypse. All scarred and crunched up but still scuttling around. Crawling across your face in the middle of the night, into your mouth, right down your gullet. He’s nasty as fuck and if I had any sense I’d’ve run for the hills a long time ago. But here I am, and here he is, and harboring a fugitive still counts even if he’s supposed to be dead, so I’m kind of stuck. He says if they find out, getting disappeared will be the least of my worries.

This all started out as one of those age-old stories, the kind you’d read as a kid when your parents aren’t looking. You know, bodice rippers. A handsome rogue shows up wounded, gets healed and tamed just enough to where he’s intense but not too scary, and so on and so on. You know it’s all a lie but you just can’t stop reading, right?

Ha. You called me handsome.

Parts of you, anyway. You’re lucky you have such a nice— ok. So anyway, there I am on like my sixth coffee of the morning, trying to make some progress on this novel because I can feel the deadline getting closer, when there’s this thump out on the porch. It sounds like a sack of wet cement, except for the cursing. And there he is: Mr. mustachioed glory himself, looking like shit but with blue fire burning in his one good eye, muttering no hospital and pointing a knife at my knees. And because I’m an idiot, I drag him inside. Let me tell you, that fucker is heavy.

And that’s how I met August Walker.

I just want you to know that whatever happens, even if you chop him up into little pieces, even if you burn him to ash and scatter him around the world, he’s still gonna come for you. He’s one of those people who’s more than human, more than myth. You’ll turn around one day and he’ll be there. You have no concept of how to deal with a man like that, someone so stubborn, someone who’s such an asshole that neither death nor reason can stop him. You can slow him down but it’ll only piss him off. And— do you think this is funny?

Yeah. You’re a funny little thing, pet.

But listen. All this time, all those nights changing bandages and hearing him cry out in his sleep, all those mornings when he sat at the table because he couldn’t hold his coffee cup for long— don’t think that any of that makes him weak, because it doesn’t. Human maybe, but don’t let him fool you with the scars and the trembling hands because the moment you underestimate him he’s gonna be there breathing heavy in your face with those hands rock-steady around your neck.

All of this, I guess, is meant to say don’t fuck with him, and don’t fuck with me because a man like that is real jealous of what’s his. You’re about to learn all about that. He’s told me about his work. No names, no places, but plenty of nasty little details about how to take a body apart. It’s been great for my writing, you know; it gives my stories that extra bit of spice that makes the reader blush and try to hide what they’re reading, but they still come back for more. And you— you’re gonna be my best story yet. I can’t wait to see what you look like on the inside.

Here we go— thanks, August. Christ, that’s sharp— there. It’s okay, you can cry if you want. Or scream. It doesn’t make much of a difference. If it were up to me, you’d be asleep in your bed right now, tucked in all nice and cozy, but you see, he’s assured me that the best way to keep this from happening again is to make sure it can’t. And he’s very persuasive. He’s also an asshole, like I said. So if he says cut, I’m gonna ask how deep. There’s nothing like hands-on experience, and besides. He’s right, you know. If we let you go, you might try something with somebody else, someone who doesn’t have the big bad wolf on their side.

So just lie back, try to relax, and let us do our work. I want to take in every wet sound, every little bit of flesh, the way your last breath rattles in your chest. He’ll guide my hand to imprint this moment on my mind, and I will make you immortal.

[nonbinarykai]

Okay you know what, I’ve held this back far enough

Why I hate canon Kailor sm

Tw:// misogyny ment, incest ment

Im not gonna tag Kailor on this for obvious reasons plus this is kinda a long post, I don’t mind fanon Kailor mostly because tbh I don’t think it’s really a big thing and most I have seen of it is fine. Don’t read this if you like Kailor and don’t want to hear it bashed

Okay listen, s4 is my favorite season out of all ninjago, but if theres one thing I hate about it the most is Kailor. This ship has always been really annoying to me throughout the show, and I’ve hinted towards that in my blog. But why?

1. It’s basically jaya redone

Kailor brings nothing new or interesting to the table because honestly? It’s literally just the same dynamic as jaya. Socially awkward guy simps for usually unimpressed girl until she eventually caves in and they start dating.

Not only has this already been done before with jaya, but is also completely out of character for Kai to do.

While I admit seeing Kai as a flustered dork is kinda funny, once you realize the context of the situation that they’re in it’s pretty clear that Kai would never actually do this.

Reminder: Kai JUST found out his dead friend is alive and is forced to recognsizle with friends in order to get him back

Usually when Kai is presented in a situation like this, what he normally does is set himself dead first on the task at hand and usually ignores any distractions. He’s mostly distance and seemingly uncaring

((note this is after Zane died and Kai ran away from the ninja because of cole and jays bickering, knowing him he wouldn’t be the most excited to be back. His arc should have revolved around coming to terms with lost friendships due to death or distance but that never happens)).

What Kai DOESNT do is immediately fall head over heels for a girl he JUST meet to the point where even when he sees his DEAD FRIEND ALIVE AND WELL he completely ignores that for a girl he meet less then a week ago

This is something JAY would do, not KAI, Kai is a loyal friend who do anything to save his friends, he cherishes them and would fight god to help them with anything they need, he doesn’t forget them for someone new

It also does skylor unjustice as well, but we’ll get there when we get there

2. It adds nothing to the characters and is otherwise never mention again

You know how bad you fuck up a relationship if the best aspect of it is how it’s rarely on screen

Even considering the fact Kailor is just jayas dynamic, the connection between skylor and Kai feels completely non existent or one sided

Most of Kailor revolves around Kai simping for skylor

They have no common interests, common goals, they rarely actually talk outside of lloyds plan to overthrow chen

The whole relationship feels forced every time it’s brought up because of how disconnected they both are to eachother, Kai only likes skylor because she’s hot and that’s it, nothing else about her is actually interesting to Kai in anyway ((again sort out of character for him in this situation))

Skylor and Kai don’t form any genuine bond with eachother, it feels hallow and empty

Let’s compare this to lava, wait no that would be to easy, let’s compare this to pixane

Pixal and Zane both genuinely like and respect eachother, they both share bonds outside of being robots, they both care about eachother enough to know when they’re uncomfortable or need help

Kailor is barely mentioned past s4 and most of it in s4 is Kai being a creep

Oh yeah let’s get to that

3. It’s really really creepy

Im sorry I don’t find incest jokes funny ninjago, it’s just really uncomfortable and creepy

Hopefully this goes without saying but Kai thinking skylor is hot, figuring out they might be related and no longer finding her hot, and then finding out they aren’t and thinking she’s hot is really weird and creepy

Not to mention scenes like, Kai looking into her room without her knowledge or consent

Or Kai fighting people for her when it’s not necessary

Or him trying to impress her everytime he sees her

This isn’t cute or funny, it’s gross, privacy invading, and overall just very creepy and uncomfortable and most definitely not healthy

Again, this is REALLY out of character for Kai, Kai knows when to back off and respect people’s privacy

Literally the season before this he didn’t get involved in the love triangle probably because he knew that would make Nya’s situation worse

So for him to suddenly become this privacy evading perv is so grossly out of character for him and makes the whole relationship feel off and unhealthy

And finally

4. The whole thing is misogynistic

During this entire thing skylor doesn’t get a choice in the show once, she follows the commands of her dad before Kai tells her not to like her dad and follows his lead.

She doesn’t come to disliking her dad by her own thought, she was told to by Kai

She doesn’t get to do anything that SHE actually wants to do until LITERALLY the VERY END

She’s told by guys around her what she should do constantly, even without her being a love interest that’s just screams misogynistic to me ((Afab speaking anyways))

Everything about her character, down to the way she talks, who she’s allied with, and even sometimes how she looks is determined by male characters

Conclusion

If canon ships were shrek movies then kailor is easily shrek the third, a constant tired unfunny mess that caused everyone to think that these ships were shit ((to be fair Jaya is kinda bad to but at least it tired to get better))

There’s nothing redeeming about it to me, every time it’s viewed in a romantic setting it makes me groan or upset

What’s even more frustrating is how people constantly say lava can’t be canon because of it

Im going to go on a side tangent so you can just skip this part as it doesn’t add any actual substance to my argument

But it’s so frustrating to see people say that

Cole and Kai have had a much healthier relationship and would be a lot better for there characters

But no, this stupid misogynistic creepy ship where one side isn’t even consententing to it half the time is the one that has to stay canon because “it’s what the creators intended”

Lava isn’t the superior possibly canon relationship because it’s gay, it’s superior because it’s closer to a healthy working relationship in show then kailor has been ((fanon lava and kailor doesn’t count here because they’re isn’t any better fanon ship, Im just talking about in show))

But no it can’t be canon and it’s unfair for people to want it to be canon because tommy created this rlly shitty straight relationship for Kai instead

TLDR; fuck kailor

[mrskurono]

a/n: Alright so I have baby feels (bc I’m ovulating, fucking hormones) and like all the kids I ever see are people giving the characters girls. Which, yeah its cute, but you know I want some hq headcanons with boys! So here we are me feeding myself content like a heathen :) tags: timeskip spoilers, fluff, parent!HQ characters, nothing that invovled its just kids headcanons, fem!reader involved  character(s): Kageyama Tobio (hq), Hanamaki Takahiro (hq), Kindaichi Yuutarou (hq), Suna Rintarou (hq)

Kageyama Tobio + Two Boys

;| You know what’s funny, these boys were both 100% planned but Kageyama is that idiot that forgets each time you end up pregnant

;| “It’s positive???”  “Love, you literally circled the ovulation day on the calendar so you could tell Fukuro you’d be late.”  “Oh....That’s right.”

;| They both look like Mini Tobios™

;| He’s exceptionally proud of that in fact, dresses them up in volleyball gear constantly and makes sure each kid has a volleyball

;| Closer in age than he and his sister were. The oldest is about three when the other is born

;| They’re exceptionally close simply by the fact you both do everything with them if Kageyama is working

;| But conversely when he’s not training or working this man has his kids with him everywhere

;| Schweiden group actually loves these two (and you) Romeo adores kids as does Fukuro. Toshiro and Tatsuto are like the best weird uncles they could have. Kourai is just a larger child. And Ushijima keeps crayons in his work locker for the kids (and draws with them)

;| Work takes up a lot of time but in honor of his grandfather Kageyama stresses the importance of family a lot

;| Be default his kids really get along and love each other as well as kinda being momma boys

;| But Kageyama is whipped for you anyways so it would make sense both his sons listen to mom without hesitation 

;| Often mistaken for twins even though ones older

;| Avid volleyball players as they grow up but Kageyama never pressures them to be as competitive as he was, constantly reminded of how bitter it was during middle school and high school to be alone, so Kageyama prioritizes fun before anything else

;| The oldest might follow in their father’s footsteps but both of them always keep interests in other faucets of life that Kageyama appreciates because he wants to see his kids happy how they want to be happy and not just because he’s a volleyball player

Hanamaki Takahiro + Three Boys

;| “Lets have another one.”  “Well, what’s one more.” 

;| Basically that’s how you end up with three kids

;| Makki adores kids and honestly he’s never had an issue with them and they listen to him really well (maybe it’s the deadpan stare)

;| One boy leads to another, then two lead to three, no you were never “trying” for a girl and honestly Makki is over the moon with three boys. Having had just sisters, he thinks it’s terrific

;| They’re close in age, like, 2, almost 4 and maybe 6, you guys wasted no time and really it paid off

;| All three of them are tight knit and at some point you had to worry if they were ever gonna make friends outside themselves (don’t worry they did)

;| While you might not have ended up with three mini Makki’s, they all three have “the stare” that sometimes you get all four of them sitting together and looking at you it feels like a judgement 

;| Really they’re just looking at you but it’s hard when they look so unenthused and judgey

;| Makki is super involved (whether he’s working or a stay at home parent is up to you) Regardless he puts other dad’s to shame 

;| This man adores each of them in their own way and never pushes the volleyball narrative on them

;| One or two of them might but none of them really make something of it. All of them though are incredibly smart and end up being Seijoh kids

;| Uncle Mattsun is their favorite because he has gross stories to tell but Uncle Iwa is a close second because apparently it’s genetic all three boys wanna beat him in something

;| Makki’s pissed because Iwa lets all three of them out do him in whatever sport it is they like

;| Makki is still trying to arm wrestle Iwa

;| All four of you men are incredibly soft and down to earth, Makki still makes time for you even with three kids and somehow makes you feel like the sexiest person alive

;| But no, a fourth kid is 200% off the table

Kindaichi Yuutarou + Two Boys

;| After Kindaichi gets through with his apprenticeship and is working, suddenly he’s found himself as a nervous first time parent

;| Not that it wasn’t planned, you both just stopped trying to prevent it

;| The first one was hard, neither of you will lie but Kindaichi’s dedication to mastering this baby stuff really sold you on another one when he asked if you son should have a sibling

;| A little bit more of an age gap, think four when the second is born, but honestly your first is as touchy and sensitive as their father so being a big brother comes naturally

;| Out of all three of them, Kindaichi’s kids end up the perfect blend of you both. Except the hair, both boys have widows peak and dark hair there was no avoiding it I’m sorry

;| Somehow having the second one was easier. Kindaichi kept them strapped to his chest or packed them around while big brother helped and suddenly you were way more free than the first time around

;| Both boys are incredibly smart and very personable 

;| You joke that at least they didn’t inherit their father’s anxiety

;| Kindaichi finds this less funny

;| Both boys though are avid learners, great at making friends and enjoy volleyball

;| Yeah they end up Seijoh kids again and they’re like class 6 and up, they’re smart its scary

;| Thankfully as adults Kindaichi’s been able to reconnect with or stay connected with everyone so the boys have a huge support net

;| Uncle Kunimi swears up and down he doesn’t like kids, but somehow knows these boys so well that their birthday and Christmas presents are amazingly thoughtful. 

