#my bratty water bb

[inkykeiji]

grrrrr miss icky gross virgin incel tomura from like season 1-3ish i do not like the direction he has been taken :(( want my slutty gamer boy back

i get where ur coming from anon (｡>﹏<) as much as i love beefcake shig, my favourite tomura evolution of them all is scrawny, bratty, pathetic, incompetent and entitled NEET tomura sigh :((

[daddy-suguru]

CONGRATS ON 9K

i recently found your blog (ive seen it occasionally before. but now ive noticed it a lot more) and i love your writing ! i’ve yet to rb but i plan to later on when i get more free time def 😭

but you reached 9k for a reason so once again congrats to you and i wish you all the blessings in life bb !

i’d like to join the event pls with either tengen or sakuna and body worshipping 👀

That’s sweet of you :3 I’m happy that you’ve been enjoying my works! And I’m so excited to be writing to so many people, nervous bit excited for the support.

I wish you well blessings too dearie :3 and I hope you are drinking plenty of water. Along with treating yourself with the kindness you deserve :3

✑ tags: fem-dom, with sukuna struggling for power, hints of bratty sub!sukuna, ceo!reader, bodyguard!sukuna, established relationship, thirsty sukuna, praise, body worship, sweet yet rough, biting, jealous!sukuna, wine drunk, biting

Your long flowy dress is over Sukuna's head while he kisses the inside of your thigh. Dragging his teeth, aching to bite down the moment you let him. He roughly confesses,

“Hated how they kept looking at you, sexy mama. When you’re mine.” Pressing your heel into his back. Dragging it up his shoulder blade. The visible shiver of Sukuna's body makes your pussy quiver.

"Re-phase that lack bit and I'll let you fuck me how you want to. For being a good boy and not starting a fight." He groans. Praise is something he never knew he craves so much. But when he acted right and you him how amazing he feels.

It gets him off more than anything else. As he takes pride in fucking you, stupid. The strict instructions you give dwindle to plead for more after the third orgasm. He had spoiled you more than the sugar baby he replaced.

Remind Sukuna, "You handled that other drunken son of whatever ceo very well and I'm proud of you Suka." His jaw clenches at the nickname. Sinking his teeth till you cry. Tensing your thighs around his head. While he digs his nails into your other thigh.

Roughly squeezing as he moves your other leg over your shoulder. The sharp, tingly pain shoots up to your pussy. Which Sukuna kisses soon after. Sucking on your pussy through your panties. Licking your clit, before lightly dragging his teeth.

Whimper at the thought of Sukuna biting down on your pussy. Pressing your legs forward, your heels resting on top of his shoulders. He slips out from underneath your dress.

Folding you in two on the sofa, while bunching your dress around your hips. Sukuna does his best to make you feel smaller. Using his bulky height, as he buries his face in your neck, mumbling,

"I'm yours, I'm your..." His voice drops lower, "good boy." His cheeks are burning while it rolls off his tongue. He bites down on your neck to hear your cries. Trailing soft kisses along your neck towards your collarbone.

Grabbing the low neckline of your off-shoulder gown he rips it. Yanking it down to show your breasts. Pulling away to stare at your breasts in admiration. To have you bent up, flustered, tipsy and needy beneath him is something he had been thinking about all night.

Ever since Sukuna watched you get ready he has been wanting to ruin you. Dipping his head, sucking your nipple into your mouth. While ripping your panties off, sinking two fingers past your lips roughly.

Smirking as you gasp, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling. The pain of you tugging on his hair and your heels pressing into his back is making his cock throb. His own nakedness in the face of your clothes makes him too vulnerable.

Early you made him strip the moment you stepped. Through the door. Then decided on another glass. After you had teased him the entire ride by having him jerk off. But refusing to let him cum. While your moans filled the care, encouraging him to cum. Despite the command, you've given him.

You took your sweet time drinking another glass of wine. While he undressed you with his eyes. All too eager for you to finish his glass and give him the attention he has been craving all night.

He sinks his teeth into your tit. Pumping his fingers faster, massaging your sweet spot, the louder you whine. While he flicks his tongue on your nipple. Slowly he pulls away, scraping his teeth along your soft skin.

Till your tit slips out with a soft pop. He kisses your nipple before telling you, "I want to bite you all over, fondle your soft body ma. Mark your neck, and let everyone know you're taken care of. Before I have you squirt on my cock. I'm the only one who knows how to make your pussy squirt." Dipping his head down biting down on the back of your thigh.

Tensing, squirming, then becoming tense again. Sukuna lets go and moans, "Your squishy thighs are so biteable, I can't help it. Hmmm sexy mama you're dripping. Are you going to cum already?" You're embarrassingly close to cumming. After months of getting to know each other physically, Sukuna knows you too well.

Smirking and remind him, "You still can't cum until I tell you to do. Make me squirt first, then you can stuff me full. Your sensitive, fat cock can hold on till then right?" Creaming on his fingers as Sukuna says,

"How is that a challenge when you're already cumming so quickly from just my fingers, sexy mama."

✑ m.list

[paintedkinzy-88]

I finished an essay, needed a break, and decided Crescent should be created, so boom. Very quick, kinda lazy, but ya get the point wheeeze.

Enjoy my rambles:

He be a water boi! Absolutely loves swimming or walking in the rain. I imagine his ecto is a little more opaque than the others, and that’s completely because of his father not because I don’t want to deal with the anatomy of those web spike things. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ but his bones are colored like his OG design, with black fingers and grey bones.

He was such a bratty toddler just to begin with, and eventually went through a very long phase (like from 7-16 kinda long) where he just hated most of the Gang, except kind of Cross, and Horror on occasion. He probably talked to Gradient and Goth about his parents being actual murderers and learned from them that that is Bad, but instead of being afraid of them he’s just really mean. He’s always going to either Errorink home (cuz Gradient), following Dream around, or staying at Ccino’s cafe.

He’s probably said some shitty things to his parents in that time frame, and while NM kinda distances himself from Crescent, it’s only out of respect of his wishes. Cres is still Night’s son and hoard. He still loves him, even if Cres is a dick. Killer and the others try to interact, but are usually shut down.

Probably takes a few things for Crescent to come around, like Killer getting him birthday gifts all the time, their catto versions in Ccino’s cafe being clingy af, and probably even NM going absolutely feral to keep him safe. Maybe a chat with the other Dragonets to get his thoughts and feelings straight. That’s when he really loosens up a bit.

[here2bbtstrash]

bts giving you aftercare - explicit

HAPPY COMEBACK EVE!!!! thought i'd share some OT7 aftercare headcanons since we're all about to get destroyed tonight 🥵🥵

these somehow got long af so.... enjoy? also i half-drafted this in my DMs to @rapline-heaux, and then @kiestrokes basically beta'd this bc i can't keep anything to myself 💀 love both of you beebs!!

🔞 explicit sexual content ahead, minors begone 🔞

knj: prepare for an entire therapy session is all i'm saying. he noticed exactly what parts of his degradation made your pussy throb and you are going to UNPACK that shit together. we all know this man is a freak tho so once the emotions are processed, he's immediately telling you what things he wants to try next time bc his list is never-ending. he wants to hear all about your fantasies too, and once you mention something one time he will remember it forever, and do whatever he can to make it happen for you

ksj: hope you're ready to be treated like ROYALTY. he definitely absolutely just wrecked your shit so, y'know, gotta restore the balance. the first step is to run you a hot bath with epsom salts to soak your sore muscles and already-blossoming bruises in. he leaves you to it, poking his head back in to let you know he made dinner. if he catches so much as a glimpse of unsteadiness in your legs when you step out of the tub and slip your robe on, he's carrying you downstairs bridal-style, ignoring any attempts you make to protest

myg: if there's one thing our otherwise tsundere boy is gonna do minutes after an orgasm, it's praise the SHIT out of you. as soon as he gets his breath back, his low voice is in your ear, telling you that you took his cock so well, and how fucking hot it is to watch your tits bounce while he rails you, and how much he loves having a perfect little slut like you. he knows how crazy his praise makes you (largely in part because it's so rare from him) and honestly 50% of the time this ends in you getting so turned on that you beg him to go down on you one more time #tonguetechnology

jhs: let's be real, this man won't even be able to sit down until he puts the bedroom back together. he'll probably even vacuum while he's already up and tidying, and you really don't mind watching him do it all since he is still fully naked. once he's satisfied with the state of things (and gets you a glass of water and a snack from the kitchen bc he's an acts of service KING) he's crawling into bed next to you where you'll stay for the rest of the night, cuddling and talking and laughing until your stomach hurts

pjm: clingy clingy clingyyyyyy cuddles. his mouth and hands are everywhere at once, to the point where it could nearly count as overstimulation, in the best way possible. he loves to trace over the marks he left behind on your skin, and when he's feeling particularly bratty, loves pressing down just a little on the largest ones until he coaxes a hiss and a whine out of you. then he finally relents and reaches for the lotion, massaging you until everything smells of lavender and nothing else in the world exists to you except his hands working into your body

kth: immediately goes to sleep sldkjflksdjf I'M SORRY. he puts on music or a movie or something but yeah that man is knocked tf OUT, hope ur good bb. but you can have a little next-morning shower sex, nice and slow because he knows you're sore and swollen, as a treat

jjk: pivots so fast you can't even believe it's the same guy who was just pulling your hair and fucking you like a whore. he literally becomes this emoji: 🥺🥺 and wants to rehash everything to make sure it was all okay for you. super nervous that he went too hard even though you always tell him you can take more. once you manage to convince him that you're fine, he grins from ear to ear as he recounts how many times he made you come

[aenaxes]

omg!! congrats on 200!!!! 🥰🥰 ur my fav crosshair writer so: crosshair + trust, with a gender neutral reader? nsfw or not, it's up to u!! congrats again 🎉🎆🎉

kinesthesia

[crosshair x gn!reader] with precision, there is control, and with control, there is tension, not easily soothed. you take it into your own hands to prove that wrong.

warnings: nsfw, fellatio, (kind of) sub!cross

w/c: 3.0k

a/n: prince my he a r t 🥺💕 ily bb ! this was also a super fun prompt to write hehe, and look i openly accept that i’m a pillow princess bottom, but i think i would enjoy making crosshair squirm. uno reverse card on his oral fixation—mine now.

“I’m still not entirely sold on this,” Crosshair admits as he takes a seat at the edge of your bunk. His toothpick bobs anxiously between his lips, chewed down flat where his lips brush up against the bleached wood. It’s not often that this breed of restlessness finds hold: stiff shoulders and hands folded tight over his lap.

Nerves.

“That’s why we have the safeword,” you quip from across your quarters, voice rising as you struggle to twist out of your heavy uniform jacket.

(Un)surprisingly, Crosshair makes for a quick study. Beneath the stony, oftentimes sullen disposition, he’s a simple man. Of course, that simplicity didn’t necessarily limit himself from branching out into an actual person, but you could boil him down to one thing and one thing alone: control. Whether it was his genetic acuity that shaped him into the sniper persona or vice versa, control centered him, grounded him, tied him so close to his sense of duty and personhood that sometimes it was hard to tell the two apart.

So when you had offered two rotations prior to take the reins—offered both as something new and the hypothetical of release from, well, everything that kept him in a perpetually alert state of coiled tension—you honestly hadn’t expected for Crosshair to pause, rolling his toothpick thoughtfully between his teeth, and accept.

There’s certainly a part of you that hopes the manufactured brevity to your tone is enough to soothe the anxiety radiating from where Crosshair makes himself prim and small on your bed, smaller still without the bulk of his dark armor weighed over his shoulders. But, against your better judgement, a low-lying anticipation simmers at the base of your lungs when you finally shuck the day’s sweat and blaster smoke to the side.

He’s seen you undone under him time and time again, beads of sweat following the smug lines of his expression as he bent you to his—and, to be entirely fair, your own—pleasure. And as satisfying as that arrangement has proven itself to be, curiosity has always been that single, nagging vice at the back of your head.

Who can blame you for wanting a taste?

“You remember it, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, and you catch the heavy dregs of uncertainty (perhaps even bashfulness, ha) dragging at his voice.

“Then say it,” you prod. You gently nudge the point of your knee up against Crosshair’s calf and offer him a mirthful glance. And when that doesn’t seem to banish his withering hesitance, you drop down onto the bunk beside him, grasping his hand in yours and squeezing snug.

“I—” he clears his throat with a soft wince: embarrassment. “I don’t think I’ll need it.”

“Cross,” you warn. Because if you were going to do this, you were going to do this right.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath, scrubbing his palm over the highest points of his cheeks. You wonder if the warmth over his cheeks is the same as your own, desirous and shy as you venture into those dark, uncertain places hand in hand. “Tooka, happy?”