;| The oldest actually ends up playing more professional volleyball while the other one either dips into another sport or works in the healthcare field 

;| They’re both huge momma’s boy’s though and do not be surprised that they still ask for your advice and approval no matter how old they get

Suna Rintarou + One Boy

;| This little shit looks exactly like their father

;| Middle part, black hair, unenthused look, what the hell was the point of carrying him for ten months for him to look exactly like Suna

;| Who obviously thinks its the best thing on earth and gloats about his Mini Me more than he will admit

;| Suna excels in the weirdest parenting aspects

;| Physical touch and comfort? Amazing, can get his son to stop crying instantly. Remembering to do things like point at colors and say the names? Kinda forgets that

;| Another one who packs his kid around but opts for a carrier so his hands are free

;| Does workout with his kid attached to him, Suna ends up being an avid walker/hiker afterwards because it was low impact for you after childbirth and your kid loves the outside

;| Will never allow the twins within twenty feet of his offspring

;| Komori and Washio though? Oh yeah no shows his kid off constantly to those too

;| Gets asked when you’re gonna have another one by the way Suna is so over the moon with the first one

;| Inherits the knack for volleyball like their father has and Suna won’t lie he kinda enjoys it

;| Sets up a net outside and the both of them play a lot

;| Though he won’t admit it, Suna really appreciates Kita’s and Aran’s interest in his kid and feels a little proud when his old senpais tell him what an amazing kid he has

;| Suna always deflects it and says it’s only because it’s your kid

;| Deep down though he’s screaming because seeing his kid toss a ball to another Japanese Olyimic player melts his heart to no end

;| Maybe one more....maybe

[piccolina-mina]

Our girl is thriving this season, but what the fuck is this Wyatt plot? I need your thinks about this one. I just knew you'd be six posts in on this by now. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

*sighs* For fk's sake, nonny. I don't even like talking about it because I get ranty.

What do you want me to say? Honestly, everything you can imagine I would feel about this, you're probably right. Because you know, I'm that b*tch always getting ranty about racism and stuff.

In short, I hate it. I think it's unnecessary, tone-deaf, random, pointless, lowkey offensive, and illogical. I legitimately find it triggering AF. And it doesn't make sense.

It's Unnecessary. There is a fraction of a chance that it will connect to something more significant, but even if that's the case, I'm confident that end result or connection could've taken place without this random reform racist Wyatt storyline. This series has struggled enough as it is properly utilizing all of its primary characters as well as providing them with decent screentime and arcs. It literally makes no sense to spend any of that time that could be used elsewhere on primary characters on a recurring guest star.

This isn't actually about Rosa, it's about Wyatt. Following up on the previous point, this specific arc caters to Wyatt. Revolves around Wyatt. Rosa is just a passive participant and vessel for this Wyatt storyline. So again, the arc itself is about a recurring character. At least when they did something similarly bringing back Cam to siphon time and arcs away from its main cast they found ways to implement it better and tied her to multiple main characters, so it wasn't a total waste.

The intended Wyatt/Rosa parallel is illogical. I know what they're intending to do with this storyline, drawing parallels between Rosa's experience coming back from the dead after ten years and trying to make sense of that and atone for things before and having this second chance to make things right and go down the right path and so forth and Wyatt losing his memory and his racist ways and having to reconcile with who he was to who he can be and all of that. I understand the concept they're trying to sell. It just doesn't work. Rosa's addiction is not equivalent to Wyatt's racism and violence. Her mental illness isn't either. It's dangerous to invite the comparasions with this storyline.

It's not successful redemption. True redemption is Wyatt knowing and remembering his actions and then trying to atone for them. It's not the convenience of amnesia wiping out his memory only giving him distance from his actions rather than really facing up to them. Because of the amnesia, to Wyatt, it's like he's hearing about another person. It's a cop out. He doesn't Actually have to do the work to redeem himself or atone or learn or grow. IF we're supposed to compare it to Rosa, she knew what she did and remembers and knows how she hurt her loved ones or whatever and she's actively trying to make amends for that as part of her program... a program that Wyatt isn't working or anything BTW.

They've contradicted themselves too much and are rewriting their own work and thus twisting everything up just to make this storyline work and it still doesn't. The timeline is all fkd up... what they established already all of it..The Longs were racist before Kate's death. Kate was racist. To suggest that a 10+ amnesiac blackout clean slates and erases all of Wyatt's racism is just wrong. As in it literally doesn't even make any sense. That is not how the amnesia works but they keep playing both sides of it trying to make it work. To sell us what they're claiming, he would have to have ALL of his memories wiped and have forgotten who he was completely.

Wyatt is behaving like he's shocked by racism in this town but they're also trying to argue that he was born into it. Wyatt was surrounded by racists and his friends come from racist families but he's acting like the very concept of him ever being ingratiated in it is some huge surprise. Wyatt looks affronted by things like Confederate flags. Wyatt being steeped in and surrounded by racism predates his amnesia period.

Kyle mentioned that line about Wyatt putting Whites Only on water fountains, and it sounded like a school prank. It also sounded like something Kyle was reminding Rosa of as if she was alive when that incident happened. Therefore, Wyatt was doing racist stuff before she died. Kyle would've been out of school by then so how else would he know that or why would he bother retaining it?

IF Wyatt and Rosa really were friends before (which holy retcon), then it makes no real sense that he would get psychopathically angry about his "friend" who does drugs getting into a car accident with his sister who does drugs. He would've mourned them both not jumped to severe racism and violence. But both he and Jasmine's family (who are MIA for all of this) did that... jumped to racism. So was Wyatt indoctrinated by his family or indoctrinated by message boards and shit? And if Wyatt and Rosa were friends than why was Kate such a racist bitch to Rosa?

They're backdrafting history JUST to make this storyline that we don't need with a character who isn't even a main one to work.

By not actually addressing that Wyatt has to unlearn racism and giving him an out through amnesia, there is the very realistic issue of that latent racism to come out at any given time. What happens when he's drunk? What happens when he's really angry at a POC?

Tying Wyatt's redemption with his clear affection for Rosa is again dangerous and irresponsible. I know we would all like to think that love is the way and through love it can heal racism, but that puts the responsibility on the disenfranchised person to be "lovable." Because if Wyatt WAS friends with Rosa once then that means the second Rosa did something unlovable she was just another *insert racist slur of choosing* right? It means that there's a possibility that if his feelings for Rosa dwindle or things go sideways in some way there's a chance that he could revert back to those racist ways. Loving Rosa(linda) and pinning all of his wanting to be better on her because of her makes his actively learning to be anti-racist conditional. Right now he's not doing this for him. He's doing it because of Rosa.

This entire storyline has placed the burden of forgiveness on Rosa, his victim. Without him ever having to actually make amends. It's this turn the other cheek BS that means there's nothing too big or harmful that can't result in forgiveness. It relies on Rosa and all that she represents to extend an inhumane level of mercy and grace to their tormentor and oppressor that was never once extended to them. It's such a consistent and problematic thing projected on disenfranchised parties that ONLY benefits the majority and makes them feel good. It's a narrative of meeting someone halfway when the playing field was uneven and the minorities are in actuality doing more work and making a longer trek. Halfway and meeting in the middle only works if both sides were even. They are not. It's the reaching across the aisle both sidesms when one side was clearly and actively more harmful than the other and than calling that peace and equity. It is not.

This storyline was meant to scintillate some viewers with this "what if" notion and teach others a meaningful lesson or be this poorly thought out gateway to exploring a complex storyline but it came at the expense of other demographics who actively have to deal with racist crap. And because of their problematic approach what is simply "just entertainment" to some who has the luxury of not having to think about it beyond that, is just gross and insanely triggering and uncomfortable to others. The others who deal with the reality of the subject at hand.

They wrote themselves into a corner with Wyatt so trying to dig him out of that no matter the cost or logic is absurd. This storyline could've worked better if Wyatt's racism didn't also include conscious, constant, extreme violence. But they spent all of this time making Wyatt the face of violent racism and now are trying to redeem him with no real effort. He wasn't just using slurs or making microaggressions. He wasn't some insensitive or aloof white person. He is a murderer. He has killed people. He technically murdered Liz in cold-blood. He knew she was in the crashdown when he shot up the place. The lights were still on. He beat up Arturo so badly he nearly killed him well after his friends even stopped. He attacked and intended to kill Rosa. And his handiwork was a constant thing, enough for Jenna to comment on it. And now we're supposed to ignore all of that because he has amnesia and has puppy dog eyes?

The fact that we can entertain (and for some succeed) Wyatt in all of his hot white dudeness' redemption after everything he has done slips into the inherent racism of society in the first place and is enraging. Because systemically and culturally and inherently society will bend over backwards to find a way to absolve a hot white guy no matter his actions. Flint and Noah couldn't get this type of redemption... So their intended storyline about evolving from racism STILL plays into the racist structures set up in society.

And because some people like it, there's this slippery territory of NO everyone who genuinely enjoys this aren't racist for enjoying it. But yes, this entire storyline and how it is playing out is at the very least racially insensitive.

In order for this storyline to work they would actually have to show Wyatt doing the work. They don't have enough time to dedicate to such a delicate storyline. It's been a C and D filler storyline with 45 second to a minute scenes. That's not enough time to explore this properly. We would've needed to see Wyatt returning home from the hospital. We would've needed to see Wyatt with his friends and it not feeling right and his discomfort. We would've needed to see Wyatt going through his yearbook and googling himself and the horror and disgust he felt. We would need to see this through his eyes. But we didn't have the time for that and we wouldn't have anyway because he's not a main character. We only get Wyatt through Rosa's eyes and they haven't even dedicated enough time to that for it to work. Rosa isn't conflicted at all. She didn't struggle to forgive him. She was reduced to a school girl with a crush and an insane level of grace and they just threw that at us with no buildup whatsoever. I don't know where Rosa's head is and how she got to this to place. Not really. And the only thing working about this is the chemistry between two actors who are allegedly dating so of course there's chemistry.

It literally feels like another instance of a favorite actor being shoehorned into a storyline just for the hell of it. Just because they didn't want to let Dylan go or something. Just to give him something else to do.

[artemisia--hq]

This prompt is from @kittensocute ‘kageyama and hinata are stuck on a ferris wheel ride’

(*ﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ

—————————————

When one thinks of amusement parks, games and rides, and generally a fun, happy time instantly comes into mind. This, however is decidedly not fun. This is a nightmare, a weaving of pure fear and terror, and Tobio swears if he ever manages to get out of here alive, he is so going to—

“Aaahh! Ahh! We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die!”

“Stop yelling, dumbass!” Tobio yells. He rubs his face with both of his palms when Hinata still wouldn’t stop screaming like a banshee. “Death is gonna be the least of your concern because I’m gonna kill you first if you don’t! Stop! Yelling!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Hinata cries, “and you’re yelling, too!” He serves Tobio a stink eye, or as stinky as he can possibly muster with his ashen face and trembling lips. Tobio just returns the glare a hundred-fold, and that seems to do the job of shutting the idiot up as he looks away with an obnoxious huff.

But the sudden silence only gives way for Tobio to marinate in regret, recounting every action that had led to the disaster they’re currently in.

It was supposed to be a fun day in the amusement park, and it did start out that way. The first and last time Tobio had been to one was years ago, with Kazuyo-san and Miwa for his tenth birthday. It is one of his most treasured memories that is completely unrelated to volleyball, the only time he had fun without it.

But spending it with his friends (and yes, that includes that bastard Tsukishima, however mortifying that concept is), had been admittedly fun, too. They were all together during the first hour, playing games and getting into every ride they could. But he and Hinata had been pre-occupied with one-upping each other with a shooting game and before they knew it, their friends were out of sight.

It was Hinata’s idea to ride the ferris wheel to look for them. Now they’re stuck in a cramped, glass-covered carriage for fifteen minutes.

“This is why you don’t get to have any dumbass ideas, you dumbass,” Tobio grumbles out loud.

Hinata bristles. “Wh-what?!”

“This is all your fault in the first place.”

The other boy lets out a disbelieving gasp. “You’re the one who said, ‘oh yeah. Good idea,’” he says in mock imitation of Tobio, flattening his hair as he does so.

He’s not wrong, but Tobio can’t give Hinata the satisfaction of being right, either, so he clicks his tongue and looks away.

Silence once again engulfs them.

Tobio gazes through the glass of the carriage to take his mind off of certain things that’s been circling his consciousness like incessant, annoying flies, things that shouldn’t be given permission to reside in his thoughts.

Getting stuck a hundred feet above the ground is bad enough as it is—getting stuck with the worst possible person just makes it a hundred times worse.

Tobio risks a sideway glance out on the corner of his eyes. Hinata has his arms around himself, as if he’s purposely trying to take up as little space as possible. Which is a weird concept to wrap around—as small as Hinata is, his larger than life presence could more than fill up a room, with that beaming smile and loud, cheery voice.

But Hinata is none of that presently. He looks quite pale, wide eyes darting around for every creak and squeak of the ferris wheel carriage, small hands clenching and unclenching the sleeves of his sweater. The most frustrating thing of all: he wouldn’t stop chewing his lower lip, now looking red and swollen and just so ki—

Tobio has to give himself a few mental punches in the head to wrench his attention away from it and to clear his thoughts.

See, this is why he absolutely shouldn’t be alone with this orange-haired gremlin. He gives Tobio horrendous ideas.

“K-Kageyama?”

Tobio’s body temperature drops to subzero. Fuck, was he caught staring? Was he too obvious? He should run—wait, no, fuck, he’s trap, he’s done for—

“Wh-what?” He snaps, anger immediately acting as a reflex.

Hinata flinches, then he sighs, looking down on his feet. “Never mind.”

Something twinges in Tobio’s chest. God, why is he so…taken with this stupid idiot. “What is it?” he asks, cutting down his tone, just a little.

The other boy still has his eyes cast down, squirming. “Uhm…”

“Out with it, dumbass.”

Those round brown eyes squeezes tight as Hinata blurts out, “Canyouholdmyhands?”

Tobio sputters, “Wh-what?”

“Can you hold my hands, please!” Hinata yells, extending both of his hands like an offering.

Okay, either he has completely lost his mind, or Hinata has.

He goes for the more convenient option.

“Are you crazy? No!” He whips his hands behind him, for good measure. “Why would I?”

“Because I’m scared and my hands are cold!” Hinata grouches, and for a second, he has every intent to fight and demand for it, like he always does, but then he deflates and slumps on his side of the carriage. “I-It’s fine. That was weird, anyway. Sorry.” He then proceeds to hug himself again, shrinking within his sweater.

Hinata has never looked so tiny and vulnerable.

Tobio’s mouth starts to open when the carriage suddenly sways and groans on his hinges. Hinata screams and Tobio is already lunging forward even before his mind could even process things, and his hands grabs onto cold, clammy ones, fingers intertwining tightly.

“We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die, Kageyama!”

“Sh-shut up! That was just the wind!”

“I-I don’t want to die, Kageyama!” Hinata wails, tears pricking on the corners of his blown, shaky eyes. “I-I still have to be good in volleyball! I still have to beat you!”

Tobio has never seen Hinata this distressed before, or even this legitimately terrified. He’s always been a scaredy-cat, but never like this. Tobio shuffles closer, gripping their joined hands. “No one’s going to die, so stop screaming.” He gives another reassuring squeeze, and it might be instinct or reflex, but Hinata squeezes back. “I won’t let that happen.”

Hinata sniffs. He blinks his glossy, golden eyes at Tobio “R-really?”

Tobio nods. “Yeah.” He hears some commotion from below and he presses his face on the glass. “Look, they’re doing something about it now.” He turns to face Hinata again. He could go in for a smile, but he figures that would only scare Hinata more than comfort him. “We’ll be out of here in no time, so just…think about something else.”

Hinata shakes his head frantically. “I-I can’t. There’s nothing in here that can distract me!” Then his gaze lands on their entwined hands. “Except, maybe…this.”

“Yeah, well…if that helps,” Tobio murmurs as he stares at their hands, too, before stalwartly looking away. If Hinata finds comfort in that, Tobio, on the contrary, needs a distraction of his own away from it. He settles at looking over the glistening lake dotted with tiny boats shaped like swans and turtles at the distance, but all of his nerve endings seem to concentrate on the point of contact between the, feeling each ridge and bumps of those rough, calloused hands wrapping around his own. Yet, they’re also unbelievably soft, if that makes any sense. Hinata just seems to defy all rules of the universe, from his jumps to the feel of his hands.

They are a bit sweaty, though, which is kind of gross. But Hinata being gross is not an entirely alien concept to Tobio, so whatever.

“Your hands are really warm,” Hinata says suddenly in genuine awe, as if he doesn’t mean to say them out loud.

Tobio’s hands are not the only ones getting warm—he can feel the back of his neck and his ears prickle with heat. “And really big. And your fingers are super long.” Hinata adds.

Tobio is half a mind to withdraw his hand and pocket them into safety, if only to keep them away from scrutinizing large eyes and to save himself from spontaneously combusting. But it does seem to calm Hinata, so it’s a risk he just has to endure.

He faces the other boy—the whole distract himself thing isn’t really working, anyway. “Obviously, dumbass,” he jibes, “I’m bigger than you everywhere.”

Hinata just nods, then he’s silent for a moment, before whispering, “Is this weird for you?”

“What, that I’m bigger?”

“No, stupid,” Hinata says with a roll of his eyes. “I meant, this.” He gestures at their hand, lifting them and letting it drop in the space between their knees.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Tobio says, although he’s not really sure if he’s saying that to Hinata or himself. “You’re the one who asked for it.”

Hinata shrugs. “That’s different. I didn’t think you’d be up for it.” When Tobio doesn’t answer, Hinata sighs. “I-I mean, you normally do this kind of thing with…you know…” he trails, his pale cheeks quickly rising in color, eyes looking anywhere but at Tobio’s face.

“No, I don’t know,” Tobio says.

Amber eyes finally locking with blue ones, Hinata says in the softest voice, “You do this kind of thing with the person you like.”

“I do like you.”

It must be the work of altitude and oxygen and all the science-y stuff Tobio never paid any attention to in class because it’s the only logical explanation why his mouth decides to run off without his brain. He resists the urge to face palm himself hard enough to propel himself into the next dimension.

Hinata, understandably, stares at Tobio like he’s grown an extra head plus a tail. “You—like—what?!” he screeches, face and neck dousing in crimson red, and Tobio figures, he’s faring no better. “Y-you like me?!”

“I-I meant as a-a friend!” Tobio stammers, shouts, whatever. “As a friend and—and teammate! Dumbass!”

“I-I know that! I-It just surprised me!” Hinata shouts back, even as his face burns even deeper, redder than the sun settling behind the mountains.

Then he snickers, quickly turning into a full-on laugh.

“W-what? What’s funny?” Trying to sound demanding is hard when Tobio’s heart is lodged in his throat and with his entire body on fire.

Hinata snorts out a giggle, then he’s smiling at Tobio, radiant and flushed and—

Beautiful.

Here, trapped in a cramped, musty enclosed glass a hundred feet up in the air, Hinata—his rival, his partner, and if it isn’t obvious enough, the guy he’s been crushing on for months, looks achingly beautiful.

“Well, that makes me happy, because I like you, too!” Hinata exclaims.

Tobio has never really understood the expression ‘on cloud nine high,’ but he’s pretty sure this bursting feeling within his chest must be pretty damn close.

Then the beaming smile turns into a teasing smirk. “Even though you’re sometimes mean and violent and calls me dumbass more than my own name.”

And Tobio can’t help it, he smirks right back. “Dumbass.”

Their nonsensical argument of who likes who continues until the ferris wheel starts to turn and move again, continuing even after their feet touch the ground, as they zigzag their way among the crowd in search of their friends.

With Hinata’s hand still clutched over his.

—————————————

Thank you for indulging my request (begging) for a prompt! I have to apologize, though, this is not as good as I’d like to be, but it does help me ease out of my writing slump. I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless! ^o^

You can also read it on ao3 (with minor edits)

[ecto-american]

Humanity

Upon their arrest by the GIW together, Valerie learns something interesting about Phantom and herself that make her question just how human both herself and Phantom are.

note that this isn’t a phic phight thing, just something i wrote literally months ago for Lexx but forgot that i wrote

on FFN and AO3

----------------

They didn't even have the decency to arrest her before Mr. Lancer's class. Being arrested for...well, the Guys in White were never really clear as to why they showed up to Casper High to arrest her. But whatever the reason, that would have been one hell of an excuse as to why she was not just missing, but why she couldn't turn in that book report that she not only didn't do, but hadn't even read a single page of yet. Valerie had an inkling she knew why, but she remained completely silent the entire march out the front doors of the school. She wasn't an idiot after all.

The agent to her left opened the door, and the agent to her right put his hand on her head to duck her into the white SUV. The door closed, and Valerie glanced to see just how tinted the windows were, as well as the police-style framing of the windows and the separation between the driver and passenger as well as the backseat dwellers.

"Oh, I was wondering why we stopped here."

That familiar voice made her jump, and she turned to see Phantom. He was in the exact same predicament. Hands behind his back, leaning against the seat, though she could immediately tell that his handcuffs were much clunkier and glowed. Obviously anti-ghost.

"You!" Valerie hissed. She immediately leaned into the window, lifting her leg up, and she began to kick him repeatedly. "What the hell are you doing here!?"

"Ow!" Phantom hissed as she got him in the shoulder, and then his rib. She didn't stop, and she didn't miss. "AH! Fuck, stop it! OW!"

"Knock it off!" one of the agents boomed. The sudden, strict tone made Valerie pause. She kicked him one more time, square in the face, before finally stopping.

Phantom made a weird wheezing noise, and she saw him shift to rub his nose on his upper arm and shoulder. He frowned.

"My nose is bleeding," he complained.

"I hope your nose is broken!" Valerie snapped back at him.

Phantom glared at her. He made a weird noise in his throat, and it took Valerie a moment to realize what he was doing. Preparing spit. And indeed, the ghost teen stuck his tongue out, drool instantly dripping, and he leaned in. Valerie instantly leaned away from him.

"Ew! Gross! Get away from me!" she complained.

"Nu-uh!" Phantom replied, his tongue still out as he continued to scoot. He got close enough to open his mouth, and some of his saliva dripped onto her knee.

"Gross, gross, gross!" she shrieked. Valerie kicked him in the side, and Phantom let out a pained wheeze.

"Knock. It. Off," the other agent snapped at them. They had gotten into the driver and passenger's seat, and both were glaring at them.

"She started it!" Phantom accused. The driver frowned at him, obviously not amused. Phantom scooted back to his side of the backseat. Valerie stayed pressed against the window and door. She could hear the drive mutter something about hating kids before turning the vehicle on, and they drove off.

--------------------------

They made the duo sit in the interrogation room for three hours, according to the clock. They had, thankfully, just connected the teenagers to the table via a long chain and handcuffs, so that they could at least be a bit more comfortable, even though Phantom, and for some reason her, were both given anti-ghost bracelets to wear. A box of tissues were also tossed onto the table, and Phantom had spent the first half hour tending to his bloodied nose. He stuffed all the used tissues, grossly, into his pocket, though she suspected why he did that. It had his DNA on it.