“Very happy,” you grin, and you lean close to press a quick peck to the corner of his mouth.

Crosshair leans towards you, lips parted to chase your touch, more, more. But he’ll have his fill, and you’re quick to dart away, leaving him even more disoriented than he already is, all wide eyes that seek you like fading light.

You’re tempted to indulge him because it’s not often that he looks like a kicked loth cat (and he does a damn good impression when he does). But you manage to stuff down the creeping sympathy, opting instead to reach into the pocket of your trousers and produce a well-worn headband.

“Please tell me that’s not Hunter’s.” The rosy edge of desire vanishes from Crosshair’s voice as he catches sight of the broad black swatch of fabric in your palm. In its place, the testing edge of judgement so often home in Crosshair’s snide play.

“Ew, no—what? That’d be weird. And gross. Who do you think I am?”

That seems to do what your previous efforts could not, and your heart jumps when Crosshair responds with a soft snort and shrugs. He’s not resentful, not in the slightest. It’s just trepidation, jumping into uncharted waters with nothing but the trust that your hand, snug over his, would hold fast.

But the laughter settles, drawing back to reveal something that hums quiet between the small eternity between you. Even with your thigh pressed close against Crosshair’s own, you feel him drawing away, hesitant and wanting all at once. You gently pull his hand between you, squeezing once.

“Trust me?” you murmur.

Crosshair offers you a tremulous look, more nervous than apprehensive. You suppose it’s only fitting of him that relinquishing his steady grip over control might be more appealing in concept than on the eve of practice. Nonetheless, when you meet his gaze, you find the kind of uncertainty that heralds excitement, careful but enamored all the same. He nods.

“Then let me take care of you.”

Finally, as you raise your hands to his temples, pressing the dark fabric over his eyes, the tension pulls away from his coiled muscles, dropping his shoulders and bowing his head as you reach around him and tie a knot over the back of his silvery hair. He exhales long and slow as the knot settles snug over his scalp, warmed by the creases left behind by your fingertips and the sudden comfort yet complete unpredictability that shrouds his senses.

Testing the waters, you bring one hand to his cheek, just barely ghosting your fingertips over the lean lines of his jaw, and you are rewarded with a full-bodied shudder that shocks through Crosshair’s form as his lips gently part around his toothpick. Without that precious ability to see, he sits in your palm at your every whim.

You lean forward, gently biting your teeth around the tapered free end of his toothpick, and you feel him swallow hard when you free it from his mouth and drop it to the floor.

“Trust me.”

Chest heaving, he nods again.

“Safeword?”

This time, there is no snark to accompany a begrudging response. “Tooka.” Instead, his voice dips breathy and low between the long breadths between his soft exhales, his beating heart.

“Good boy.”

You surprise yourself at how natural the praise feels, rolling from your tongue and rising over the ambient hum of the ship around you. It fills your chest with something like affection, bordered pride that only swells as you watch him shudder, his lips parting just a little wider to pass that barely-there whimper riding on his exhale.

The hard planes of his body, that star map you’ve committed to the deepest parts of your heart, are familiar terrain under your skin as you flatten your palms over the sharp jut of his collar and travel lower. You pause the heels of your palms over the base of his ribs, pressing softly against the quickening rise and fall of his chest. Satisfaction curls sweet and rich over the tip of your tongue as his stuttering inhale shifts the air around you.

With slow, firm force, you push him backwards onto the bunk, Crosshair’s elbows catching his slow descent over the dark grey sheets until finally drops his head back onto the firm mattress. His chest heaves.

Your fingertips pass over the sinew and soft scar of his abdomen, chasing how his breathing expands from his chest and leaches tension over the length of his torso. You’re certain this isn’t new, not when your intimacy has you stealing the other’s breaths between stuttering gasps. But to feel it under your palms, thrumming and deep—it sets your nerves on fire.

Control. It’s wholly and entirely yours.

You still as the pads of your fingers catch the faint ridge of his waistband. And a part of you is smug with the power of reversal, that it wasn’t Crosshair offering you a knowing smirk as he parted your thighs and pressed close, that it was you, privy to only the deepest intimacy Crosshair could offer.

But it’s exactly that which keeps the power from rushing to your head, stymying the teasing mischief for something warm in your stomach when you trail lower and gently cup over the straining bulge in his blacks. And it grows fonder when Crosshair’s legs jerk with a labored puff of breath, the same one he breathes into your ear when he finally pushes up deep inside you and presses his skin close against yours. He whines, a straining, soft noise through his bitten lips, and you’ve teased long enough.

Crosshair makes a soft noise, somewhere between a gasp and a whining moan, when you finally hook your fingers over the hem of the dark fabric and expose the curved strain of his cock. He’s so open, you think as you reach forwards (though, you suppose being deprived of the one sense that reigned king would do that to you).

You don’t need to be able to see the half of his face rising above the bridge of his nose to envision the soft knit of his dark brows, eyes squeezed shut and lashes fluttering with every soft noise that passes his lips. You don’t need to see the half of his face bound under that broad swath of fabric to envision how his expression breaks from restraint to unbridled euphoria when you trace the edge of your nail down the underside of his cock.

“Please,” you think you hear him whisper past a breathy moan.

Whatever he might have had prepared, the whole gamut of biting, bratty demand to wide-eyed pleas, tumbles back into his throat when you finally climb onto the bunk by his hips, lick the flat of your tongue over your palm, and wrap it snug around the middle of Crosshair’s cock. Instead, you watch with a satisfied awe as he jerks up into your touch, spit-slick lips parted in a silent cry.

“You want my hand or my mouth?” you croon, pumping slowly from the thick base of his erection to the ruddy tip. You want him to feel every quiver of your touch as you run your thumb over the pearly drop of precome beaded at the crown of his cock, reveling in his shudder beneath you. You want to be the only thing he feels.

“Mouth,” he chokes out. “Please.”

“You’re so polite today,” you muse, reaching up with your free hand to rub your thumb over the plush bitten skin of his bottom lip. Emboldened, you slip your finger past his lips, grazing over his teeth as you push the pad of your thumb over his tongue, all the while slowly working your hand over his cock. “The good boy gets what he wants, then. Right?”

For a brief moment, something like disbelief occupies the warm air between you—you, amazed at how easy it is to hold the reins tight; him, stunned that somehow, you in control was as good, if not better, than being the commandeering weight to push your face into the pillows.

Crosshair nods, trembling as you squeeze softly over the base of his cock.

“I need to hear it, mesh’la.”

The last line of his restraint crumbles at the sound: one only ever given from him to you, yet suddenly brought back to him with the full brunt of lust, affection, the secret words you’ve come to call your own. Crosshair bucks up into your hand with a low groan, gasping soft and breathy when you slip your thumb from his mouth and hold him down to the mattress.

“Yes, please.”

You smile and dip low.

Unlike the slow deliberation of your earlier touch, you seal your lips over his ruddy cockhead with one smooth motion, pressing your tongue flat against the underside and hollowing your cheeks. And the heady taste of salt, of trembling anticipation, of him, only sweetens when you flick your eyes up to catch Crosshair tip up his chin, dig his heels into the mattress, and sob.

You sink his cock deeper into your mouth, achingly slow while you continue to work your fist around the base of his cock, and close in a way that coaxes soft, whimpering noises from his lips as he turns his head and clenches his jaw.

Flicking your eyes upwards, a pang of regret shocks through your chest that you aren’t able to see Crosshair come undone from the slightest of touches, tame in comparison to some of your particularly energetic nights. But you do away with the thought as quickly as it comes as his blunt cockhead brushes over the back of your tongue.

His pleasure has always been yours, yours his, you think as you pull back, just until your lips part around the tip of his cock while he shifts and gasps beneath you. You’ll have your turn soon enough.

Before you can sink back down, swallow him as deep as you can, the air by your cheek shifts, and expecting the worst, you lift your chin. But where you expected some stifled yellow light, Crosshair’s fingers feel blindly around you until they find purchase over your cheek. His relief is palpable as his stuttering touch curls over your skin and holds you close.

You smile.

“Trust me?” you ask again, your lips mouthing softly over his cock, catching thick smears of precome over your skin.

“I trust you,” he whispers.

Crosshair cries out, hoarse and as loud as he’s been all night, as you drop your mouth near-midway down the straining length of his cock in one motion, lavishing your tongue under his pulse. His hand tenses over your jaw, blunt nails digging light into your skin as his fingers curl with that bone-deep shock of pleasure. And if the breathy, desperate noises he whimpers into the alcove of the bunk are of any indication, you have a good feeling he’ll want to do this again.

You moan around him in answer. It doesn’t matter to you that his brothers might hear, only a few panels of durasteel away and connected by the reverb of a narrow ship corridor. They probably do hear, but all that matters now is Crosshair, coming impossibly more undone under your tongue as he runs his trembling thumb over the skin of your cheek.

His hips buck up towards you, catching the back of your throat with a soft sting that reaches your nose. If you weren’t so desperate, you might have pinned him down harder or pulled away entirely to let him think about what he had done. But as much as you want to chase this power play, hearing him lose himself to you has you desperate for his touch.

You follow him with every uneven jerk and thrust up into the wet heat of your mouth, letting him take his fill. You simply stroke firmer as his skin warms over your tongue. It’s all so hot, the air heady and thick as you breathe in sharp through your nose and lean into his palm, and you wonder what it feels like, anchored to nothing but you, his sole light in a world gone dark.

His motions fall uneven, his hips twisting against your touch, his breaths becoming deeper, louder as they bounce over the steel ceiling overhead. He’s close.

You twist your fist over his cock, redoubling your efforts. You sink down so far over his cock that your eyes water as you crush the head up against the back of your throat. Heavy and thick, it muffles down a soft gag for you—it’s the deepest you’ve ever taken him. Crosshair notices, and he nearly wails.

He’s been good, you decide as you all but choke around him. He can take that coveted control back. You gently rub his hand, unspoken assent, and his hand slides up your jaw to finds purchase at the back of your head to fuck you down onto him in earnest.

And you take it, eyes blurring with tears and shallow inhales through your nose, holding still and letting him fuck over your tongue until he’s taken his fill. It doesn’t take long for him to spill down your throat, a low, hoarse groan passed between his lips as you struggle to breathe between every dutiful swallow of his thick come down your throat.

“Good boy,” you rasp as you pull the blindfold from over his head.

Crosshair meets you with unfocused eyes, full of wonder and a shaky haze that finds focus on you alone in the low light. Over the ache in your knees, you crawl up to meet him, collapsing down beside him with a soft sigh. He meets you with habit, practiced and true as he tips down his chin and presses his lips to yours, tasting himself on your skin when he swipes his tongue over your lip.

“How was that?” you whisper, breathing soft over his lips.

You tilt your head up enough to catch your nose over Crosshair’s. He still meets you with that same stupor, but you see it begin to mellow into something other than the shock of enjoyment in submission in a man who has only ever known control to be his. It’s quiet and raw, splitting open your chest with that rare kind of warmth that the broad expanse of space and war leave little space to grow.

Yours, whispered and cradled close between your beating hearts, yours alone.

“I’ll remember the safeword,” Crosshair says finally, his voice distant and soft as he still rises out of the aftershocks of his orgasm. But in that weary daze, you catch the rosy relaxation, vulnerable and yet increasingly less rare in your palms. Relief, pride, joy, honeyed goodness rises to the apples of your cheeks at the sound.

“I still think I won’t need it, though.” And you both laugh, curling close.