Phantom nor her attempted conversation. Neither were stupid. They essentially stared at each other and the walls, their only words were occasional out-loud wondering of when somebody was going to show up to question them already.

Obviously her more pressing question was why the hell they were still together. For some reason, Phantom was with her every step of the way of their weird little field trip. They got escorted in together, processed together, and now were sat at the exact same interrogation table. Why? She had absolutely no idea. Didn't they normally separate people they arrested?

At exactly 6:38 PM, somebody finally opened the door, and she and Phantom sat straight up.

The agent that sat before them was a large man, muscular and tall with big hands and sunglasses that fully blocked any chance of the teens from seeing what he was looking at.

"We know you're both half-ghost."

Valerie's mind instantly went to Vlad. That must have been what he was...she had been debating with herself for weeks now as to what he was. A ghost disguised as a human? A human who had ghost powers?

She pushed those aside to look at Phantom. To her surprise, he was pale. Nearly as white as his hair, with anxiety sweat drops beginning to form. Her interest peaked instantly. Silence hung in the air. The man said nothing, simply keeping his attention intensely on them. Valerie

"That's ridiculous," Valerie finally said something. She nearly added that the entire idea itself was ridiculous too. Well, it kind of was. It was so weird to grasp, but it wasn't really something that she wanted to think too hard about these days, and especially now. There was nothing more that she'd love to do than to throw that manipulative old bastard under the weird half-ghost freak bus. However, not only was it probably not a good idea to start beef with a literal superpowered-villain billionaire...but Dani was still out there.

"Don't lie to me." The man sounded agitated. "Both of your ectoplasmic readings are abnormal."

Ectoplasmic reading? Her? Valerie stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

"I shouldn't have any ectoplasmic reading," she pointed out. "I'm alive. Alive people don't have ectoplasmic readings."

The man opened up his folder, pulling out a few choice pieces of papers to slide her way. Phantom silently watched them, his eyes wide and his face looking utterly blank yet...so fearful. Valerie opted to ignore him for a while, accepting the papers to hold as she read through them.

She was familiar with how to read ectoplasmic readings, charts and monitors by now. Green eyes scanned the data, frowning in confusion as she checked the details, and she could see out of the corner of her eye Phantom leaning in to read too. She adjusted her position so that he couldn't.

This description was definitely her, and...she was giving off ectoplasmic readings. Not really in the same way as a normal ghost; there was something distinctively different about hers that any set of trained eyes could pick up on. But how?

"I don't understand," Valerie spoke slowly. "I'm alive." She put the documents back down on the table. "You can take a swap or slap some ghost goop stuff on me. Hell, prick my finger." Valerie held her palm out to the man. Her anti-ghost bracelet sparkled a bit in the light of the room. At least she now knew why they made her wear the bracelets too. "I'm not dead."

The interviewer stared intently at her hand. He gave a neutral hum of acknowledgement, swooping the papers back up.

"Testing and experiments will be reserved for a later time," he replied. Valerie got instant goosebumps. Testing and experiments? "Maybe a few hours in holding will help you realize why you should just come clean to us."

"Can I get some water first?" Valerie asked. The agent snorted in amusement as he stood up.

"Ghosts don't eat or drink."

She felt numb, and she had no idea how to respond to that. Two more agents came into the room, and they silently took the teenagers further into the building until they reached a door. The third agent opened it, and Phantom and Valerie were ushered inside.

The room almost immediately led into bars, and the first thing Valerie could think of was just how much it looked like jail. Two uncomfortable looking bunk beds on either side, a toilet in the middle, a small sink, and no windows. The light was dim, and the room was cold.

Phantom was pushed in first, and then Valerie, and the bars clunked as they closed. She turned to see the bars begin to glow as the bars were locked.

And there was no goodbyes. The agents were eerily silent as they filed out, and the door was shut behind them. She could hear the faint click as it also locked.

Valerie turned to see Phantom's reaction, and he still looked shaken and pale. She already suspected the answer, but she needed to hear it.

"So...are you?" Valerie asked.

"No!" Phantom's answer was way too quick. "What about you? Don't you hate ghosts?"

"I'm not half ghost!" she snapped back. "I have no clue why they'd think that."

Phantom studied her for a moment. His eyes lit up.

"Your suit!" he declared. "The one Technus gave you. It must make your reading wonky."

The second he reminded her, she felt a cold shiver. Suddenly her heartbeat felt off, and she assumed she was colder than usual because of...ya know. That couldn't be true. It had to be wonky readings. The suit was so nice...so much nicer than the suit that she had made herself. It was so much more powerful, so much nicer, just flat out cooler.

She put her heart over her chest. She still had a heartbeat, right?

"What's your excuse?" she asked. Phantom didn't say anything. He turned his attention to the wall, staring blankly at it.

"...Why would they let us stay trapped in here together?" Phantom changed the subject. Valerie narrowed her eyes at him, but she had to admit. It was a good point. "Especially knowing that we'd just plot our escape together."

"Pump the breaks, Phantom. I'm not escaping," Valerie scoffed. "They'll realize their mistake and just let me go."

"Well, they're not gonna let me go," Phantom frowned. "The Guys in White don't exactly play nice with ghosts. And I'm not leaving without you."

"Not my problem," Valerie replied. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Unless...of course there's a reason for it to be my problem."

"You can't just do it out of the kindness of your heart?" Phantom sounded sarcastic, despite staring at her desperately. Valerie crossed her arms. "Please?"

"Give me one good reason to escape with you."

And thus began a staring contest. Phantom shifted from foot to foot, and he glanced at the floor. A lightbulb made the realization click. The GIW knew her identity. They arrested her at school. But they didn't know Phantom's. Nobody probably did. This was likely a ploy to get them to reveal themselves to each other. How or why, Valerie wasn't sure. But now it was glaringly obvious to her.

Phantom was half-ghost. Just like Dani. Just like Vlad. The Guys in White don't play nice with ghosts, and she had a strong feeling that they didn't care much about playing nice with humans either. Especially if they suspected that there was ghost within them.

"Nevermind," Valerie sighed. Phantom stared at her, and he...looked scared. "I can destroy ghosts…" But I really can't take part in destroying a human.

Phantom grew a bit pale again, as they both knew the unspoken words. He took a deep, shaky breath. His reaction was all she needed to know, that this wasn't some weird lie or ploy.

"So. What's our game plan?" he asked.

Valerie studied their surroundings. She reached out to touch the bars of their shared cell, taking immediate note that she wasn't shocked.

"Well, obviously there's that big shield outside," Valerie lightly mused.

"I can get past that shield," Phantom spoke up. "Under the...right circumstances."

Valerie nodded. If Phantom was able to turn human away from the prying eyes of cameras and more, they could both obviously escape right out the front door. Hell, they could likely utilize both Phantom and his? Human? Side? Whatever he was called.

"This facility was designed for ghosts, not humans," Phantom continued. "If we worked together, we can probably make a quick exit." Valerie hummed in agreement.

"That's not just enough," Valerie replied. "I'll just get arrested again. They know who I am. Like, they know Valerie Gray is the huntress." Phantom frowned, and he thought for a moment.

"We could maybe delete their evidence files or something?" he suggested. Valerie paced their cell for a moment.

"There has to be some kind of computer security room somewhere," Valerie spoke aloud to herself. "If we can find it, we can probably wipe evidence and also fully take down the shield."

Phantom leaned against the back wall of the cell.

"I don't think that's enough," he replied. Valerie stopped pacing to stare at him. "We need to make sure the Guys in White don't do this again. Ever. Never even have the chance to get to this point again." Valerie scowled.

"They help hunt ghosts!" she protested.

"And they'd consider Danielle a ghost and rip her to shreds," Phantom countered. The reminder of that little girl hit her straight in the gut. She sighed.

"I don't know," she said slowly.

"They're a government organization, they'll rebuild," Phantom pushed. "We just need to stall them long enough to buy time for us to figure out how to keep you, Danielle and I safe."

She hated it, but...yeah. She wasn't really in the best position either. Valerie had no clue what was going on with her, but the Guys in White were incredibly persistent...and she knew her dad wouldn't be able to afford a lawyer for her anymore.

Valerie held her wrist up. Her suit's bracelet was basically hidden underneath the anti-ghost one, but she could still feel it there. Her suit wasn't gone. She could still access it, and that made her feel more confident in that she was still human. Which she had to be. Right?

Valerie activated her suit, and she held her wrist up to read the screen. She pressed a few buttons.

"I think I can figure out a map of this place," she said. "And from there we can see where's what."

Her forearm glowed brightly as it gathered data. It took a few moments of calculating, but soon, she had her results. Phantom was soon peering over her shoulder, both of them studying the map.

"How accurate is this?" Phantom questioned.

"It tends to be fairly decent. Sometimes it's hit or miss with collapsed buildings, but overall it's spot on," she replied. She adjusted the screen, zooming it out. "I can only get the floor we're on though."

"That looks like it could be some kind of utility room," Phantom pointed to a specific room. Valerie zoomed in on it, studying it.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "Yeah. Gotta be. It's got a lot of power coming to or from there. Has to be a source, or at the very least some kind of major technology area."

"Either way, we should destroy it," Phantom said. Valerie frowned.

"I don't know," she hesitated.

"I mean, you can't even summon your powers."

Phantom glanced down at his wrists, glancing curiously at them before setting his sights on Valerie's arms.

"Can you shoot them off?" he asked.

Valerie tried to summon one of her weapons. She waited. And she waited. Nothing came, and her gut became queasy. She couldn't get her ghost weapon. None of them would summon. This had to be a bad sign. Or was it just the GIW prepared against humans too? That was the most logical explanation. She couldn't be…But also she could be...after all the ectoplasmic readings...

"Um, actually, I think I can…" Phantom's voice caused her to truly look at him again. The ghost was fiddling with his wristbands, using his knees to lock it in place as he attempted to slip his wrist through the band with no success.

"Here, let me try," Valerie interrupted him. Phantom glanced up at her.

"Can you shoot them?" he asked. Valerie forced a weak smile, but she held up a screwdriver.

"Got something even better. My travel tool kit," she replied. After too many breakdowns in the field, she had replaced a small pouch that previously held smoke bombs, something she rarely used, with a few small tools. It was easily one of the best choices she made.

Phantom held his wrist out to her, and she turned the bracelet around. Eventually she managed to pry a piece of the metallic covering off, exposing screws and a few wires. Valerie didn't undo or cut anything right away, both her and Phantom silently trying to make sense of the connection and mechanics behind it. Would really suck to find out the hard way that disconnecting a certain wire would trigger an alarm, after all.

"I think you shouldn't touch the red wire," Phantom lightly mused. "Pretty sure that's a power, and if you turn it off it'll be bad news."

"Mmm, yeah," Valerie agreed. "I think I can just unscrew this though, and we should just be careful to not slip the wires off."

Phantom nodded, and he waited patiently as she did just so. After twenty minutes of careful disconnecting, Phantom had two hands free, and he flexed his hands with a happy sigh.

"God, that just feels so much better," he told her. He motioned for her to hand him the screwdriver. "Here, I'll do yours." Valerie shook her head.

"I can't leave. I won't say anything if you escape, but they know my identity."

Phantom frowned.

"I'm not leaving you here. Come on, you saw your map. We can destroy their power. We can destroy this entire building," he began, only for Valerie to cut him off.

"And do more destruction? Is that all you think about?" she snapped. "You're safe. They know my identity. You want me to get more charges or something? I can't risk it. I'll just stay here. They'll figure out soon enough that I'm fully human." A full human who apparently had mixed logic as to whether or not they could use their ghost hunting suit. If she was fully human, she could summon those weapons, right? Unless it was specifically preventing any ghost weapon, regardless of the user, use it.

"Red, I don't think you understand," Phantom told her. "They're not going to go easy on you. Even if you prove you're human, they're not going to believe you. You heard them. They already denied you contact to the outside world."

That reminder sent a chill down her spine.

"Then tell my dad," she told him. Phantom stared at her. He began to unzip his suit, and she instantly began to look away. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Valerie, look at me," he demanded.

"You're naked!" she protested.

"I'm not naked, just look."

She decided to humor him with the intention of taking a quick peek. But when she saw him, she felt a cold sweat hit her. Phantom had only zipped enough to expose his chest, and there was a distinctive Y-patterned scar on his chest that stood out against the other scars.