[freakynct]

can i request soft dom!mark please? y/n who’s really obedient tries acting bratty to make mark (who’s normally very calm and sweet) mad. but as he starts to get angry, he warns her that he will put her in her place and she immediately becomes obedient and sweet again? sorry if this is too much but ever since i read your church boy!mark fic i’ve been wanting my bias even more 🤤❤️

sorry for taking so long to reply bb, hope you like it ♡

you were never the type of sub to be bratty or test mark's patience. you liked to follow his rules and be obedient so mark would shower you in praise. you loved how gentle he was with you, even when he fucked you, he would always make sure you knew how much he loves you and would caress every part of your body. but after having a conversation with one of your friends, there was something inside you that wondered what it would be like to make him mad. your friend had told you that she had one of the best sex of her life after wittingly making her boyfriend angry, so you decided to do the same thing and test the waters. 

mark was in the living room, playing video games while he chatted with his friends through the microfone. you went to the kitchen and started banging the doors of the cabinets and drawers really loudly, trying to get a reaction out of him. once he heard the noise he quickly glanced towards the kitchen, looking back at the game right after. "baby, is everything ok?" he asked but you decided not to answer, pretending to ignore him but he was so engulfed in the game that he didn't pay any attention to what was going on which made you a bit upset. 

you decided to move on to plan number 2, walking towards the living room and sitting next to mark, his eyes moving quickly between you and the tv, a little smile appearing on his lips. "hey baby." his voice was so sweet and you almost broke right there. all you wanted to do was hug him and kiss him but no, you had to control yourself, you couldn't give up so easy. you decided to start messing with him, laying back on the couch and kicking the control remote out of his hand with your foot, making it fall on the floor and you had to hold in a giggle at mark's shocked expression. "babe, what are you doing?" you could hear a little bit of annoyance in his voice and you knew it was finally working. he picked the controller from the floor and looked at you confused. "why did you do that?" and you rolled on your side, pretending to be upset and ignoring his words which cause him to sigh, placing his hand on your leg. "what's going on?" but you shook your leg, pushing his hand away and getting up, being able to see mark's angry face from the corner of your eyes. 

you paced around the room for a while, giving him time to get back to his game, hearing him apologize to his friends and then you moved on with your plan. you walked towards the tv and sat down in front of it, pretending to grab some dvd's, looking through them. "baby, you're in the way." he said first and you, as usual, ignored him. mark quickly turned off his microfone, so that the others wouldn't hear him. "baby i'm not gonna tell you again. if you don't move you know what i'm gonna have to do." his voice was stern, a little deeper than normal and that's when you broke. you couldn't handle it anymore, you didn't like making him mad and maybe acting bratty just wasn't for you. 

you turned around, still sitting on the floor, your head hanging low, too embarrassed to look at him. "i'm sorry." your voice was soft and you heard mark sigh deeply.

"come here" he commanded calmly and you got up, walking slowly towards him and he motioned for you to sit on his lap and you did, your legs straddling his lap, your fingers playing with the collar of his t-shirt. "why were you acting so bratty? you're never like this." he lifted your chin up, looking into your eyes.

"i'm sorry, i was just... i was just trying to make you mad." you could feel your cheeks burning once you confessed your plan to him and he chuckled.

"why, baby?" his thumb caressed your cheek and you looked down at his lap.

"my friend told me that when she did it with her boyfriend he... did nice things to her." at this point you were stumbling over your words and even tho mark was starting to understand what you were trying to say, he wanted to get it out of you. he wanted to hear you say it.

"nice things? what nice things?" you buried your face in the crook of his neck for a second, trying to gain the courage to tell him. "c'mon, baby. you know you can tell me. what things were you expecting me to do?"

"she said he fucked her really hard." you mumbled against the skin of his neck, your words almost inaudible and you shut your eyes, preparing to hear mark laughing at you but all you felt was his hands sliding down your back until it was over your ass, giving it a little squeeze which made you jolt forward.

"so my baby wants me to fuck her hard, is that it?" you could feel his warm breath in your ear and all you could do was nod, feeling your panties soaking up from the excitement and anticipation. "you know all you had to do was ask, princess." you lifted your head and your eyes slowly made eye contact with his, mark's thumb coming up to brush gently against your bottom lip. "open up." you parted your mouth slightly, letting your tongue come in contact with his digit, immediately taking it in your mouth, sucking around it. "that's my good girl." you let out a whine at the praise that you loved so much while his other hand made its way under your dress, rubbing you over the fabric of your panties. "hm, look how wet you are. you want me to fuck your little pussy?" 

"yes- please." you begged and he removed his thumb from your mouth, his arm wrapping around your waist and rolling you over so that you were now laying on your back in the couch. he quickly removed your dress and panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him. he did the same thing to his clothes, positioning himself between your legs, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing the tip along your slick folds.

"you see, baby. good girls get what they want. good girls get to be fucked and good girls get to cum. bad girls on the other hand, not so much." he tilted his head slightly, continuing to tease you with the head of his cock. "so next time you think about acting bratty, think about that. because i won't go easy on you again." and he suddenly pushed himself inside you, stretching you out around him and you moaned, holding onto his biceps, head thrown back as he thrusted into you. "didn't you want to be fucked hard, baby? so now take it."

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Drabble #6: lovesick

(sorry i had to insert these gifs. if this isn’t the taehyung you’re imagining for heatwave, you’re unfortunately wrong.)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! :)

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: You fall feverishly ill one morning, and the responsibility of looking after you falls onto Taehyung’s lap. Of course, there wouldn’t be a problem with that at all if the both of you weren’t so confused about your feelings for each other.

Genre: drabble, fluff, crack, little angst, fwb au, roommate au, f2l

Warnings: tsundere!y/n being bratty as usual, boyfriend but not ur boyfriend!taehyung who all our hearts belong to, “I love you so much” (I feel like that should be a warning lol), maybe confession who knows

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: It’s been over a month holy shit. But VOILA! Enjoy the calm before the storm and try not to bust a lung from all these feelings running wild. (requested by my bb @taexxxiiaa​.)

.

Taehyung should have known something was wrong with you when you didn’t protests against him slipping into your room last night and crawling beneath your covers.

Usually, you would at least act like you don’t want him there, complain about his invasion with that trademark eye roll of yours, before snuggling back to his warmth, ass conveniently wiggling onto his poorly-hidden boner. His hands would quickly find your hips, one of them creeping under your shirt to cup your breast, lips latched onto the cradle of your neck. And before either of you knew it, he would be inches deep inside you, both still dressed because impatience and neediness gave way, and shedding of clothing isn’t necessary during copulation anyway.

But last night, all you did was hum a pleasant sigh at his arrival, eyes not even opening as you pull his arm tighter around your waist. Taehyung fell asleep beside you within minutes.

You have been feeling slightly under the weather lately, sniffly nose and funky throat. Most do in the harsh winds of January where winter has still yet to defrost into the floral bloom of spring. But when Taehyung had so much as mentioned the possibility of you maybe having a wee bit of a cold, you had been passionately adamant that you - you - are not one of those commonfolk who catches colds from a slight breeze.

“Do I look like a peasant to you?” You had scoffed in utter dismay at his proposition. The audacity! “I don’t get sick this easily, certainly not before you do. My immune system is superior and that’s a fact.”

However, you are soon to be haunted by your own words because what is a fact is that you are currently shivering in bed beside Taehyung despite your immense radiation of heat, skin scalding to touch, groggy even after ample hours of sleep.

Taehyung is a lazy riser, but your state has spurred his eyes to fly open, springing upright and instantly wide awake. The sheets around you are absolutely drenched in your sweat. As you’re still in the foetal position you had fallen asleep in, he carefully turns you on your back, you hardly rousing from such commotion that would usually wake you up. You would look rather peaceful in your slumber if it weren’t for the perspiration coated all over, damp hair matted to your face, and brows occasionally drawing almost as if in pain. When he places his palm against your forehead, he curses. “Fucking shit.”

You have a fever. That’s just grand, isn’t it? You should have listened when he told you to wear more layers but no, apparently fashion matters so much more than your own health. Superior immune system his ass.

“Hey…” Taehyung nudges your shoulders gently. No response, still shivering in your sleep. “Y/N, wake up.” He prods a little harder this time but, again, to no avail. This isn’t looking good. You’re not even stirring, and he knows you’re much lighter sleeper than he is. Taking your face in his hand, he shakes your face side to side, your heat almost burning his fingers. “Baby, please…”

Nothing.

Cue the panic unleashing in his head.

You have a fucking fever, and you’re unconscious, and you’re shivering like you’re hypothermic, and your forehead feels like a fucking kettle. What the hell is Taehyung supposed to do? He doesn’t know. Of course he doesn’t fucking know. You’ve always been the one to look after him. What does he do now? Should he call the police? Wait no, the ambulance. Yes! The ambulance! This is a medical emergency for sure, it has to be!

He reaches for his phone on the bedside table.

But wait.

As his thumbs hover over his screen, he realises that he doesn’t know the number for the ambulance. Is it just the same number as the police? Holy fuck, what does he do? Why is he so incompetent, what the fuck?

“Taehug…” At the sound of your voice, soft and nasal from your blocked nose, he spins around to you, heart leaping out his chest in relief. With one eye barely open, you’ve lifted your head as much as you can, clammy hand reaching for his jumper to tug him to you.

“Oh my god, are you okay? What the fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” Wasting not a second, he dives back to your side, fingers interlocking yours in a motion that’s like second nature to him. Jeez, you’re sweaty. “How are you feeling?”

The pale absence of tint in your lips speaks for itself. Your eyes are still not fully open, or more like they can’t be. You regard Taehyung with a slightly confused expression. “Burning. My head is killing me.” It’s barely even a whisper. Taehyung’s heart aches. It aches more knowing just how much pain you must be in to forget your pride and admit your vulnerability out loud. You never do that. Not even that time you fell over on the ice-skating rink and broke your wrist, yet insisted it had hurt no more than a bruise, even though Taehyung had seen how much you were wincing when you thought he wasn’t looking.

“Ah, okay, fuck. I don’t know what to do, Y/N. What do you need? Water? Ice packs? Ibuprofen? Are you hungry? Do you want some cereal?” Taehyung is duly aware of how much he currently resembles a concerned mother fussing over her sick child, but he doesn’t care. He’ll be mother hen if he has to.

“Shh… Too loud, Taehub…” Laboriously lifting your arm as if it weighs two tonnes, you silence him with a finger to his mouth. And he shuts up immediately. He shouldn’t, given the circumstances, but he savours your touch as your finger slides down his bottom lip when your arm drops. “Water, please.”

And like that, Taehyung is sprinting to the kitchen for a cool glass of water for you, ignoring the cold that slaps at his bare feet. He has never looked after a sick person before, this is all very nerve-wracking and stressful for him. He is so fast that he arrives back to you with only half the contents of the glass still contained, the rest spilled during his hurried journey.

Taehyung finds you sat up, looking a little more awake than half a minute ago but no more alive. Your hair is tangled the way it always is in the morning, and your face is puffy the way fluffy pancakes rise - the same way that makes Taehyung want to kiss you all over and tell you how much he likes pancakes and he likes you. But god bless, you’re just sat there, spaced out, staring off at the sloth drawings of your bed sheets, you poor thing.

Something clenches in Taehyung from how you kind of light up when you notice his approach, eyes twinkling and corners of your mouth turning up ever so subtly.

“Here.” He breathes, now especially weary of his volume so not to disrupt you. You jump at the cold that’s pressed on your lips, and take the glass from him as he perches by the bed next to you. Not that there was much to begin with, but you down the water like you do with vodka shots during happy hour. “Better?”

With a great sigh, you shut your eyes and shake your head. “No. I feel like we’re in a furnace, and someone is hammering my head.” There is something very gentle about your voice that Taehyung does not recognise at all. It’s soft, shy even, the completely opposite from the way you normally speak. And from the babyish way your lips are jutted out…

Taehyung doesn’t for a second doubt that the fever is frying your brain. Because your mannerism would never be this mild and soft-spoken in your right mind. You haven’t even sworn once despite the condition you’re in; that’s how he knows with absolute certainty that you’re not yourself.

Just as he is about to suggest taking you to the doctor, you pinch the material of your top and begin peeling it off. It rides up your damp skin to reveal your glistening waist. Higher. Over your ribcage. Higher. The underside swells of your breasts peeking through.

All sensible thought vacates him.

Nowadays, not much can fluster Taehyung anymore, so the attack of heat rushing to his face feels rather foreign, strangely tickling his chest. The female body is a frequent sight for him, especially yours, so this really shouldn’t faze him at all. It’s perhaps the context of this situation, how you are hardly conscious, completely vulnerable and beside yourself.

“Stop.” He catches the material of your rising shirt in your hand. You look at him with a cocked head when you notice his prevention, cheeks red from the fever, confusion worn so genuinely that he chokes. “Fuck- Don’t look at me like that while taking your shirt off. Stop taking your shirt off, even.”

“Look at you like what?” Your voice is soft, its usual cockiness absent. Just pure innocence. It shouldn’t suit you given your typical boisterous character, but it strangely does.

“Lookingatmelikesomeinnocentfuckingkittengoddammit.” He mutters under his breath, staring at the wall to avoid that heart-ruining expression of yours as he tugs your top back down. It takes everything in him not to dwell on those perversions. God, what is wrong with him? This is so completely inappropriate.

“But it’s hot…”

At a moment of weakness, Taehyung takes a glimpse at your face and, lo and behold, immediately gets shot in the heart by your beseeching pout. Not to mention the way you’re whining…

Fuck. Taehyung is going to fucking melt.

“Okay, but don’t take off your shirt just like that. Warn me next time.” He grips onto your shirt as tightly as it takes to ground himself, fist rested on your hip. You’re his friend right now. Nothing more. Stop being a sopping melt.

“Okay, sorry. But can I at least change into new jammies? These are too stuffy.” Disgruntled, you plead, eyes wishfully wide.