"This is what happened last time I was trapped here. I'm not going to leave you alone here," he stated. He suddenly looked away, and he quickly zipped his suit back up. "There's no way in hell I'm going to risk this happening to you. Red, you need to come with me."

That urgent gut feeling of needing to go finally crashed into her. The GIW would never believe her. Not just because of stubbornness, but...Valerie herself wasn't even sure anymore.

She swallowed dryly, and she nodded. Her right wrist was offered to him.

"Do you know what to do?" she asked. Phantom scowled.

"I just watched you do it," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes, but held her wrist up for him, and a half hour later, she too, was free.

She wasn't sure if she was more concerned or relieved to instantly feel that distinctive rush of power back. The second Phantom removed her bracelet, she knew that she could summon any of her ghost weapons now at her fingertips. But she could still summon her suit regardless, and activate her GPS abilities. Was this normal? Valerie had no clue what this meant anymore.

"So, next step, I think we can escape through here."

Valerie looked up to see Phantom was now floating by the vent at the top of their cell. He was already using her screwdriver to undo the vent cover. She pulled her map back up on her forearm, glancing at it and studying it.

"I'm pretty sure the vent will go straight to that electric room," she told him.

"Oh, now you're finally seeing the big picture?" Phantom lightly teased, glancing over his shoulder as he popped the vent cover off. She nodded at him, but didn't crack a smile.

"...You and Dani may look just alike, but I never want you two to have matching scars," she said. Phantom's smile dropped, and he nodded in agreement.

He placed the vent covering on the top bunk, handing Valerie back her screwdriver. She slipped it back in it's pouch.

"Here, I'll give you a boost up," Phantom offered, pressing his hands together. She nodded, stepping a foot onto his hand. With ease, Phantom pushed her up, and she grabbed onto the vent, pulling herself in. It was surprisingly fairly roomy yet not, and she managed to get comfortable on her stomach, pulling her map back up.

"Ready to commit several federal crimes?" Phantom's voice half joked. She looked behind her the best she could to see the ghost right behind her. She snorted in amusement.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied. "Just follow me. It's time to give these idiots hell."

And hell they did. Who knew that the Guys in Whites headquarters could cause such a colorful explosion.

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

The Birthday Fic

Several months in the making. Started around Ruggie’s birthday (Which is why he’s the opener) completed long past my own birthday.

Content warning for coarse language, sexuality, mentions of illness and the medication needed for managing it, and getting wildly horny to a point that even I was impressed with myself.

As always, there’s more in my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag, send me a message if you liked it! (I know what the birthday gifts were from most everyone, even if not mentioned in-fic.)

~*~*~*~

"I'm sorry dude, what did you say? You ears started going and I just tuned the fuck out."

"I said, 'when's it your turn to have the school-run birthday party?' It's got it be soon." Ruggie's intentionally twitching his damn ears, has to be, and you had to physically shield your eyes to be able to answer properly.

"I don't fucking know, man, I need to have a birthday for that."

"Everyone has a birthday."

"Yeah, but I don't know when mine is."

"Can't Crowley tell you? He's got all kind of magic."

You sighed. "He tried that, so I could remember my proper name. He can't even get a year fix."

"That fucking sucks, Yuu." Ruggie passed you a pop can before cracking open one himself. "You should get one of these, too."

"Ah, maybe Riddle will take pity and dedicate me a specific Unbirthday party." What was this, melon? Not bad.

"That's not the same because you won't get loot."

"Yeah, you wanna go through fifty boxes of chocolates to get rid of all the ones with potion-of-suck-your-dick? I'm good."

He scrunched his nose in disgust. "People still trying love spells on you?"

"Not as much, but I still get Mal to check them over for me. He's good about that."

"He just doesn't want to share."

"Shush."

"It's true!" He stopped for a moment. "Does he know you don't have a birthday?"

"He hasn't realized yet and you're not going to tell him."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu?"

"Trey?" You blinked up at him. You didn't talk as much as you'd like to, mostly because every time he showed up your mouth rapidly filled with whatever treat he'd just made.

"What do you like best for cake?"

"I will literally eat anything that you put in front of me if you make it, even if it's full of shit I hate."

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, new angle. What don't you like?"

Oh boy, he better prepare himself. "Fondant tastes gross, modeling chocolate is white chocolate so I hate it, a cake should be cake and not mostly fucking icing and rice crispy treats, most icing's too heavy for me if it's not whipped cream- why are you writing this down."

He looked up from his notebook, blinking at you with his pleasing yellow eyes. "Because you always give thoughtful feedback to my baking and I want to make you something as a thank you."

"Oh. If that's it, I'd rather have cheesecake."

~*~*~*~

"Mon Trickster~"

"Rook, I'm trying to re-" You yelped as he squeezed your waist, and you swatted at him. "Fuck's gotten into you?"

"What, I cannot play with my sweet friend?" He'd dragged you from your seat in the library, and was now doing his damndest to twirl you around without ramming you through the tables.

"Not right now! I expect this shit from Floyd, not you." He's going to get you both kicked out of the library if he doesn't smarten up.

"Our dearest Malfeasant is playing with the Rose King right now. Besides, he lacks my talents." He stretched your arms out straight before twirling you around, your back pressed to his front.

"Is that getting away with being a shithead?" you ask as you pap the side of his face, too little force to be a slap but with a similar message of 'stop'.

"Amongst much else, my dear!" He managed to dip you low, bracing one of your legs in the air, and you wiggled out of his grasp with a thump to the floor.

"Ah, what an invitation, ma belle! But alas, I cannot. It could never be. I'll see you at lunch." And he left you there, baffled, on the floor.

You wound up getting kicked out of the library after you started shrieking in rage and kicking like a damned toddler. What the fuck was that about?

~*~*~*~

"People are being weird."

"Everyone's weird around you." If Idia's combo kept, this would be a perfect match. "You encourage it in people with your presence. It's a passive AOE. No fighting against it."

"More than normal."

"It's the curse of spring. If you aren't sneezing, you see pretty girls and get stupid." He got his perfect match, and went back to the lobby. "Even I'm not immune to simp fever and spring flowers."

"You sure? You only go outside so you don't die of Vitamin D deficiency."

He pouted at you. "Girlfriends are supposed to be nice to you, you know."

"If I stopped, you'd wonder what's wrong. Anyway, then you couldn't brag to your followers about a tsundere girlfriend."

"You're not even a tsundere! You genuinely like me even when you're mean." He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "You're maybe sadodere."

"What's that one?"

"Sadistic yet affectionate."

You opened your mouth but genuinely couldn't argue. He was too fucking cute not to be mean to! What can you say? That pwease-no-buwwy aura he got when distressed was just too much.

"Yeah." He paused, a small smile creeping across his face. "Yuu."

"Yeah?"

"You really like stripes, don't you?"

You looked down, at his blue striped shirt you were wearing. It honestly fit you better than it did him. Further down was pinstriped socks, and if you remembered, the underwear had stripes too.

"What do you think."

~*~*~*~

"Mal?" "Yes?" "Why do you have all this even if you don't wear any of it?" "I do wear earrings now, thanks to you." He dropped another oversized ring onto your finger. "The rest, I simply don't bother with unless I must appear in an official capacity."

"So I'm a special occasion?"

He smiled at you, sweet and genuine. "Always."

"Then why am I your jewelry rack today?" So many necklaces. So many rings. There'd be a crown on your head, too, if the crowns for Draconias weren't essentially elabourate chains hanging off the horns.

"Perhaps I enjoy seeing you wearing my things. You wear Shroud's all the time." He was slowly going through a box of rings, trading them on and off your fingers after puzzling over them.

"Your clothes are tailored, and I'm too big around." You thought for a moment. "So, Mal."

"Yes?"

"Are you planning on something you aren't telling me?"

He blanched and immediately went shift eyed. "Of course not."

You took a breath. "I'm gonna say no."

"Yuu-"

"I'm pretty sure your grandmother would eat me alive if I said yes."

"No!" He made a shushing guesture. "I... am planning something. But not a proposal, my goodness, that would be too much pressure for you and would splinter the kingdom." He sighed. "Even if I would like it."

"I know you would. What are you planning."

"No."

"Yes, tell me."

"It's a surprise. You'll get it at some point in the future."

You thought back to some of the stranger events of the past few weeks. "... is it a birthday party, Malleus."

"Nnnnnnoooooooooooooo?" His face was a desperate, wide-eyed mask of please-believe-me.

"Yes it is."

"I didn't say that."

"You might as well have!"

"It's not." He wasn't even facing you anymore, knowing his face would betray him.

You took a deep breath. 

"I can keep pretending I don't know. I mean, if you want to throw a surprise party, I can't really stop you. And anyway," you added, "If I don't have a set birthday, there's no way I can know exactly when it's coming."

He relaxed, slightly.

"Don't get me a ring, though."

He chuckled. "That does have implications, doesn't it."

"Don't it, though?"

"I was checking what colours were most flattering for you." He finally turned around, all warm smiles. "I should have known. They all look lovely, because you're the one wearing them."

"Stop." You could feel you cheeks reddening. "If it helps, gold doesn't make my ears act up."

~*~*~*~

When you walked to your dorm one warm day, after school, you simply could not see the building for the brambles grown up since you left this morning.

"Yuu?"

"Grim?"

He squinted at you, unimpressed. "Your prince boyfriend has lost his fucking mind. Why'd he do this?"

"I think I know." You looked in amongst the branches, which held no roses, but something better. You plucked off a blackberry and held it to your little shoulder monster.

"Ew, no. I want tuna."

"Suit yourself." There was a path, and if you got on tiptoes, a tent half-hidden behind the briar. "You ready for a party, Grim?"

"What? What party?"

You shifted him from your shoulder to your hip as you walked along, careful of your sore arm. "They decided I needed a surprise party because I don't have an actual birthday. Figured it out like two... three? weeks ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He stopped, looked away, and bristled. "Why didn't they tell me?!?"

"Because you can't keep a fucking secret?"

He yelled and scrambled to the ground. "Hey assholes why didn't you tell me I better be getting presents too-" He's already out of sight, and you can't stop laughing at him. It's better like this, when he's himself.

~*~*~*~

Why is Everyone here. There's a huge stack of presents, there's a buffet table, there's chairs, there's - 

"Shrimpie's here!" And then everyone converged with enough words that it was just a wall of sound; mystery hands leading you to a chair, someone was trying to stick a hat on you -

"Wait!"

People only stepped off and quieted because your voice cracked. Idia, hiding in a corner, managed to raise sympathetic eyebrows before whispering something into Azul's ear.

"I gotta go inside for like, five minutes, I'll be right back." And off you went.

~*~*~*~

"You don't seem the type to do drugs."

You looked up and laughed. "Well, Vil, I gotta get through the day somehow." You shook out two pills and poured a glass of water.

"What are they for?" He leaned against the doorway, as though it wouldn't cover his clothes with splinters and dust.

"These," you said as you pointed to the two in your hands "are anti-nausea. They're new."

"How many of those do you take?" He nodded towards the other bottles on the counter. “I didn’t see them during training.”

"Well," you said, as you started to number them off on your fingers. "I started the first ones after Eliza, to help stabilize my organs, the second ones were immunity-boosting after my pneumonia, I started taking vitamins after that as well, I got sleeping pills for nightmares after Jamil blotted - they don't always work, but hey - and, well." You shook your current bottle. "Your curse vapours are pretty good, it turns out."

He blanched, and you backpedaled. "You weren't yourself, and I only have to take these before meals now. I had to get IVs in the morning for a few days, I couldn't keep... wait, wait, shit, no, I'm sorry, don't make that face -"

Vil crossed the distance, putting his face very close to yours. "You should have told me."

"Why make you feel even worse, man?"

"Because I could have formulated something better for the damage." He flicked your nose, more exasperation than malice. "Cures and poison go hand in hand. I can't fix what was done if I don't know."

"Taking care of my medical woes is not your job, Vil."

"You don't get to tell me what is and isn't my job." He squeezed you close with one arm. "You're just an exhausting little potato."

"I'm a delicious little sweet potato that you can't resist."

He sighed, exhausted. "Yes you are. Now take your pills and stop with secrets."

~*~*~*~

"What kept you?"

"Had to make sure there's room in the fridge for all your food, Trey." He hadn't chosen one cheesecake - he had at least two dozen varieties of bite sized miniatures, labeled by flavour and potential allergens. "You were busy."

"Well, I felt like experimenting. I hope you don't mind."