Jammies? Jammies? Are you kidding him? Taehyung is this close to banging his head against the wall. Who is this person sitting in front of him right now? Because he has never, never, in his two and a half+ years of knowing you, witnessed you like this. Literally who are you?

“Um, er, okay, so- How about, I’ll let you change into some lighter clothes, then we’ll get you to the doctor. How does that sound?” He tucks your hair neatly behind your ears and pluck on your lobe endearingly.

“What? No, please, no!” You throw your hands up and groan, narrowly missing whacking him on the chin. Now, you’re infamous for your stubbornness against medical care, steadfast to your belief that one’s body is sufficient in recovering itself in most cases. No pain killers, no cough drops, no flu medicine. Taehyung theorises that you like to suffer, gives you a good boost of self esteem knowing that you can endure the pain. He knows what you’re like with your pride and ego.

But now is not the time. “Why not? You’re burning up. Don’t be so headstrong.”

“I don’t want to move.” Sniff.

“I’ll carry you.” That makes you pause.

“Taehyung, no! I don’t wanna go.” Tantrum on the brink of bubbling, as you bang your fists against the mattress and cross your arms, frowning in displeasure at him. Ah, there’s the Y/N he knows. “And you better keep your distance too, or else you’ll catch whatever I have.” Sniff.

“I’ll keep my distance if you let me take you to the doctor.” Two can play this game. Taehyung’s stubbornness isn’t to shabby himself. And though in your past arguments, he has usually always been the one to be lenient and back down, he won’t budge this time.

“Stop being fussy, or I won’t drink any water or take any medicine and-”

“Stop being a brat, or I’ll kiss you right now.”

You shut up right away. It’s hard to suppress the smirk of triumph that overcomes Taehyung. “W-What?” You stammer, visibly shying away from you.

“Did I stutter?” He dares to provoke, before swiftly leaning his face into yours.

“Dude!” Even in your sickly state, your reflexes are quick, hand immediately catching over his mouth before he could kiss you. His face stops, inches away from yours, the only barrier between you being your hand. In such proximity, he can feel the heat melting off you, radiating into his bones. Your eyes, wide and panicked. “Are you crazy? You’re going to get ill too.” Taehyung swears the heavy tint in your cheeks is only partially due to the fever. He smiles against your warm palm, making sure to pucker his lips for emphasis of his intention. You are so fun to fluster.

“Then go to the doctor.” His voice his muffled by your hand.

“You’re so stubborn, god!” Oh, the hypocrisy. “Look. The doctor can’t do anything except give me some medicine to decrease my temperature. But fever is good for the body anyway. It’s optimising the temperature for my immune cells to fight off the bugs. This is gonna pass. Stop worrying.”

Lightly, you shove his face away and slide down the bed until you’re buried neck-deep by the covers, mouth pursed in a tight, irritated pout that Taehyung finds adorable.

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem with me kissing you then, if it’s nothing to worry about.” Taehyung hovers over you, dangerously close, and you quickly cover your own mouth this time. This is a fun game, one that he knows he will win. If there is one thing that can overcome your stubbornness, it’s his own health in jeopardy. And Taehyung doesn’t even feel remotely bad for taking advantage of that.

It’s not that he wants to catch this sickness from you… But if that’s what it takes to threaten you to seek medical help, then he’ll do it a hundred times.

Plus, he misses your lips, okay? It’s a win-win situation for him: either he gets to kiss you, or you let him take you to the doctor. Genius.

For a moment, you just stare back at him, fury brewing in those eyes that are no longer hazy from the fever but ablaze with annoyance and displeasure. But he already knows what your answer will be.

“You’re a bully, Kim Taehyung, you’re a fucking bully. I’m not going to speak to you ever again.”

Taehyung chuckles and hauls you out of bed.

.

You sulk at the way to the hospital, not uttering a single word to Taehyung as you swore you would. He’s kind of impressed, actually. Anything he asks you, you would reply with a nod, shake, or shrug. He guesses it’s a combination of your anger and genuine fatigue and light-headedness.

When he tries to loop his arm around yours in the Uber, you let him, but look out the window as if he isn’t right beside you. Hmpf, so this is what he gets for looking after you. Fine, he can handle it.

“Are you just going to ignore my presence, baby?” The pet name is intentional, to tease you further and see if you would break your silence to tell him off.

You don’t fall for it.

Instead, you briefly turn to him, give him a daggered look that says I’ll never suck you off again, and turn back around, pretending to find the empty streets wildly interesting.

“Fine, baby girl. Suit yourself.” Taehyung catches the driver’s amused eyes in the rearview mirror. Something along the lines of: women, am I right? He smiles and rests his head on yours for the rest of the ride.

Upon arrival to the hospital, you silently storm out of the car and register at the reception. Taehyung doesn’t quite understand why you’re so mad, and what exactly you have against doctors that appears to be so personal, but he is finding this rather entertaining.

The two of you are ushered to the waiting room by a kind-looking nurse roughly of his mother’s age, the type of kind that makes you want to pour your heart out and entrust her with all your secrets.

Still not a peep from you. Though many sniffs.

“How are you feeling right now?” He asks as he sits himself down on the seat next to you. It could be wishful thinking but your eyes soften when you look at him. You throw him a thumbs down before returning to the form you are intently filling out.

You are startled when Taehyung takes your chin in his long fingers, pulls you slightly closer to him and plants his lips on your fever-heated cheek. “I’ll get you some water then.” He gets up before he can dwell too long on your reaction, the way you are completely frozen, pen nib pressed so hard on the paper that a blodge of ink has oozed out of the ballpoint. If he dwells too long, he thinks his heart might do a funny thing.

As he walks towards the water dispenser in the corner of the room, he passes the nurse again, who smiles knowingly at him as she heads towards where you are sitting, no doubt to check up on you. God, he wants to spill all his feelings to this nurse. She reminds him of his grandmother when he was young.

Taehyung returns with a cup of cool water, this one more full than the one he’d poured for you this morning. He finds you chatting quietly to the nurse, the face mask she had just handed you resting around your chin, oblivious to his approach.

“You are lucky to have such a great boyfriend, young lady. Trust me, he’s a keeper.” The nurse muses at her.

Taehyung fully expects you to scoff or choke on your own spit, stand up and yell at the clueless woman: WHAT THE FUCK, HE IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND. EW. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Because that has totally happened before; people tend to mistaken you two as a couple everywhere you go.

Except... You just blink at the nurse, rather blankly as if trying to comprehend her words. Then you nod.

Just nod.

The paper cup almost slips out of Taehyung’s hand.

“Love, the way he looks at you? Anyone would die to be looked at like that.” The nurse continues.

Taehyung rushes to your side before she can say more.

“Here. Water.” Clearing his throat, he hands you the cup without making any eye contact. He hopes he’s not blushing but the heat rushing to his face says otherwise. When he glances up at the nurse, she is smiling at him as if she knows exactly what is going on in his mind.

“Thanks.” You whisper.

Oh, so you’re back to speaking to him now. Is it because of what she said? When your eyes meet, something clicks. An emotional click that tells him that your annoyance towards him had been a mask for your genuine gratitude. Taehyung’s chest is fuzzy with relief.

Not long later, you are called to the doctor’s room. Taehyung sits waiting for you outside, silently pondering the nurse’s words and your lack of protest.

.

“Come on, Y/N, what’s the point of going to the doctors if you aren’t going to take the medicine they prescribe you?” Taehyung lets out a rumble of frustration. A bottle of water and a packet of pills clutched in one hand, he is this close to plucking his hair out.

“The point of going to the doctors was to get you not to kiss me and catch the same flu. The doctor said this virus is contagious, and could still be at this stage.” Your voice, nasal from your blocked nose, is stifled further by the face mask. Changed into a t-shirt and shorts so you don’t sweat through your clothes again - yes, the shorts, the heatwave shorts - you cross your arms and roll to the other side of the bed. Taehyung’s hand is itching to spank your ass pink.

“That means I’ll probably get ill anyway in the next few days. We literally kissed yesterday.” He points out, and it might be psychological but his head is beginning to hurt a little. Of course, he wouldn’t dare tell you or else you’d turn this around and be the one fussing over him. “Come here.”

Taehyung locks his fingers around your ankles and drags you back towards him, ignoring your feeble squeak. He gives in and smacks your butt lightly.

“Oi!” You twist around and kick the shackles of his grip off. “You dare hit the sick?! My head is killing me as it is.” Sniff.

“Oh, so you admit that you’re sick? Why don’t you take the medicine then?” Forcing you onto his lap, he wrestles your battling arms and hold them in place behind your body. In any other situation, he would be awfully turned on right now. Something about your brattiness is a kink to him.

With the rest of your face covered by the mask, your eyes are fiercely emanating your obstinate defiance. It should be a scary look, your death glare, but after this long, anything you do in Taehyung’s eyes has been reduced to animated cuteness. He feels like he’s the only one who could go up against you like this without cowering. You’ve stopped struggling against his grip now, rather sulking as you’re perched on his thighs. He doesn’t hesitate that you’re unconsciously pouting behind that mask.

“Because I promise I’m going to feel better. Medicine is for the weak. The doctor said herself that the fever will subside tomorrow! Then what’s the point of administering these extra chemicals into my body if I’m recovering on my own?” You whine.

“To help you recover better!”

“Flu medicine is a scam. You’re too gullible-”

“Do you love or care about me at all?”

You tense at his abrupt question that appears out of the blue. “Well... yeah. You-You’re my best friend. Which is why I don’t want you falling sick too, so just shoo.” You’re squirming, trying to brush off your initial surprise at his question which is all the more accentuating your bashfulness. Taehyung just wants to kiss, god dammit.

“Then don’t you know that it’s killing me to see you in pain like this? To see my best friend burning up with a fever and refusing to let me look after her? Are you seriously that cold-hearted to let me suffer like this if you claim to love and care about me?”

Yes, Taehyung is playing this game. Emotional manipulation? Yes. Probably a little bit of a dick move? Yes. But does he care as long as it does the trick? No.

“Bro, you can’t use this against me. Just let me suffer, I like to suffer, this fever feels fucking fantastic.” When he lets your wrists go, you punch his arm lightly, frowning, though he can see the tiniest spark of amusement in your pupils. Not to mention the rise in your cheeks that indicates your attempt in hiding a smile.

“Shut up and be a good girl, or I’ll kiss you right now.” Hands running up your bare legs, he tugs you closer by the hip before resting his arms around your waist. Though you’re arching away, he sees your cheeks rise even higher.

“Stop trying to kiss me.” You groan overdramatically and try to wriggle away; you would think he’s the one with the illness from how much you’re trying to get away from him. When you proceed to clamp both hands over your masked mouth, Taehyung knows he’d sooner receive the ball of your foot to his temple than be able to feel your lips at this rate.

Okay fine, different approach. “I’ll cut my hair off.”

“What? No-nO. Dude that’s not fair, what the fuck?” Your whole body falls limp in defeat in his arms as you wail. Taehyung can’t help but laugh. “Okay I will take the stupid medicine. Please don’t cut your hair.”

“Okay, good girl.” Humming against your neck, he tries to hide the smug grin of his victory. “On one more condition though.”

“Wow, you’re literally using my love for your hair as blackmail, you dick. Spit it out.” He feels your fingers sink through his long untamed curls, tips massaging his scalp like your lover. Taehyung sometimes feels like you love his hair as if it is a completely separate entity from him, like if you could marry his hair, you would.

“Let me kiss your mouth.” He looks up at you, craned neck and sheepish smile. He knows he’s being unfairly demanding, especially of someone who is ill. But it’s been over 12 hours since you have last kissed. 12 hours. Come on. He’s only human.

“Taehyung, I swear to G-” If your legs weren’t straddled around him, he knows his chest would be met with your foot.

“And I swear to God I’ll get a buzz cut.” Not even bluffing. Every other guy goes through a crisis at some point in their life and gets a god awful buzz cut. Nothing special.

“OH MY GOD- NO. BUZZCUT? NO. Okay, okay, quickly kiss me over the mask, then I’ll take the fucking meds.” The utter horror and mortification that detonates across your face has Taehyung cackling. In the back of his mind, he wonders if you’d still like him with no hair. He’s sometimes afraid that you wouldn’t. But then again, he has vomited on your face before, yet you still like him. So there’s that.

“Wait over the mask?” It just registers with him what you said.

“I’m all gross. You don’t want to kiss me on the lips anyway.” Your gaze falls as you sniffle for probably the thousandth time today, hand reaching to scratch the back of your neck but dropping it right away when you realise that it’s a nervous tick.

Taehyung sighs. “Over the mask is better than no kiss. I’ll take it.”

As his face approaches yours, he is keenly aware that you’re unwilling to meet his eyes. Cute. Soon, your eyes are level with each other, yet you only dare peer at his nose. He boops his nose to yours, breath separated only by the thin material of the mask, waiting for you to lean in.

But when you make no move to initiate it, Taehyung smiles. God, since when did you become so shy. He knows he tends to have this effect on people but since when did he turn you into a blushing, eye-avoiding mess?

He doesn’t expect much when he places his mouth over yours. The gauzy material of the mask grazes his lips, smelling like the overly-sanitised stench of hospital. So he is surprised to find something in him tingle slightly, even despite such physical obstruction of intimacy. The white fabric folds over the curve of your lips to mould with his. He feels a rush of cool from the sharp inhale through your nose.

He pulls away sooner than you want. Your expression is confused by the short duration of the kiss, so not what you expected and is used to.

“I’m sorry, that’s not going to do it for me.” Taehyung rasps. And with that, he pinches the mask down and presses fully onto your lips.

Your heat that greets him sends a surge down his spine. Jeez, you are burning. But he’s pretty sure he is too, from the way he can hear his blood pounding in his ear. You are completely static at first, frozen in place from shock of his boldness. He can wager what exactly is going on in your head. This boy. This boy has some fucking nerve.

And that is correct, he does have some fucking nerve.

But soon, you are kissing him back, probably not out of your own free will but simply from the natural instinct that overrides you when met with his lips. Nowadays, kissing each other feels like sinking into your bed after a long day at college. Comfortable, heart-warming. Kissing other people doesn’t feel half as nice, just like how no bed ever feels like your bed.

Taehyung can sense how much you’ve been longing for this as well from the low gentle vibrations of your throat as you purr. Your entire face is a few degrees hotter than it normally is, and worry is gnawing at the back of his brain almost irrationally. Because he knows that as much as you are bickering with him and acting playful, your head must be hammering. The last time he’d checked, your temperature was still 39˚C.

He has to be the one to pull away again. “You’re burning.” He watches your eyes linger on his glistening lips before glancing up. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine…” You whisper, leaning up to peck his lips several more times. There are moments where Taehyung’s heart completely clenches, like seizes. You say you don’t want to kiss him for his own good, yet here you are savouring his taste like you can’t get enough. Fuck. Taehyung is feeling things.

“Are you sure? Here, take this.” He passes you the bottle of water and packet of medication that were carelessly tossed to the side when he was busy holding you. Without protest, out of fear for the fate of Taehyung’s hair no doubt, you pop a pill out of its foil bubble. “Two pills at once, three times a day.”

“Yes, dad.” You roll your eyes and put them in your mouth, swallowing without so much of a gag.

Taehyung sucks in. “Don’t say the d-word.”

“Wh- I purposely said dad, not daddy.” Flabbergasted by his implication, you scoff and remove yourself from his lap, rolling back under the covers until no more than a burrito with your face peeking out. “I can’t believe you are even thinking about that, nympho.” Sniff again, though you make no effort to put your mask back up.

“Hey, I’ve been so good, I was just warning you! That’s a triggering word for me.” Taehyung joins you under the cool duvet. “You have absolutely zero right to call me a nympho. Do I have to remind you of the time you called me out of my lecture so we could fuck in the toilets in the middle of a school day? Or that time in the library-”

“Shhh. I’m ill, my memory is a little hazy.” You smile, rather wholesomely, at him.

Sometimes, when he looks at you, he can look through the narrow windows of your ego and view the persona that lie within. Just a girl who loves kisses and cuddles and making bad decisions at 3am.

And maybe a girl who loves him.

.

You fall asleep fairly quickly after the medication. One would have thought that would give Taehyung plenty of time to make use of his day, maybe start an abstract painting or finish his coursework due in a week and a half. But nope.

Taehyung has discovered that he has an extremely irrational fear of you being sick. He simply couldn’t stop himself from going into your room every 15 minutes, making sure that you’re still breathing and placing cold towels on your sweat-beaded forehead to help your temperature drop. You are in deep sleep, shallow breaths, no eye movement. He may have snuck in a few cheek kisses just to check if you’re really asleep, and you were. He still kissed you a bit more anyway.

After a whole evening of restlessness, he finally decides to give up and go to bed. He debates sleeping with you, just for his own peace of mind, but you probably want your own space anyway.

So, after brushing his teeth and changing into his so-called jammies - he will give you shit for that once you feel better - he quietly creeps into your room one last time with a fresh towel. With soundless steps, he perches lightly on the edge of your bed, eyes adjusting to the pitch darkness.

This time, you wince slightly at the cold wetness of the towel, rousing, but not completely conscious.

“Taehyung?” Your voice is incredibly hoarse, barely a croak, so he scrambles for your bottle of water and feeds it to you.

“Hey, it’s me.” He murmurs softly, and resumes wiping your forehead gently.

“Wh… are you do..g here?” Incoherent syllables indicate how you’re mostly still asleep.

“Looking after my baby. I’ll go to bed and leave you to rest soon.”

When your hand abruptly flies up and clamps around his, Taehyung jumps. You’re freezing. “No. Don’t go, please.”

His mind doesn’t know what to respond to first, your sudden cold sweats, or your request for him to stay. His chest squeezes. “I- H- You’re freezing, Y/N.”

“I know, but please stay.” In the dark, Taehyung can only barely make out the shape of your face and see that your eyes are still shut. Maybe you’re dreaming.

Please stay.

“Okay, don’t worry, of course I’ll stay. But just please tell me how you’re feeling?” He climbs in at the other side of the bed and presses his palm on your neck. Your temperature regulation is fucked up by this fever. Seeing you like this makes something in him crack.

“Finenowthatyou’rehere.” You snuggle up to his chest and mumble into his hoodie, already beginning to fall back into heavy slumber.

Chest squeeze, again.

Taehyung feels his own heart pounding. These words of endearment are rare from you; he’s going to hold on to them for as long as he can. He plants a kiss on your forehead. “Of course I’m here. I’m always here.”

He is such a sap, he knows, a hopeless fool. But you’re his missing part, he feels it in his bones. He hopes that he’s yours too.

Then you mutter something inaudible into his chest. The iciness of your touch flails his back as your hands reach beneath his hoodie to hold him tighter. There’s something about the way the scene is set, how you’re delirious from your fever, clinging onto him in complete darkness of your room. Taehyung’s emotions are flooding.

“What was that?”

“I love you so much, Taehyung.”

His brain short-circuits entirely. It just switches off.

I

Love

You

So

Much,

Taehyung.

Words that he’d never expected to hear from you, not tonight, not any time in the near future, and certainly not unprovoked like this, utterly at your own accord.

Then his brain turns itself back on again, and is instantly swept away by the chaos that breaks out. “W... What do you mean by that?” He needs to know that he’s interpreting this correctly and rather than hearing what he wants to hear.

“Mmmm...” You groan sleepily. Taehyung shouldn’t take this too seriously right? You’re not even in your right mind. Your head is still buried in him, inhaling his scent like he is your oxygen. “You know what I mean. I just mean I love you a lot more than I love myself.” Sniff. “I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.”

I love you a lot more than I love myself. I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.

Taehyung feels a sting in his eye, what the fuck.

He isn’t moving. He doesn’t think he can. And so you just lay there in each other’s arms, in complete silence, but also not silence because you had just declared your love for him and all his thoughts are screaming.

What the fuck is ‘I love you big and tall and wide’? He fucking loves you big and tall and wide too.

Okay. Okay. Let’s stay calm.

No. He loves you.

He has loved you for a very long time, and a part of him has always known. It’s you. It’s always you. The way you met. The way you found each other. The way everything fell in place in his life after you. It’s fate. It’s all fate. And it’s all you. Because Taehyung is not a violent person by any means, but he would kill for you, he would do anything for you. It scares him.

And that’s just the funny way that love works. A lot of the times, it is standing right there in front of you, waving its hands and shouting for you attention. And you dismiss it at first because you mistake it for friendship, even though there’s an inkling in you that has considered the possibility that it’s more than that. So you go about your life, day by day with this person who you love but don’t know you love yet, collecting your little moments together into a heart-shaped glass jar without realising it. Until one day you look at the jar and see that it’s completely full.

His heart is full. His heart is full of you.

He doesn’t know what to do or what that means. He isn’t even sure of his own feelings, whether it is a heat of the moment confusion, or a cauldron of bubbling emotions at the brim of spillage.

But no, he is sure.

He knows that he loves you. He knows it.

Because why else would nothing boil his blood more than the sight of you in the arms of someone else? Why else would nothing hurt more than seeing you in pain like this? Why else would nothing bring him more joy than simply sitting next to you, being able to touch you, making you laugh? And why else would it feel like he can spend the rest of forever just looking at you, memorising your details while you play with his hair that you love so much?

He loves you.

It is perhaps the darkness that gives him such courage, because he gathers himself and says, “I love you. So fucking much, I love you, Y/N. I thought I knew what love was before you, I thought I was happy and content with my life. But now, I can’t even remember what I was like without you. Because that guy wasn’t me. I’m not me without you. And I love you. I entirely belong to you. And I love you.

“I love you a lot more than I love myself. I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.”

And it’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest. His insides aren’t twisted into knots anymore. Suddenly, he can see with such clarity. In the dark, he only sees you.

He sees you fast asleep against his chest. Arms looped around his waist in a way that makes him never want to leave his bed.

Taehyung takes a deep breath and exhales. Maybe from relief.

You are asleep. You hadn’t heard.

Yes, he is definitely relieved. He doesn’t think he’s ready to face the consequences of his feelings yet if he had really just poured his heart out to you. You probably didn’t mean it that way anyway; he is overthinking.

But the ‘I love you so much, Taehyung.’ The heartfelt passion in your voice could not have been his imagination.

So, with a great sigh, he makes use of the fact that you’re asleep to rehearse it a few more times.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

.

02/02/19

© Copyright 2020

.

@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365 @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams @camilaxpolanco​ @d-noona​ @haechanspudu​ @dawnispeace​she

[katsukikitten]

Steak out

A/N ANOTHER ONE enjoy this thirst text theme I've got going on. Probs the last one for awhile BBs. Hope yall enjoy this one. Somehow I involved my husband again...

Deku sits hunched over his notes muttering in the confined space of the car.

A slam on the dashboard has his sole leaving his body.

"Would you shut the FUCK UP?!" Bakugou yells, steam rising from the palm that struck the cheap dashboard. Scarlet burns hot, hot enough to cut into emerald.

After a long moment Bakugou readjusts himself, slumping further in the driver's seat but still having a good view of the building ahead.

"It's bad enough the director wants me to steak this shit out let alone with your mumbling ass." Bakugou snarls, hating that he is stuck in this claustrophobic space that only gets heavier with every uttered whisper. The car sits in a shadowed alley facing what seems to be an abandoned warehouse.

Even in broad day light the broken glass and tattered boards gave Izuku the creeps. He sighs, staring at his partner before going back to his notes.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out.

*"The pictures I asked for are late, little Prince."*

Deku swallows thickly, he had been in the car all night and half the day. There was no way he was going to be able to get them to you.

*"I'm still on a job."*

He sweats before frantic fingers dash across the screen to add

*"My Mistress."*

But he believes he sent it too late, three dots in a bubble disappear and reappear several times before a message comes through.

*"I don't tolerate excuses or attitude little Prince. Send the pictures now or expect punishment."*

*"Mistress please!"*

*"Now!"*

Izuku's palms sweat, he clearly cannot afford to piss you off anymore. You had given a specific deadline and with plenty of notice.

But he thought he could get away with not sending them, it's not as if the two of you were dating.

More like fooling around, testing boundaries.

Plus he had just been avoiding it, not liking the way he has been looking lately, which is exactly why you assigned it. Izuku squirms in his seat earning a glare from his partner.

"If you've got to fucking piss use the alley damn it!" Bakugou shoves him into the door and for once Izuku is glad for the roughness.

Bakugou gave him a good idea.

"I'll..I'll be right back."

"It'd be okay if you weren't..."

Izuku takes his phone with shaking hands down the alley way just enough to be out of sight.

He lifts his shirt just a tad sending you a picture of himself showing off only the bottom two abs, sure to have his pants up over his light V.

He frowns, wishing he hadn't sent it before a message from you pops up.

*"Good first step but I want more."*

He leaves it on read for a moment before another comes in with a picture attached.

Izuku instantly blushes, cheeks burning with embarrassment and hot desire.

You're sitting on the edge your couch, skirt pulled up past your thick thighs and nice ass, tights ripped open, showcasing your fingers stroking your heavenly form.

*"Come on little Prince. Mistress isn't going to use her imagination to cum."*

*"You want to be a good boy and help me cum right?"*

He palms himself at the thought, hardly ever getting to touch you except when you decide to use his face as your throne.