"You're the one doing me a favour." You looked around, everyone chatting idly with one another. "Where's Mal."

"..."

"I swear to fucking god if he didn't get an invitation to the party he helped organize-"

~*~*~*~

It turns out he'd left to fetch an obnoxiously large bouquet of flowers, the scent so overpowering you thought your chair might tip from the force of it.

"You do enjoy them?" Mal was so cute when unsure.

"Yes, dear." As long as people didn't crowd in again. Lately, you can only take so much sensation before your brain shorts out and you start yelling. "Set them on the table, I'll have to start on them later." Hairspray and an arid room would have those dried within the week.

"Which part of the celebration will we start with first?"

"I don't know. It's my party but you're the ones throwing it. Where's Grim?"

He pointed over to one of the set up tables, where Grim sat in a pile of wrapping paper, furiously kick-scratching at a wriggling toy fish as big as he was, while Cater filmed. "We realized a few days ago he'd be unhappy if he didn't get his own presents."

"Aww. Is there catnip in that?"

He leaned in conspiratorially. "We're not supposed to have any on campus because Kingscholar is susceptible to it."

You went right past normal laughter straight to wheezing.

~*~*~*~

So far, the highlights were: A mycological photobook from Jade big enough to crush someone's head with (that he cheerfully wrote as such on the inside flap), an enormous multipack of slipper socks from Ruggie (with a note saying it was a return on the doughnut-patterened ones you'd given him for his own birthday) and a parure set from Floyd, crafted from thousands of woven seed pearls with carved coral feature beads that was frankly obscene in the amount of money it must have cost. (He, of course, said it was worth it as long as you wore it for him, and simply laughed when you quipped that he meant with clothing right?)

The rest was fantastic, still - various books and movies, a pretty glass vase from Ace stuffed with wildflowers, fine silk dresses from Kalim and a simple belled bracelet tucked in, from Jamil. Currently, you were opening a basket from Vil.

"Oh, wow," you meant with sincerety as you pulled out a light, fragrant soap. "You make this yourself?"

"Yes. There's soaps, shampoo, conditioner, perfumes, lotions..."

You smiled at him sweetly. "You saying I stink, Shoenheit?"

He mirrored your smile right back at you. "Be sure to use them."

"... I'm going to kill you," you said, laughing, as you lobbed the wrapping paper at his face.

~*~*~*~

"Az?"

"Mm?" He was watching with amusement as you looked the jacket over, a lovingly tailored frock coat in periwinkle wool and shell toggles.

"Are you sure this'll fit?"

"Of course." He guestured down the table to Rook, who waved. "He checked your measurements."

"When did-" Ohhhhhh. Oh. Alright. "I'm surprised he couldn't tell by just looking."

"I could, mon ange! But that was more fun!"

~*~*~*~

Malleus barely hid his pout when sliding his box over to you, and it didn't take you long to guess why. "Floyd's jewels really show yours up, huh."

"Perhaps," he said, pointedly not looking at the boy currently playing with Grim.

"Yours are more special because they're from you." When unwrapped, the box was stunning; carved walnut with shell inlaid curlicues. "My god, how old is this?"

"Older than I am," he said with a smile.

"How old is that, Mal."

He just kept smiling, and you rolled your eyes and opened the box to reveal a piece far, far different than the frothy confection Floyd gave you. A single, sizable brooch of gilt and enamel, a tiny faerie woman staring up at you with imperious emerald eyes, she was so lovingly crafted you could see the tension of her muscles and the hair between her legs.

"This piece is only a hundred and fifty years old," he said mildly. "The artist lives in the Valley of Thorns, and created it in the image of her lover." His smile was fond, and sweet. "They're still together to this day. Even if we may not last so long, I hope that it can be as strong."

The sentiment was enough to make you tear up.

~*~*~*~

Several tissues and a bat-shaped blanket from Lilia later, Idia pulled out a large box. And another, and another.

"Uh, Idia."

He just turned red as he stacked another box.

"Dude, holy fuck. What did you do?"

"Looked at your wishlist on your shopping websites." He's flickering pink at the tips of his hair. "Couldn't decide."

"I told him to just get them all!" Ortho looked wildly proud of himself. "Some of them are from me."

You blinked several times. "I thought the sites broke." You started feeling faint. "Idia."

"Yes?" He finally brought out one last box, easily two thirds your height, and set it in front of you.

"Some of those dolls were... so much madol."

He was shifty-eyed. "Yeah."

"Some of the outfits were themselves more than some of the dolls on those wishlists."

Despite the redness, his face was still. "Yeah."

"Oh my god." You're already sitting down, but you need to lie down. "That's too much money."

"It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"Why do you have so much money one of those sites alone was at least a million madol's worth of-"

"Please just open the boxes," he said in a strained voice. "I don't want them all staring."

You take your shaking hands to start unwrapping, mentally trying to figure out which rooms in the building were sound enough to hold obscene amounts of porcelain, resin and plastic. By the time you were done, there were over forty of varying shapes and sizes with complete wardrobes for each; the last not even on any list - that was an art piece near as tall as you, a fine bone china girl with golden curls and knowing eyes from an artist whose work did not go for less than five million madol even firsthand. Your vision greyed at the sight of her, and when you came to your senses, everyone breathed a sigh of relief before spending the rest of the evening treating you as something at least as delicate and precious as her.

~*~*~*~

It's just past sunset, and guests are still milling about. You're not really looking at them, though - you're losing your little friend.

Grim's only himself in daylight, now. Once the night hits, he goes back to the strange, feral thing that laid your wrist open to eat a chunk of solid ink. He's gone twitchy, wordless, pacing with his now headless robot fish in his mouth, before finally tearing through the brambles to god-knows-where.

"... I don't know what to do about it. He doesn't come back at night anymore. What if he doesn't come back at all one night?"

"I won't let that happen." Idia was draped over the back of your chair, idly playing with the wrapping on your wrist. You couldn't see his face, but a curious tension was clear in his voice. "How many of those crystals has he eaten?"

"All of them, as far as I know." There may have been one on the camping trip that you were mercifully excluded from; thankfully your restraining order against Vargas meant that Grimm had been allowed to attend by himself. Good thing, too, your period had arrived weeks early. "Do you think it's like mercury poisoning? The effects get worse as more collects in his body?"

"Maybe. It's something to look into."

You snorted, lightly. "What do you know about it?"

"... Less than I'd like." Before you could ask, he leaned down to your ear to whisper, "I'd rather know you."

"What, now?" You looked around at the tables. "There's still people here-"

You barely stifled a cry when he nipped at your earlobe. "I put on something nice for you~" You could hear the smirk in his voice as he played every trick in his book to goad you. "Unwrap me and see~"

It took every ounce of self control in you to not throw him down on the table and take him right there, in front of God and every student in the school.

~*~*~*~

"I'm too late, I see."

"Close that damned door before everyone hears."

Malleus obediently shut the door to the balcony before setting his slotted pillow on the dresser. "They couldn't even if they had their ear to the door, I soundproofed all our rooms months ago."

"Aren't you clever. Did they buy the excuse?"

"I think that they would have believed that you were going to bed if you did not say it as soon as Shroud went inside looking very proud of himself."

You flopped back onto your pillows, eliciting a sleepy grunt from Idia. "Shit."

"And if you didn't trip on the stairs in your haste."

"Now you're making fun of me."

"Perhaps," he smiled, sitting at the foot of your bed and idly stroking your leg.

"So, why didn't you tail up after us?"

"I am, if I try very hard, capable of some discretion, even when it comes to you," he huffed. "And anyway, someone had to see everyone off, get everything put away, and bring the gifts inside."

Your face fell. "I'm sorry-"

He crept up to put a finger to your lips. "It was very simple. Now," he pressed himself against you and turned to look at Idia's drowsing form, "what is this?"

You snickered lightly to yourself. "I think he found my browsing history." All you'd left on him was a fine pair of silk stockings, with delicate stripes from thigh to toe. You'd never thought he'd even consider wearing something like that, but your pretty blue boy was so full of surprises.

Malleus hummed to himself as he reached out a hand, dragging a finger along one bruised hip. Idia only sighed and fluttered his lashes, and Mal let out a stuttering gasp.

"Do you think," he whispered, voice hoarse, "that if I took these off with my teeth, that he would still stay asleep?"

You felt faint at the thought. "I don't know, but let me watch you try."

~*~*~*~

You awoke, later, to Idia sitting with the blankets pooled around his waist, five of his blue screens open. You couldn't make much sense of them, too sleepy to make out the letters on their obnoxious brightness, so you reached out both hands to squeeze his waist.

He yelped and scowled at you. "Go to sleep."

"No, you." The screens weren't making any more sense, but there was, briefly, a picture of Grim. "What are you working on?"

"I'm almost done," he said, which was not an answer but you were too tired to notice, so you reached up his back to wind a few locks of hair around your hand - and pulled, which lead to another annoyed yelp as he quickly saved and closed his work. "Just say you're weak to light attacks instead of doing that."

"You know I am." When he finally laid back down beside you, you put your face to his chest, as much to block out the light from his hair as for warmth and comfort. No wonder he slept so poorly, he literally gave off blue light every hour of the day, that only dimmed once he was already asleep. "Tell me about it later, okay?"

"Later," he said, and you drifted off between your two boys, which was almost as nice as sleeping with Grim in your bed, but this would have to do until he got better.

[flourgirl]

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Months after you and Peter have broken up, you run into each other at Harry’s Christmas party.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Both fluffy and angsty. Mentions of alcohol and sex. A mild amount of curse words.

A/N: I’m ALIVE! I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season, and Merry Christmas to everybody that celebrates it! I am so happy to be able to share my work with all of you! Enjoy <3

“And maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece Till you tore it all up” -All Too Well, Taylor Swift

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Harry had promised you that his roommate would be spending the holidays with May back in Queens. But here he was, wearing the sweater that you had given him last year with his arm snaked around another girl’s waist.

“Hey!” Betty grinned, throwing her arms around you. She had a half-empty glass of mulled wine that you could tell was doing a good job of getting her tipsy. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N. We never see each other anymore.”

She pouted, a pair of reindeer antlers where her signature black headband usually sat. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” you assured her, still staring at Peter effortlessly carrying the conversation with a bunch of people you didn’t recognize. “Uh, who’s the girl with Peter?”

“Gwen Stacy,” she muttered, obviously not a very big fan. You figured it was because there was only room for one preppy blonde girl, and Betty didn’t feel like sharing that position with anybody else. “Don’t worry though! It’s nothing serious. Peter actually hasn’t really dated anybody ever since the two of you…”

Her voice trailed off as you locked eyes with her, silently communicating for her to drop the subject. It was a relief to know that he hadn’t moved on, but the fact that he was wrapped up in a fling with somebody else still made your heart hurt.

“Come on, Y/N. I’m sure MJ and Ned would love to see you! They’re over in the kitchen.” She reached for your hand, dragging you along through Harry’s expertly decorated apartment. 

You dropped the box of cookies that you had baked on the counter before tapping MJ on the shoulder. She was turned away from you, lecturing Ned on why his secondhand Beyblades were not acceptable Christmas presents.

“Who the hell is touching me?” she snapped, turning around with a look on her face that told you she was ready to throw hands. “Holy fuck. Y/N! How long have you been here?”

MJ’s frown faded into a smile as she pulled you into a side-hug, her other hand busy nursing a glass of Harry’s infamously terrible eggnog. “Only a few minutes,” you laughed, your face smushed into her torso. 

“Hi,” Ned piped up, offering a small wave. You could tell he didn’t really know where he stood ever since his best friend basically ripped your heart out and threw it on the floor. Well, it wasn’t actually that dramatic, but he had a flair for exaggerating stories. “Remember me?”

“Of course, stupid,” you grinned, offering a fist bump that he happily accepted. “How could I forget those iconic fits of yours?”

“True,” he said, popping his collar and doing a little twirl that made Betty and MJ roll their eyes. “You look pretty fly too, though.”

“Thanks,” you replied, holding the edge of your dress as you curtsied, something you and Ned had made a habit of doing as the so-called best dressed members of the group.

“You two are just as ridiculous as ever,” Betty mused, happy to see you still fit in just as perfectly as when you were Peter’s girlfriend, even if you weren’t around as much.

The reunion was interrupted by the loud chatter of a certain couple, and your heart sank as you watched a very drunk Peter and Gwen stumble towards the kitchen, a giggling mess. They situated themselves under the archway that separated the two rooms, a piece of mistletoe conveniently hanging above them. 

You could tell that MJ was ready to put a stop to her friend’s embarrassing behavior, and the looks on Ned and Betty’s faces told you that they had no intentions of holding her back. 

“They’re so gross,” MJ complained, setting down her untouched cup before excusing herself to drag Peter out of his drunken makeout session. “I can’t believe he’d do that when you’re right here!”

“Wait, MJ,” you blurted, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her. She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s okay. I don’t care about it. I’m just going to head to the bathroom, alright? I’ll be right back.”

You did your best to stop yourself from tearing up, although you realized you had made the utter mistake of forgetting that the very arch that Peter and Gwen were sucking each other’s faces under was the only way out of the kitchen.

Not even a few moments of you awkwardly standing next to them, occasionally clearing your throat, made them notice you. Eventually, the discomfort grew too heavy, and you tapped Peter on the shoulder. He finally pulled away from Gwen, her lipstick smudged across his mouth and a dazed look on his face.

Gwen whimpered at the loss of his kiss, obviously annoyed at the random girl that had just interrupted them. As soon as Peter recognized that it was you, he stepped away from her, wiping his mouth and fixing the hair she had been running her hands through, just like you used to.

“Y/N. I didn’t know that you’d be here,” he reasoned, a blush spreading across his face as a sense of regret settled into his stomach. 

“Obviously,” you sighed. This wasn’t the Peter you knew—the sweet, shy one that you had fallen in love with. “You guys are blocking the hallway, by the way.”

“Shit, sorry,” he stammered, stepping aside to allow you to pass in between them. He followed you, leaving Gwen irritated and confused as to who you were. “Y/N. Can we talk later?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nice sweater, though,” you quipped, not even turning back to meet his gaze before climbing the stairs towards the guest bathroom. Everything felt all too familiar, memories of you and Peter stumbling up the same steps after a date flooding your brain.

The first time Peter had kissed you was after MJ’s birthday party. Neither of you had been drinking, since you hated alcohol and Peter refused to touch any before he turned 21. This meant that you got to spend the whole night laughing at everybody else’s drunken mischief. 

In the middle of his performance of some Nicki Minaj song, Ned managed to spill a whole can of beer on you and Peter, which resulted in many cheers as the two of you ran to his room to grab a change of clothes. Shirts came off, confessions were made, and the party went on without you guys.

You took a deep breath, shutting the bathroom door behind you and sitting on the edge of the bathtub. If you had known Peter would end up being here, you would have never accepted Harry’s invitation. There were so many old wounds being opened up that you had spent months trying to heal, and you weren’t sure some stupid Christmas party was worth it. 

But you didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t fair how much the break up had stolen from you. All of your friends were here and you were tired of shying away from going out with them anymore because you were too scared to see Peter. Too scared that you would never be able to stop being in love with him.

By the time you rejoined the rest of your friends, Harry was announcing that it was time to start the game of White Elephant. You bit the edges of your fingernails as the party guests filed into Harry’s living room, hoping that Peter wouldn’t somehow pick your present.

“What’d you bring?” you asked Betty, squishing in next to her on the couch. 

“Gift card to In-N-Out,” she giggled, satisfied that her present could only be used on the other side of the country. “But Harry’s rich friends might not have any trouble flying their private jets to California, so maybe I’m not as clever as I thought.”

“Heard that,” Harry said, leaning behind you on the edge of the couch. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, something the two of you had always done as friends but stopped once you started dating Peter. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it.”

“Hey, you,” you replied, smiling back at him, your leg bouncing impatiently. “We doing this thing or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute,” he laughed, running out of the room. Moments later, he came back wearing a fake beard and a Santa hat, complete with a miniature sack of toys. 

“Alright, boys and girls. Let’s get this game started! Hopefully you all know the rules, but I’ll repeat them anyway. I draw a name out of the sack, you pick a random present and open it up for everybody to see. The next person that goes can either steal your gift or pick a new one. If your gift gets stolen, you get to do the same. No stealing twice!”

The first couple of people you didn’t really know, and they had all pulled presents that were relatively uninteresting. A scented candle, toilet paper, a pair of socks. Nothing you really considered worth stealing, although Ned ended up taking a framed, autographed photo of Harry from MJ, which resulted in her stealing Gwen’s mini waffle iron.

By the time it was your turn, there weren’t many gifts left. Going with your gut, you grabbed the bag covered in glittering polar bears. Reaching past all of the tissue paper stuffed inside, you pulled out a red sweatshirt that you unfolded to see had a large graphic of Spider-Man printed on it. 

“Oh,” you said, a little confused. The only people you knew that wore stuff with the Avengers on it were little kids, but you figured that was part of the joke. “I mean, I prefer Captain America, but thanks, whoever this is from!”

Peter’s face blushed to a shade of red, amazed that out of all the presents, you picked his. The only issue was that you didn’t know that he was actually the guy on the front of it. Nobody except Ned knew, although he was sure that MJ and Harry had caught on to his secret identity by now.

“Okay, two people left. Jake, you’re up next, buddy,” Harry called out, happily bouncing around the room, his Santa hat now replaced with a baseball cap that had “I Love Ned!” embroidered on it. You watched nervously as he walked around the room, eyeing up all of the presents before settling on the tiny, golden box that you had placed under the tree when you first arrived.

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” he smirked. Your thoughts raced, immediately feeling a sense of regret over the gift you had picked. “Oh, shit. Sweet! I’ve got a date with Y/N!”

“Sup, baby,” Jake continued, his words slightly slurred. He pointed at you and winked, and you offered him a polite smile in return. “We’re gonna have a good time. Just name the time and place and I got you.”

“Awesome, congrats, man,” Harry said, obviously ready for the game to be over. It had been going for way longer than any of you had expected, mostly due to the fact that two girls wouldn’t stop arguing over a piece of rose quartz. “Okay, we’re nearly finished, guys. Peter, you’re up. Pick any of the gifts that haven’t been stolen yet, or the last one under the tree.”

You locked eyes with him, a familiar scowl on his face that told you he was thinking really hard about which gift to pick. His spidey-senses felt your heartbeat pick up as he walked around the room before stopping in front of Jake, who was busy gloating to his friend about how “hot” you were. Your face heated up as you watched Peter take the little note that you had written out of Jake’s hands, smugly gesturing for him to pick up the present under the tree.

He waved sheepishly at you, and you felt both relieved and angry at his decision. Did you want to go on that date with Jake? No. Were you still mad that, technically, you now had to go out with your ex-boyfriend? Yes.

The game ended and the party-goers dispersed throughout the apartment. You lingered in your spot on the couch, your arms crossed and heart full of mixed emotions. Peter, whose gaze never strayed from you, walked over to where you were sitting.

“We don’t actually have to go out,” he whispered, hoping that you’d actually look at him this time. “I just didn’t think you wanted to go out with that guy. He seemed like kind of an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, it would have been nice if you let me decide that. You’re not my boyfriend, anymore Peter. We aren’t even friends. You don’t get a say in who I go out on dates with,” you grumbled, your eyes focusing on everything in the room except for him.

Before you could say anything else, Peter had already grabbed you by the hand, dragging you away from the rest of the party. Strangely enough, you went along with it, a little curious to hear him out.

You started to remember your first date, and it was almost like you could hear his excited laughter after you finally managed to knock a pin down. It became a tradition that whenever you had something to celebrate, Peter would pick you up and twirl you around until you had to beg him to stop.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Peter slamming the door behind him and cornering you against it, his heartbeat racing. He had pulled you into the laundry room. “I can’t stand seeing you with anybody else,” he panted, eyes flickering down towards your mouth.

His hand pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and your breath hitched as you felt his rough fingertips against your skin. But before he could lean in to kiss you, you were ducking underneath his arm and backing away.

“Peter, we really shouldn’t,” you whispered, watching the disappointment wash over his face. No matter how much you wanted to kiss him, you just couldn't forget how he had broken your heart months ago. “It’s over, okay?”

“Y/N, please. I—”

“You what? You love me? Because last time we were together, I told you how much I loved you and you said that we should break up. Remember?” you cried, embarrassed at how you couldn’t control your emotions anymore. “You’re just… you’re too late.”

You fumbled with the door, slipping through the opening before rushing towards the balcony. As soon as the cold air hit you, a wave of relief washed over your body, and you laid your head against the metal railing. Your breathing slowed and time seemed to stand still as you watched the snowflakes flutter through the wind.

“Peter’s an idiot,” you heard a voice call out from behind you. You turned to see Harry holding an extra coat in his arms, and you started to wonder just how long you had been standing out there. He draped it over your shoulders before leaning next to you against the balcony’s edge.

“Huh?” you asked, wondering if he knew what had just happened. You looked at him, the multicolored Christmas lights reflecting off his shiny hair. “What do you mean?”

“He’s stupid for ever letting you go,” he remarked. He had a look in his eyes that made you unsure of what he actually meant. “I mean, look at you. You’re so beautiful, and smart, and funny. And if he was dumb enough to throw all of that away, then yeah, Peter’s an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess,” you shrugged, your voice faint under the music that was still playing inside. You looked at him, his cheeks a rosy hue, which you couldn’t tell was from the cold or whatever he was trying to tell you.

“You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you,” Harry admitted, laughing a little bit at how nervous he was. Everybody knew that he was a player, so being flustered over a girl was uncharted territory for him. “I never told you this, but you were my first kiss.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, a little shocked at his confession. “But I thought you kissed Sarah Emerson on the playground in the fifth grade?”

“Nope. I was just a liar,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. “It was right before our eighth grade formal, when you asked me to teach you how to kiss because you were scared that Jeremy Pellegrino was going to try and french you.

“Oh! I forgot all about that,” you laughed, suddenly remembering just how long you and Harry had been friends. “Hold on a second... You gave me kissing lessons without knowing how to kiss!?”

“Guilty,” Harry chuckled as you punched him on the arm. “Ow! Damn, Y/N. When did you get so strong?”

“I have a lot of rage,” you mumbled before the two of you burst out into laughter, which slowly faded into a comfortable silence. 

“You don’t feel that way anymore, right?” you wondered out loud. Harry looked at you, smiling softly.

“No, not anymore,” he affirmed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You knew what it felt like to love someone and not be loved back. “I think what really helped me get over it was seeing how happy you and Parker were when you were dating.” 

“He misses you a lot,” Harry continued, his tone more serious than before. “He keeps this scarf that you left behind under his pillow because it still smells like you. I found out because he was having a pretty bad dream one night and I had to try really hard to calm him back down. And we both thought Gwen would help him move on and get his mind off of you, but I think she only made him realize just how much he still loves you—”

“Harry,” you interrupted, cutting his rambles short. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you and Peter should be together.”

“You think so?” you asked him, pulling the jacket tighter to keep you warm.

“Yeah. We all do.” It took only seconds for Harry to realize his fumble, accidentally admitting that the whole thing had been planned by him and your friends.

“We?” Your frowned, all of the coincidences from tonight suddenly making much more sense. “Wait, did you know that Peter was going to be here tonight all along?”

“Uh… yeah, about that. MJ, Ned, and I have kind of been pulling a Parent Trap on you guys.”

“HARRY!” You glared inside to see them not-so-secretly watching the entire exchange from behind the Christmas tree. Ned did some awkward finger guns, which MJ immediately swatted down. “I am so going to get you guys!”

You marched inside to where your friends were attempting to hide, the rest of the party guests too drunk and oblivious to notice what was happening. 

“The eagle has left the nest. I repeat, The eagle has left the nest!” Ned yelled, ducking behind MJ, who was already shielding herself with a throw pillow.

“What’s going on?” Betty whined, half-asleep on the couch. “Is this that stupid plan about Peter and Y/N?”

“It’s not stupid!” Harry grumbled, his voice cracking a little bit. You could hear MJ snorting about it from her hiding spot. “Whatever, Michelle.”

“Shut up!” she shouted back.

“No, you!” he said, crossing his arms and standing his ground.

“Make me,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes and shooting daggers at him.

“Uh, guys. This isn’t about you two,” Ned interrupted, snapping them out of their mini argument. There was a weird tension between them that you just knew you would have to address some time in the future.

“Right,” MJ continued, sticking a middle finger up at Harry before turning to you. “Y/N. You should go talk to Peter.”

You nodded, exchanging hopeful looks with each of your friends before walking away. They might be dramatic goofballs, but you loved them so much that you didn’t really care.