He tries another picture only pulling his shirt up a bit more still avoid his V or showing his face.

*"I know you can do better...Don't my pictures make you want to cream your pants wishing it were me?"*

This time a selfie of your own fingers in your mouth, clearly tasting yourself for him.

He can taste it now, the sweetness on his tongue does have precum forming.

"Nnngghh." He groans, frustrating himself trying to get any good picture, angling his phone this way and that.

Only for you to encourage that you want more.

You send another dirty photo of you, two fingers spreading yourself.

*"Only good boys get to taste this. Very good boys get to fuck it. Now where is your confidence prince?"*

He has half a mind to be disobedient, ignoring your last order to not cum without you present, whether it be video chat or in person.

He has half a mind to just ignore your text messages and ease the ache in his pants. He palms himself again.

"OI!" The shout behind him causes him to jump, enough that he tosses his *unlocked* phone.

The very same phone that lands unharmed at the feet of a hot head.

Oh

Fuck

"Bakugou wow, so funny seeing you here with my phone! I'llbeneedingitbacknowthanks!" He strings the last part together rushing to snatch it but its too late.

Bakugou must have seen what you've sent, especially since his mouth is twisted up in a deadly smile.

"Fucking around with Y/LN huh?" He asks before noticing something.

"Do..do you not know how to send a nude or semi nude?" He scoffs and when Izuku turns beet red Bakugou comes up with an idea.

"Why don't we show your *mistress* how good of a boy you are okay Prince?" Bakugou asks, cornering Deku against the wall.

The nick name coming from his friends lips is doing something odd to his chest.

The same feeling he got when you first called him that.

"Ah Kaachan what are you?"

"Trust me." He says lifting his shirt all the way before putting it into his mouth, biting it while angling his head up slightly.

His scarlet eyes look into the camera and the gaze he is giving it even has butterflies in Izuku's stomach. He watches Bakugou hit send.

You open your phone to see a sinful picture of Bakugou.

Your core melts further as your eyes flutter over the image. The hard V points to mouth watering sin, a faint ash blonde happy trail further guiding you before your eyes finally travel up.

Slowly over each perfectly sculpted ab, one nipple is covered while the other is exposed thanks to the hot head securing the fabric between snarled teeth, eyes leaded heavy with lust.

Your heat clenches on it's own, you've always had a desire for Bakugou as well.

A message comes in.

*"Are you playing with another Dom, little one?"*

Bakugou smirks wildly as the idea forms. He had played with you before and he loved the idea of you painted with jealousy. Whether it be from his hands touching another or because his hands were touching your current toy.

He blasts the wall across from the two of them, removing a brick to hold Izuku's phone perfectly before pulling his shirt over the top of his head.

"Ka..kaachan." Izuku stammers and damn did he look cute. Flustered and stuttering Bakugou's nickname, his smirk becomes deadlier.

Two birds with one stone.

"Hush, *prince*." Bakugou snarls, ripping open Izuku's shirt right down the middle. Pulling it slightly off his shoulders, a deadly hand popping with anticipation before smoothing it over abs, feathering over Izuku's soft V before letting his fingers settle just beneath the band of his boxers.

The timer should go off any second and Bakuou needed Deku to make the perfect face.

Bakugou drags his capable tongue up the side of Izuku's cheek, sure to keep his eyes trained over his shoulder at the camera.

He can feel Deku's rapid pulse before removing his hands from such warm smooth skin, grabbing onto the phone more than happy with the shot.

He sends it with a Kingly caption.

*"Yes this little Prince is my toy now, Brat."*

"Ka..kaachan you're going to make Mistress upset. You need to address her appropriatly." Izuku defends your honor only to be seized by the throat and shoved agaisnt rough brick.

Katuski applies just enough pressure to Izuku's rapid pulse, careful to avoid his fragile larynx.

The same thing Bakugou used to do to you. Izuku's eyes flutter and the blonde can tell that he is close to sub space.

A text rings out on Izuku's phone that is still in Bakugou's hand.

"I'm her master so that makes me *your* master. You'll address me as King just as that brat should." He squeezes before letting go, "Don't let that little kitten corrupt you, prince. We have a mission to finish."

Izuku watches a broad back with mixed emotions, he trails slowly behind.

"K...king Katuski. What do you mean you're mistress's master? She said she was single."

Katsuki sighs before opening the door for Deku, make sure that when he steps into the car he does not bump his emerald head. The blond leans into the car, close to Deku's face.

"Fuck..." He hisses as he studies Izuku, "You're like fucking truth serum. She technically is single but she's my bratty ass Kitten. She can be your mistress too."

Bakugou shuts the door glancing down at the bright glass in his hand, a smile returning to his lips before he settles in the car.

*"Guess who just came without your permission King. I should be rewarded though I found us another play mate."* 👅😜

You pant, not believing your luck. The last picture sending you over the edge in seconds with blurred vision of black stars.

God damn he was too good.

Teasing you with your own toy, you slam your head agaisnt the head of the couch. Hating that you have a need to be a brat and a need to dominate/ help build the confidence of another.

You bite your lip in anticipation for a reply.

Your phone chimes and you unlock it at super human speed.

"Guess you'll have to see whether you'll get rewarded or punished tonight. Be on time. I'll have our little Prince waiting, Kitten."

[howdoyousleep3]

I saw a gifset of Steve this morning and just can't stop thinking about him in those fucking khakis where he looks like a damn football coach. And I've been thinking about bratty bb Bucky teasing him about wearing khakis and pushing him until Steve finally pushes back.

Okay, you sent me spiraling with the words “damn football coach” because all I can picture are the hands on the hips, an exasperated sigh, and a fist pump so...thanks. 

But honestly I bet bb Buck would make fun of Steve the first moment he saw Steve walk out of the closet in khakis. Maybe it’s a dressier weekend something or an evening somewhere but we know Steve normally dresses up in a suit and tie for work. On weekends he wears jeans or clothes around the home (I normally write him in pajamas or sweats) so for Steve to walk out in khakis? 

Game over, Bucky’s eyebrows hit the top of his head on sight. 

He doesn’t say anything really, wouldn’t be that straightforward, but the look he gives Steve alone would have the older man throwing his hands out a little, stopping. 

“What?” 

“Umm...do you...when...have you always had khakis?” 

Steve would look down at himself, look back up at Bucky. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“I’ve just umm...I’ve never seen you in them?” 

And Steve would smirk, put his hands on his hips. 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, you look like a football coach...” 

And that isn’t at all what Steve thought Bucky was going to say, his own eyebrows taking their turn to knit together. Steve is almost certain he has worn khakis before, is sure it’s just slipping Bucky’s mind. And...well Bucky doesn’t have to like everything that Steve wears but let’s be honest-- this throws Steve for a loop. 

“What you don’t like ‘em?”

By the way Bucky rubs the back of his neck Steve already knows his answer. 

“Steve, you look like you’re about to hype me up and tell me some shit like ‘You play to win the game, Barnes’...” 

Well, that’s a little uncalled for, albeit a little hilarious. Steve walks up to Bucky, a little cocky and sure of himself, watches as Bucky’s smirk fades with each step Steve takes towards him. 

“Y’should see my ass in these khakis, Barnes. Then maybe that’d shut you up...” 

Bucky knows he’s joking, knows it’s all play, but Steve looks down at him with such sudden authority Bucky almost wants to tag on a “Yes, Coach...” to Steve’s words. It’s absolutely ridiculous the way two wide hands on a set of narrow hips and thighs clad in khakis can make Bucky’s knees go wobbly. 

It’s infuriating. 

What’s more infuriating is how much Bucky grows to like them throughout the day, how he can’t stop looking at that ass, those thighs, can’t stop his mind from conjuring up the cheesiest locker room fantasies he can imagine. His mind wanders, his hand even wanders at one point, much to Steve’s delight. Walking through the grocery store, through the hushed aisles of a bookstore, in the coffee shop they stop in-- Bucky can’t keep his eyes off those khakis. 

Bucky hates how his mouth waters, hates how he feels like he wants to be good, wants to present on all fours in the presence of such an Alpha Male. Bucky loves Steve in jeans, always will, but there’s something about him in these fucking khakis and the way they stretch over Daddy’s thighs, the way they cup Steve’s package deliciously, that makes him want to spread his own legs wide. 

It’s infuriating. 

What’s even more infuriating is how smug Steve looks when Bucky is on his knees later, mouth wet and chin dripping with his own spit as he slurps on Daddy’s balls, hands sliding up khaki-clad thighs. Steve doesn’t say anything about the khakis but he doesn’t have to, doesn’t need to when Daddy’s looking down at him with a hefty smirk, telling him he’s a sweet boy. Bucky wants to tell him to shut the fuck up but that would mean he has to use his mouth for something other than sucking on Daddy’s fat cock and that’s...

That’s infuriating. 

[inkykeiji]

Congratulations on the milestone! 💖 You deserve every single follower and then some! I’ve never asked for a matchup before but your Halloween idea is so cute I can’t resist! 😭 I’m about 5’4”, curvy, (bleach) blonde, blue eyes, WAP is my theme song, Halloween is hands down my favorite holiday and I religiously watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show every year! It’s tradition! For boys ... Kuroo, Ukai or Iwaizumi! 🥰 Thank you and congrats again!

thank u bb!!!! <33333 ily lots!! oh god u chose all daddies

i match you with ⇢ ukai keishin! based on what i know about u, i feel like your personalities would really compliment each other; you’re both strong individuals and very steadfast in your beliefs and values without being too stubborn (tho i think you’d be a lil less stubborn than he would ehehe). but he’d also totally baby you—like you would absolutely make him soft + get to see a side of him that not many others have had the privilege of experiencing <33 and obv he wouldn’t hesitate to put you in your place when you begin getting bratty 😈

what you carve into your pumpkin ⇢  a kickass skeleton and a kickass mummy. both are detailed, but not to the point where it’s frustrating to carve. they turn out amazing, and he thinks your excitement over them is just the cutest darn thing 🥺

which halloween candy you eat the most of ⇢  whoppers or twix!

couples costume ⇢ k i mean obviously u gotta be magenta and riff raff,,,, gotta keep w that incest theme u know??? OR goldilocks and papa bear 👀 v sexy of u

how you celebrate halloween ⇢ he’s never seen rocky horror (a literal crime, and you tell him so) thus you continue your tradition and go to see a special screening at a drive-in, complete with every single fan ritual—rice, water guns, cards, glow sticks, newspapers, toast, rubber gloves... the list goes on. he won’t know any of the verbal responses, since he’s a total rocky horror virgin, but he has fun nonetheless and he absolutely loves seeing how into it you get (he totally gets super soft, just loves to see the excitement on your face and the way ur eyes shine, but he’d totally blush and grumble if u pointed it out)! afterwards, you’d go hang out at a bar or a party with a few mutual friends n enjoy some rad halloween themed drinks <3

clari’s 1k halloween matchups! 👻

[neokollection]

NSFW A - Z ㅡ Yuta (M)

Taeil  -  Johnny  -  Taeyong  -  Yuta  -  Kun  -  Doyoung  -  Jungwoo  -  Lucas

A/N: More requested than Romantic Gestures with Jeno bb was this- Nasties xx Assuming you’re dating-

A ㅡ Aftercare

Depends on his mood & the circumstances of your sex, but most of the time he’s pretty attentive [unless it was some weird possessive jealousy quickie- & he’s actually holding a grudge of some kind from being ‘wronged’].  He does this thing with people where he rubs his head against them like a cat of some kind... So I think after the act he’s a big nuzzler, nuzzling against your shoulder from beside you as he latches to your side before beaming at you brightly. He’s a gentleman also and willing to fetch you a gallon of water or start a shower for you if you request it- But otherwise he just showers you in cutesy affection in bed like a school girl.

B - Body [ their favorite body part on their s/o and/or on them ]

On you he’d probably say something odd like your back. The way it arches is sexy and the dip of your spine is too, plus it’s part of your figure. He always likes to keep his hands on it, even when holding your waist, his fingertips dig into the curve of your back. On himself... Maybe his face. He knows he’s beautiful and he’s proud of it. Plus he knows you love to kiss it and cradle it and he loves it too, it feels the most intimate.

C - Cum

He’s kinda messy with it. He just lets it land wherever it goes and it’s all hot to him. It’s also kind of a tool to him, he can do so much with it and loves it all, yours or his; exchange it between kisses, paint your skin with it, just play with it between his fingers, etc... He likes to play with his food, especially this delicacy.