Wandering around the party, you spotted Peter trapped in a conversation with Brad Davis, who was explaining his conspiracy theories about the Denver Airport and its demonic horse statue.

“So, all I’m saying is that they’re totally planning the end of the world over there. I mean, the Freemasons built an entire bunker for when they activate the nukes!” he rambled, Peter politely nodding along to his nonsense.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Brad on the shoulder and batting your eyelashes at him. “Can I borrow Peter?”

“Uh, yeah, totally, Y/N,” he stuttered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smirk. You could smell the peppermint Schnapps on his breath.

“Great. Thanks, Brad!” you smiled, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him towards the staircase. By the time you made it to his bedroom, he had already asked what was going on about ten times.

“Why’d you dump me?” you asked, the two of you sitting together on the edge of his bed, your knee brushing against his. He could tell you were wasting no time in getting to the point. “Be honest.”

He stared at the floor, unsure of how to answer your question. You reached for his hand, running your thumb across his knuckles until he looked up to see you smiling at him. His eyes were starting to water. “Just tell me, Peter. It’s okay.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was scared of how much I love you. I mean, Liz was just a crush, and Gwen was a hookup. I’ve only ever loved you, Y/N. Before we met, I had to watch May’s heart break day after day when we lost Uncle Ben, and when I realized how much I loved you... I just wasn’t sure if I could handle ever losing you like that. And so I felt like I needed to protect you from all of the people who would want to hurt you.”

“Hey, Peter. Calm down. I’m right here,” you whispered, wiping a tear from his face. You watched as his breathing slowed, eventually evening out. “Why would anybody want to hurt me?”

“Because…” he started, hesitating a little bit. “Because I’m Spider-Man.”

Your eyes grew big as you mulled over what he had just said. “Are you being serious right now?”

He nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to his closet, digging around through piles of clothes before he found what he was looking for.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out. Peter was holding up Spider-Man’s suit. His suit. The sweatshirt from earlier made a lot more sense now.

“I would never lie to you,” he said, folding it up and sitting back down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought I was doing the right thing—that you’d be safe—but I was so stupid. I, uh, I think about you all the time. I worry whether you’ve gotten home alright and how your little brother’s doing and if your mom got the promotion that she wanted and—”

You cut him off with a kiss, something you had been dying to do ever since you shut his bedroom door. “I forgive you,” you sighed, gently playing with his hair.

Peter stared back at you, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Does this mean that we’re back together?”

“Yep,” you confirmed, before leaning into another kiss. And another. And another.

“Wait,” Peter said, breaking away from you. “I have a present for you. It’s actually from when we first started dating, but I was waiting until Christmas to give it to you.”

He moved to his desk, digging through one of the drawers before pulling out a flash drive. “Here it is,” he smiled, dropping it into your hand. It had your name scribbled on it next to a cat sticker. “It’s a playlist. Of all the songs that make me think of you. I think it’s got around a hundred on there?”

“Wow,” you beamed, marveling at the little piece of plastic in your hand. “You’re making me look bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Not true. You owe me a date, remember?” he reminded you, wiggling his eyebrows and pulling you into his lap.

“You’re right. Let me think,” you hummed, running through all the ideas of what the two of you could do. “Oh! I got it. The Central Park Squirrel Census for this year just got released. What if we analyzed the data? You could do the wrangling and I could do the visualizations!”

“I love you so much,” he laughed, pressing a kiss onto the tip of your nose. You giggled as Peter buried his face into your shoulder, his grip around your waist tightening. “But you are such a nerd.”

“I’m your nerd, Parker,” you agreed, leaning further into his embrace. “Always have been and always will be.”

—————-

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[arcadejohn127-9]

How would the demon brothers [+ undatebles if you can no biggie tho if not] be with an MC who is plus sized and is super insecure about it? Like they try to get skinnier but can't and they get upset about it or get teased by other demons for being bigger. Side note: your writings are INCREDIBLE. Just like you 🤗💜🎆⭐

Thank you for the request and the compliment! You're too kind!

Oof weight lose and being bullied for my size is something I know abit too well, I always feel sad when I see plus sized people Insecure about their weight

I'm all for people wanting to lose weight to be healthy or just wanting change but when it stems from self hated and an unhealthy mindset - I just can't stand it

Demon brother's with a plus sized MC who's insecure

Warning: angst with fluff

Lucifer:

He isn't a man who's to shy away from being rude and blunt to people

He wouldn't date someone for pity or lie

When he learned you were trying to loose weight

He and the other brothers all treated it how Asmo's diets go, he tries and fails and everyone makes no real effort to not tempt him with food

When he found you crying in your bedroom however

"What's the matter? You're crying, what has upset you?"

"You." Was all you said, trying to calm yourself

He, of course, wanted to know what he did

He kept pestering you until you finally snapped at him

"You're treating my wants like it's a joke! I want to lose weight and none of you are being supportive of it! Why can't you just let me do something for myself?!"

He was taken back

He sat beside you, taking your hand in his

"Why do you want to lose weight? This plan has come rather unexpectedly."

"Because I'm too big! Everyone thinks so! No matter what I do all nothing works! Don't you think I'm ugly?"

"Since when did being big equate to being ugly? Are your height makes you ugly?"

"my height...? What does that-"

"Weight isn't something we can always change like our height, some people just can't change their physical appearance, it can only happen naturally and even then it may be a small amount gained or lost."

"I think I get what you mean."

"I hate admiting this but- I'm not good at this kind of thing but I think you look wonderful, if you really wish to go on a diet I'll support you but it needs to come from a healthy and non destructive mindset."

He poked. your forehead before kissing your hand

Mammon:

"Mammon? Don't you get embarassed when you're out with me."

"You are pretty embarassing sometimes."

He wasn't pay too much attention, not catching up on your tone

"Oh.....I see....maybe I shouldn't come out with you tonight."

You already didn't want to go out, the outfit Mammon got you - whilst it looked expensive - was tight on you

"HUH?! now what's this all about? You trying to quit on the great mammon?!"

"Well- I'm much bigger than the demons you hang around with, aren't you ashamed? They're way more attractive than-"

He rushed to your side, gripping your arms

"Don't even finish that sentence, ya hear?! Who told you - you didn't look fucking fantastic?! No one talks to my baby like that!"

"But it's true-"

"I swear on Goldie that isn't true! You are the most stunning jewel I've seen, I'm so lucky to be with someone that looks like you! You're personality is already top notch - your body is like a shiny bonus I don't think I deserve!"

He pulled you into a hug, holding you like you were the most valuable thing to him

"You're gorgeous, just tell me who's been bullying you and I'll make sure they know their place, I never want you to feel like that."

Levithan:

Levi was showing off this cast of anime style chatacters from the game he was playing

All of them were so thin and muscular

Everyone had the perfect curve and ideal bodies

"We should cosplay these characters! Don't worry, you don't need to know everything about them - I think you'd really pull off this one, you two already have the same personality."

You looked down at yourself and then back at the Character

You frowned, clutching your stomach

"Really....? But they're so- well look at me!"

He looked at you, raising a brow as he tried to find what you were getting at

"They're a warrior who saved the universe with a knife, it's not supposed to be realistic-"

"I'm talking about my shape, levithan! I'm fat! I'm disgusting! They're built like a god!"

"YOU'RE built like a god! There's plenty of Gods from your worlds stories that are shaped like you! What's the issue?"

"you didn't even deny I was disgusting, those demons were right-"

"What demons?! Are you seriously letting some normies tell you you're gross? What do they know? I'm the luckiest demon alive to be with you and those demons can choke on salt water - you point them out and I'll get my army on them!"

"you really think that? You wouldn't like more if I looked more like your smile chatacters?"

"Media is based of toxic media where they focus on only one type of beauty standard, it's a problem within the game world that they don't add plus sized chatacters."

"i- yeah I guess so....I didn't expect you to really care about that."

"of course I care!"

You both sat in silence, you were processing his words and leaned against his shoulder

"Do you still want to cosplay together?"

You paused before nodding

You both went through the game he's playing, whenever the overly vain chatacter came out levithan would argue with them

Claiming you to be the most gorgeous being in the world not them

Satan:

"I heard some rumours today, have demons been bothering you about your weight?"

You froze as Satan closed his book, shifting in the seat

You stepped back, avoiding eye contact, regretting coming to your room instead of helping mammon with some silly plan

"No...there's been no issue."

"Oh? Then why is there laxatives and diet guides in your school bag? You know I don't like it when you lie to me especially if it means you could be putting your body at risk."

You noticed your bag beside his feet

You immediately grew frustrated as you knew you were being called out

"Why did you go through my bag?! That's my own bussiness-"

"you said I could get my textbooks back, I found them in your bag - I'm sorry I went through your stuff but this isn't fine! You're going to force your body to push itself unnaturally."

"I just- i just want to get thinner, no matter how many times I try it doesn't work! I'm tired of seeing myself in the mirror and people telling me that you don't actually love me-"

"Some people just don't have it easy when it comes to weight lose, going on a diet isn't the best - I can go on cooking duty more often and make sure you have healthier meals."

He was at your side now, stroking your face

"Do you love me....? Truely?"

"of course I do, I've never loved anyone as much as I love you - you make me feel things I never thought i would, your size is the last of my concerns, I'm just scared you're going to hurt yourself."

You nodded, tearing up as you let him hold you closer

You tried to apologize but he silenced you, telling you that your emotions are valid

Asmodeus:

"Darling~! Let's take a bath together, I just got a new bath bomb and some soaps!"

He shook the mini basket filled with bath product's

"really...? Are you sure you want to do that, I'm not sure, I feel really bloated today-"

You were desperate to avoid getting naked Infront of him

Every once and a while he would ask to take a bath together, he respects your discomfort but wants to keep the offer open

"Oh, that's no issue~ we can have some tea Barbatos gave me, it's great for bloating!"

"why do you wanna see me naked so much? I'm not anything to see - wouldn't you be uncomfortable?"

"Uncomfortable? Why would I feel that?"

"In not the smallest person around-"

"Means you got more to love! I love your body!"

"But you're so gorgeous and slender, why would you ever love my body?"

He couldn't understand your feelings; confused on how you could see yourself in a negative light

"because I love you more than myself, I'm still the most special demon around but you're just something else, something I could never stop adoring!"

Beezlebub:

"Do you want to go eat with me? hell's kitchen is having a party."

Beel peered into your room, showing the hell's kitchen site

"I'm not sure about that, I've been trying to cut down on my eating."

"what? Why? Are you sick?"

He immediately got concerned, shuffling over to you

He placed the back of his hand on your forehead

"No- I'm not sick, I just think I should loose some weight."

"oh....then you can still go eat with me, I'll just eat more of your portions."

"you don't have any issue with me losing weight?"

Your insecurities started to chew at you

You weren't really sure what you wanted; you wanted him to be cruel and straight forward about hating your body

It would make your feelings feel more grounded

But you couldn't bare it if he didn't like your body

"It's your choice - should I be concerned?"

"no way! It would be for the best anyway, right? Atleast then I'll look better-"

"What does your weight have you to do with your looks? I think you look fine."

"you don't think I'm too big? Wouldn't you prefer someone more petite? I know you like small things-"

"I like you, I don't see any issue with your body."

It did feel a little ridiculous to think the avatar of gluttony would be bothered by your size but you still couldn't help but feel worried

He suddenly picked you up, kissing your cheek

"I can hold you in my arms just fine, your size will never stop me from liking you, I think you're beautiful."

Belphegor:

He was laying on your thigh's, watching a video comp of people falling over and getting hurt

"Should I loose weight?"

His phone was suddenly dropped on his stomach, staring up at with you surprise

"Why do you ask? Besides, it's not my decision to make - it's your body."

"yeah but wouldn't you prefer it if I was, ya know, thinner?"

He looked at you as if you just said something stupid

Adjusting his position snuggled against your thigh's

"Why would I prefer that? You wouldn't be as comfy."

"is that all you care about? If I'm comfy? Would you be upset if I did lose weight?"

"No, because I love cuddling you so I don't care about your size but I like you the way you are."

"it can't be that simple, there's no way you just like me when I look like this."

"I'm not sure why you're thinking of it like it's complicated maths, I like you- no I love you and very happy with the way you are."

You wanted to argue, trying to find a way to figure out how he's wrong

But you couldn't

"You're my favourite person in this house - don't tell Beel - I wouldn't trade you for the world."