D - Dirty Secret

He has plenty, but I think he fantasizes a lot about lesbian porn- And the thought of watching you be with another girl... Even if he could film it, that’d be-

E - Experience [ how experienced they are ]

E is for enough. Part of it is experience, part porn, part of it is also just natural- He’s good at reading expressions and bodies... I believe in NCT he’d make me cum the hardest and most, change my mind-

F - Favorite Position

Missionary where he can hold your ankles at his shoulders and just roll into you.

G - Goofy

He’s not serious when it comes to sex, but he’s not goofy either. He’s just... kind of seductive bratty and witty? But there aren’t many goofy moments unless it’s a 2nd round and fluffy.

H - Hair [ how well they manscape ]

Ummmmmmmmmm- Just trimming really. He thinks a bit of hair is masculine for him.

I - Intimacy [ romance-wise ]

Again, depends on the situation, sometimes romantic, sometimes just fucking. I would say about 90% of the time it starts out romantic and only maybe 55% of the time does it maintain that romance- As in kissing and him being tender, ‘I love you’s, etc...

J - Jack Off

Probably is one to tell you sometimes when he’s about to. He likes to look at your naughty pictures first and palm himself as he remembers the last time you came over.  When no one is home he’s probably loud/doesn’t care and doesn’t care to make a mess either, he wants it as wild and high as he can get it. If ppl are home it’s a different story obviously, but he probably doesn’t try to hide it that much and doesn’t care if the other guys know bc they do it too.

K - Kinks

Okay, if you’re kind of an outgoing person when it comes to sexual he likes it when you get kind of shy- If there’s something he can say to make you blush or something, he thinks it’s a different side and really cute- And if you’re a more shy person naturally he likes it when you switch to be a more confident person in the sheets. He likes filming you and telling you what to do as well as hair pulling, rough sex, orgasm denial, teasing, blindfolds, the whole lot.

L - Location [ their favorite place to have sex ]

The sink. It’s a little uncomfortable for you, but he likes taking you from behind there and watching in the mirror. Next prolly the couch.

M - Motivation [ turn-ons ]

NVDES!!!1 And sexting too with just words or over the phone-  AKA you ever being naughty. Also... denying him. He can see sometimes you want it, but you’re being stubborn and denying him or playing hard to get and that’s a challenge to him so he wants to play.

N - NO [ turn-offs ] 

Toys, not all of them, but some things like dildos he hasn’t really found the craze over... He thinks he’s equipped already with the tools to do what that does, so why does he need it? Or why do you want him to use it??? [Use it when you’re alone, not with him].  Also exhibitionism, he is very protective and doesn’t want anyone else to see his most prized possessions [on you]. He wants you to only be a slut for him, not for others entertainment.

O - Oral [ giving and receiving ]

He’s a generous giver :’) He really takes his time to savor you, but also isn’t particularly slow or light. He doesn’t mind getting a bit messy, he just wants to give you the best, to impress you. Lots of biting mixed in too--- and eye contact on another fucking level. Teasing too, I’m so sorry... When receiving he’s very... it’s like all the self-control he had when teasing you flew out the window and he’s actually desperate. Head does that to him. His back hunching over and actually tangling his fingers in your hair as his jaw falls slack before he murmurs something- Can control himself from thrusting into your mouth either when he feels it close. Would probably baby you after because he feels lowkey bad he gagged you a few times and didn’t warn you when he came.

P - Pace

Once he’s got you wet and stretched enough to get in he does like 5 slow languid thrusts before going to town. Even if it’s sensual and lazy sex, he still is a rabid humper.

Q - Quickies

Probably happen a decent amount of times with him. But he’s also good with disciplining himself to tease you and wait until home. However.... he likes to give into you sometimes or if he’s needy himself and begging for some- things happen. Usually involve weird positions due to the space and lots of teasing both before and after it.

R - Risk [ comfort zone ]

Some things with him may seem risky, but he wouldn’t actually do anything risky enough for the two of you to actually be caught. He sure as hell makes risky bets with you though. He’s very perceptive so he’s able to notice things that make a situation less risky, but doesn’t tell you, so you think there’s a risk of getting caught.

S - Stamina [ another round? ]

So-so? Usually it’s just one round, but that round could be long with lots of foreplay and starting/stopping. He needs time to recuperate.

T - Toy [ their favorite toys ]

Like I said before, he’s picky about toys, but probably enjoys using vibrators and vibrating panties he can control- Hell it even feels good when you use it on him-

U - Unfair [ how they enjoy teasing & being teased ]

King tease. He enjoys using his words, getting you riled about talking about you look so cute he could eat you. He uses fleeting touches too that may or may not be subtle. Teases you a lot during the act too, to the point of wanting you to beg- Asking if you really want it bc he doesn’t think you’re being loud enough to enjoy it or something.. Manipulative. And getting you to admit things like; he’s the best, or you like something particularly nasty he’s doing when he sees your being stubborn about admitting it. He likes to play with his food and break it. If he’s being teased, he enjoys it verbally, when you tell him you’re not wearing any panties, etc... But physically and during the act he can only take so much.. His patience gets thin when it comes to this and he’d probably resort to being forceful [regaining control] about getting what he wants.

V - Volume

Loud enough. Lots of hmphs, drawn out groans, and even ungodly moans.

W - Wild Card [ authors choice ]

Okay, he’s a bit insecure about his image and his dom persona/position... Like if he wants to try being sub he isn’t sure if you’d laugh at him or tease him relentlessly? But I think he wants to be taken care of as a sub before he dies. Not just so you can tease him, but so you can ‘take care of him’ and he doesn’t have to really do anything and try something new.

X - X-Ray [ what kind of package ]

Slender, but veiny and decent-ish length? I bet it’s pretty too.

Y - Yearning [ sex drive ]

High wtf I mean in his mind it’s a way of showing passion and love. Everyone shows it differently, but he’s more on the physical spectrum. Plus it feels good, so why the fuck not?

Z - Zzz [ after ]

Not sleepy, I would say he gains energy from other people he’s close to, but he is worn-out... He’ll ask if you’re good [satisfied? if there’s anything u need?] He’ll strip the sheets himself later if you want him to, but he’s not n a rush to get cleaned up usually- Snuggling and probably falling back asleep together. Unless he’s got shit to do~

[echodrops]

My KH3 Fix-It Dream

(Warning, long post is long because part way through I just started writing bits of the actual fic, oops.)

There’s a lot of people complaining about this and that with the KH3 plot, but I honestly don’t have too many complaints because the story we were given was about what I expected (did anyone realllyyy believe that Kairi was going to become a badass Keyblade wielder? Search your heart, you know you saw this travesty coming), except on one front: Vanitas was tragically under-utilized. After being hyped up so much in the trailers, you’d think that he would have at least had a go in the game that was worthy of his character. But KH3′s Vanitas was little more than a shadow of BBS’s, and that’s a darn shame.

So, I present to you: a fix-it fic plot bunny that fixes several things at once:

1) Vanitas doesn’t die. Okay, actually, it still works fine if he does die, but we’ll take his “I’m always with you” suggestion literally--Vanitas is a heart of Darkness wrapped in a body made of bad feelings, and that final battle was one brutal attack on the feels after another. The fear, anxiety, horror, and desperation the Lights, especially Sora upon witnessing what happens to Kairi, manifests as so much accumulated negativity that Vanitas--even though he actually wants to!!--can’t stay dead, and his heart, which naturally lingered with Sora and Ventus even after his defeat, gets shoved back into another body made entirely of other people’s suffering and pain, now even more unstable and dysfunctional than before.

2) The final battle happens. Kairi is saved, but Sora disappears. While the finally-reunited good-guy crew are busy coming out of shock planning how they’ll inevitably rescue Sora, they’re also struggling with another major issue: what to do about Vanitas, who is as comatose as Ven was at the beginning of BBS, a broken heart in a broken body.

3) Nobody wants to say “mercy kill”... The idea is there, but none of the gang is really willing to do it barring maybe Roxas, whose practicality is actually alarming (”You’re not going to be feeling so sympathetic when he wakes up and stabs somebody, you know. Don’t say I didn’t warn you”). Even Aqua, who knows as well as Ven how much of a danger Vanitas is, can’t really convince herself to attack someone who's completely helpless. But what to do, if not that? He isn’t waking up, and anywhere they leave him, he’ll have to be guarded around the clock--he still, technically, has the ability to trigger the apocalypse if left unattended to chase hearts of light, you know.

4) It’s Ven’s idea to take him to Destiny Islands. That was Master Xehanort’s plan for Ven, after all, when they were first separated: let Ven’s empty body waste away, forgotten, in a backwater world. Instead he’d made contact with Sora--and nobody wants to say that either, that maybe there’s the tiniest bit of hope: somehow, some way, maybe Sora can still be reached, maybe the call of yet another heart in need will be irresistible enough to make the unfailing hero claw his own way back from the brink...

5) What really happens is this: Sora’s mother has had MORE THAN ENOUGH. Spaceships start dropping out of the sky, the deserted play island is somehow brimming with grown men and women running around, she sees Kairi of all people wandering right back into town as if she hasn’t been inexplicably absent for months... So where is Sora? Where is Sora and why is he not coming home? Finally, after three days of radio silence from Kairi and Riku (Riku’s been gone for years, and now he’s suddenly here, without Sora? When has there ever been a such thing as Riku without Sora?), Sora’s mother prepares a scolding on the level of God casting humans out of the Garden of Eden and indignantly rows her way out to the play island. It seems there’s a whole crowd gathered at a bonfire down the beach, but she never makes it there. Because there’s Sora right there on the paopu island, there’s Sora, only everything’s wrong--who let him dye his hair like that, what is he wearing, why won’t he wake up--”Sora? SORA!”

6) It’s Riku who tells her the truth. That Sora is gone, in the wind, not even a body to bury except this one, this boy who’s wearing the face of the son she hasn’t held in her arms in ages--maybe never will again. This is what he looks like now, Riku says, but this isn’t him. (How? How is this not her son? Under his bangs there’s the same freckle at the edge of his forehead she used to give good night kisses to--)

7) They make several attempts to stop her (”Ma’am,” the man with brown hair and guilty eyes says, “Ma’am, you really can’t--he’s a danger to--”) but none of them stopped her son either and if they’ll stand by and let the light of all the worlds extinguish itself, let’s be honest, they’re just not that good of guardians. She takes Sora the boy named Vanitas home. In Sora’s old bed he looks comical, the only time, maybe, that he’ll ever look tall, and the shadow of the toys and clutter she hadn’t had the heart to clean (not after the day she remembered that the room up the stairs wasn’t just sealed up storage, that a boy had lived there, that his worn clothes were still strewn across the floor, that she’d had a son at all, Sora, for a whole year she’d forgotten the name, the sound, the jut of his lip in a pout--) falls over his face. They say he’s not her son.

8) Well, she thinks, we’ll see about that.

And lol I know that was a million words but like that was the prologue and the actual rest of the fic goes like this:

Sora’s mom takes care of Vanitas’ comatose body because hey, she’s a pediatric nurse, that kind of thing is literally her job. Riku and Kairi try to bodyguard her for a couple weeks, but the longer Vanitas stays asleep, the less and less often they come around--they’ve got to find Sora, after all.

The longer she takes care of Vanitas-not-Sora though, the worse her loneliness gets, until the deep vein of Darkness sadness (she lost her son not once, not twice, but three times) resonates with the shattered remnants of Vanitas’ heart and she forcefully because Sora got his busybodiness from somewhere generously connects with him enough to wake him up.

(“Go away,” answers a voice without speaking.

“Why?”

“You’re annoying me. I’m tired.”

“You’re hurt.”

“That’s what I said.”

No it isn’t.

There’s a certain sort of sadness only people who’ve lived through losing the light of their lives will ever know. There’s a kind of kinship in surviving separation. Her heart aches, goes out of her all at once, reaching--

“I made my decision. Leave me alone.”

"Did you make that decision because you were alone?”)

Only, you know, Vanitas doesn’t want to be awake or even alive now that he has absolutely no purpose, no master, no X-blade, no mission, nowhere to go, and no chance of ever reuniting with Ven--so fuck off, he’s not going to eat those home-made muffins and he’s not going to go take a bath even if he does stink, and he’s not going to talk, and he’s not coming out from under the covers for anything less than the sweet release of a swift execution.

...But that’s so boring.

So he insults her instead. And threatens her and mocks her and knocks over the water glasses she brings and lets the Unversed chase her out of the room and picks out all the stitches on this ugly hand-sewn quilt and asks her why she’s got a room full of toys but no kid to go in it.

No sell: she’s a pediatric nurse and dealing with sick, miserable, screaming children is what she does every day. And anyway, from seven to eight Sora threw a year of temper tantrums that make this boy look positively mild.

There’s one more thing working in her favor: he’s still curious. She learns: he’s never had a fruit smoothie, read a comic book, or slept in sheets fresh from the dryer. Sora’s old action figures aren’t played with so much as dismembered in effigy (is it that Vanitas is vindictive or that he’s jealous?), but the new electric toothbrush somehow wins grudging approval. The vacuum cleaner startles him the first time she turns it on, but one night when she goes for a drink at 3am, she discovers he’s been teaching himself to use the TV. Finding out the water can come out of the taps already hot buys her a whole seven minutes of intrigued silence, but the existence of ice cube trays might as well be a mortal offense. (”Don’t tell me you people actually wait for the water to--?” Given that he then summons a block of ice longer than the dining room table out of thin air, she thinks on this occasion he might be right though when he leaves said ice block to melt, her charitable feelings dry up.) He has to watch her pick herbs from the garden and cook with them before he can be convinced that the “weeds” are food. In short, he’s barely half way back from feral, and if the man who made him wasn’t already dead, she’d happily go kill that piece of shit herself.

It turns out, with spit, polish, and proper motivation (read as: bribes, read as: hot pot and honey castella), he’ll do the things she asks (sometimes). When he actually commits himself to a task, he’s focused to an alarming degree, meticulous and self-critical, and he stubbornly refuses to give up until he’s content with the results, which means that sometimes on her way to work she finds him where she left him the night before, still glaring, bleary-eyed and bratty, at the broken stand-mixer or mantle clock or book spine that she hoped he could fix with magic. If he spitefully tracks mud all over the house after he relentlessly weeds the whole garden, well, she’d say the benefits still outweigh the costs.

The hoard of creatures that follow him around (”They’re my feelings,” he says, and kicks one without the slightest hesitation) take getting used to, but it’s easier to share space when they make themselves so useful--sometimes even when he can’t be badgered into work, he’s willing the boss the underlings into action: the crooked door on the backyard shed finally gets rehung thanks to a towering brute with a banana peel on its head, and once she opens a jar in the kitchen she doesn’t remember buying and finds it full of rich, warm apple pie.

He gets... better. It’s not linear. They have bad days, days when he breaks things without warning and won’t talk except through stinging barbs, one day so bad he let a flock of his worst feelings pound enormous holes in the living room walls, burns up her favorite rose bush--but they have good days too. Some days he laughs and it isn’t malicious at all; some days he eats with her at the table without even being asked; some days she comes home late to find he’s still awake, ready to poke fun at the tired way she toes off her shoes, and it takes everything she has to keep from saying You really didn’t have to wait up for me.

One day he smiles for no reason at all, and she thinks: The boy’s going to be okay.

(But how in the world is she going to explain all this to Sora?)

And there’s sooo much else I want to write but I can’ttttttt, I don’t have time, so here’s a bullet list of “also featuring:”

Vanitas being a natural Heartless deterrent because none of them want to mess with the biggest Darkness on the block.

Ven, Terra, and Aqua sniffing around trying to figure out whether they need to take Vanitas back (just to make sure he’s properly under watch, of course); Sora’s mom giving them the politest “Fuck you” this side of the universe.

Kairi and Vanitas friendship. Vanitas doesn’t even know it’s happening. Kairi is devious. Vanitas taking over Kairi’s training even though they can’t physically spar because they’ll literally end the world if they fight lol. Kairi taking advantage of Vanitas’ lack of interest in social cues to get him to do things none of the other boys will do with her like clothes shopping.

Kairi and Axel friendship with Roxas being the weird middle man who doesn’t know why they can’t just text each other instead of sending handwritten letters back and forth through him of all people.

Vanitas and Roxas reaching grudging levels of respect because sarcastic bitches gotta support each other.

Roxas and Sora’s mom being hilariously awkward because Sora’s mom doesn’t know if she should also be claiming responsibility for this child too and Roxas is absolutely clueless about the concept of having parents in the first place.

After many chapters of redemption arc, Sora’s mom taking Vanitas with her to work at the hospital so he can turn the sick children’s negative feelings into Unversed and then defeat them. She doesn’t know this hurts him and he sure as fuck isn’t going to tell her.

Everything going to shit when Chirithy shows up, insisting Vanitas is its master and calling him “Ven.” Vanitas was getting better--he was getting over the fact that he’d never be “Ventus” again--

Discovering memories of Daybreak Town and the first Keyblade War with Chirithy’s (and Namine’s!) help. Remembering the existence of old friends--Ephemer, Skuld, the other Union leaders--and the realization that they might still be alive, trapped in a timeless world of sleep.

Vanitas and Riku teaming up after someone (Mickey? Yen Sid?) suggests that Sora’s heart may have returned to the place where all hearts eventually go--the core of light that lies sleeping in the deepest depths of the realm of Darkness. Realm of Darkness road trip! (This is just my excuse to wax philosophical about how being made of Darkness doesn’t actually make anyone evil.)

Finding out that saving Sora will mean finally, actually opening the door to the true Kingdom Hearts, which can only be accessed via Scala Ad Caelum, or, more specifically, the ruins of Daybreak Town that lie beneath it.

Insert some Nomura-esque convoluted plot here about how the clock of Daybreak Town isn’t actually a bell tower but the mechanism for protecting the original X-blade and the door to Kingdom Hearts, and Daybreak!Ventus’ very existence was somehow tied to this clock tower--that’s why Ventus’ and Vanitas’ Keyblades form the two halves of a broken gear: they’re maybe literally the gear that turns the hands of time in the world that once lay closest to the heart of all things. The bell, the sword, the door--they’re all linked, and the only way to save Sora--to save everyone, including the sleeping Dandelions--is to reunite (to wake) their fractured dream of Daybreak with reality, restore the X-blade, and retrieve Sora’s wandering self with the power of Kingdom Hearts’ connection to all worlds and all hearts.

In short, like Nomura, I don’t actually know how I’d ever make it make sense, but the X-blade would get forged by Ven and Vanitas in a safe and sane way (this is just my excuse to give Vanitas a scene where he finally recognizes that he is content to be a separate being from Ventus; that he wants to stay his own person)... Kairi wields the X-blade because fuck you KH3, and everyone gets the damn happy ending they deserve--but most especially Vanitas, who gets to be the big damn hero to finally bring Sora home safe to their mother.

Like guys, I just need Vanitas’ narrative arc to feel coherent and complete. I need to know why he and Ven have a gear motif. How they’re connected to the Dandelions. Whether or not Ventus and Vanitas could ever both simultaneously be at peace despite remaining separate people. Whether Chirithy would have recognized Vanitas. Why Ventus alone had the power to forge the X-blade by reuniting with his other half when it would otherwise have taken 13 Darknesses and 7 Lights. What Sora’s mother would say finding out her son has like five clones now. If anyone would ever recognize that Vanitas had never been shown basic fucking human kindness.

Nomura. Plz.

[aba-ridemerenji]

headcanons for Byakuya Kuchiki falling in love again?

Lots of companionable silence. Byakuya’s not wasting his time with anyone he doesn’t want to be around. But he just wants to be around you. If you haven’t been intimate yet, just being next to you is intoxicating to him. (because Byakuya dont do casual sex, sorry. Too risky.) 

Don’t think for a second that he’s some smooth operator at all times. He’s just as big as a dork as the rest of us in love, he just hides it better ;) If you bump into him in the morning, he’s going to be concentrating very hard on his work for the rest of the day - his thoughts keep drifting back to you, how your hair looked in the morning light, the light scent of soap wafting downwind as you rushed towards your first training exercise of the day, the bare skin of the nape of your neck visible as you made a deep bow to greet him. 

Compliment him? He’ll say thank you, and then just look you in the eye, letting the silence go on for a touch too long. When you break eye contact and give an awkward little laugh, he’s torn between kicking himself for making things weird, and tamping down the bubbling flutter in his chest - you just have a really cute smile, ok? 

This dork has his moments though. Remember those quiet moments you spend beside him? Maybe you’re taking a walk in the garden on a perfect spring day. Maybe it’s in the privacy of a drawing room at dusk. Whatever it is, he always makes sure that you’re both alone, when he makes his move. The subtlest of steps, and he’s inches from you. As a noble, Byakuya is acutely aware of social cues and appropriate behaviour - invading your space this way is very much intentional. He’ll test the waters a little, give you enough time to back away, to clam up and look away. But when he’s this close, every shallow, uneven breath is drowned out by the blood rushing to your head, but every hitch in your breathing is perfectly audible to Byakuya. For someone so aloof, the heat emanating off him makes you want to laugh, warm enough to match your reddening face. These are the times he has the upper hand, and you both know it. When he gets like this, commanding, imposing, utterly impossible to ignore, you always seem to admit something you never would normally, say something that makes your cheeks heat up. He’ll draw it out of you effortlessly. A concession that he’s been on your mind. An admission that it happens more often than you’d like. A confession that these thoughts include those of the...explicit variety. (He likes that last one very much. The way you flushed bright red and your voice faltered a little only made your revelation all the more delightful.) 

Ok the big one: the dead wife. 

He takes ages to get over Hisana. Fucking forever. Not even in human time either, in shinigami time, which is like what, 600 years at the very least? Considering his naturally guarded personality and the need to Choose Wisely™ because of his social standing and position, put another 100 years on top of that. 

My theory is, he’s not falling for anyone if the relationship is too tough to pursue and see through. He’s had a taste of true love. (Ok I know Hisana canonically said “sorry I couldn’t return ur love” but I interpret that as “I couldn’t love you as much as you loved me/I couldn’t do as much for you as you did for me”) I’d think Byakuya would want to do it ‘right’ this time - he’s big on righting wrongs and doing the proper thing. 

Regardless of whether it’s an ideal match or not, he’ll know when you’re starting to grow on him. It could be an immediate attraction - the kind where everything either of you say or do draws the other in like a whirlpool, circling and dancing around the issue the long way around even though yall know damn well where things are headed. Yeah he’s not a dumbass, Byakuya knows when he’s starting to have feelings~ for you, but somehow, it hits him like a boot to the face when he realises he capital L *loves* you. 

Byakuya doesn’t suddenly turn into his bratty teenage self around you and only you. Oh no. You’ll soon realise that’s because he’s a bratty teenager ALL THE FUCKING TIME. When he’s ordering Renji to fetch him a teacup. When he delivers a icy barb of reproach when speaking to Ichigo. When he purposely terrifies his squad members a little. All the time. The catch is that if Byakuya is in love with you, he’s comfortable enough giving you enough peeks to that side of him. To let some of the irritation, glee, pouting, and pettiness leak through his noble exterior - just enough that only someone very close *and* very observant would notice. 

I could see him falling for a fellow noble. He’s already done the whole rebellious thing, u & me against the world bb uwu!! And he’s mature enough now to consider that there are more things that make for a successful match than love alone. (Don’t get me wrong, he won’t settle for a marriage of convenience - if anything, I think loving and losing Hisana made Byakuya even more determined to marry someone he truly loves, if he ever does marry again.) 

She’d have to be a boss ass lady, the queen to his king. Someone who understands the power of her position, and the sacrifice and responsibility that comes with it. Someone like him, basically. Think Claire Underwood (house of cards) but not evil. Byakuya wants an equal, not a trophy. Sparks could fly right away, but I also think that Byakuya would be open to starting with someone who’s a good match on paper - even if there’s less chemistry than desired - and trying to get to know them and grow the relationship from there. Maybe someone the clan set him up with. 

The bottom line in this relationship is that this time, it’s for good. He’ll search for someone who ticks all the boxes, and he won’t give himself over until he finds the one that does. Someone the clan approves of, meets his standards, and of course, he really fucking loves. So he’ll fight for you, and he’s very, very serious about spending the rest of his long, long life with you. (Please don’t die on him)

[ventace]

So, for quite a while now, I’ve had the idea to put together mini playlists for each of the Fameblue gemlings created by @zawa-ro, but I actually finally forced myself to stop thinking about it, and actually get it done.

I’ve also made a bonus playlist for Adam. Even though he’s not Fameblue, he’s often associated with them, and there’s been tons of inquiries to zawa about the hypothetical scenario in which the Fameblue kids meet him, so...

Anyways, I’m rambling. This is gonna be a long post, since I’m also gonna be posting pictures, and detailing my reasons behind the songs I picked, so it’ll be under a cut.

First up, we have Amebeast. Before doing this list, I didn’t have too much of an idea as to what her personality was like, so I went and asked zawa about it. I was informed that Amebeast is the charismatic leader who protects others, and has lots of fun.

Armed with this knowledge, I went to find songs with implications of being a hero, or protecting others in some way, and included some that are high-energy and fun.

1. “The Awakening” - Onlap

2. “The Hero!!” - JAM Project

3. “Home” - Phillip Phillips

4. “Run With Us” - Lisa Lougheed

5. “Live to Rise” - Soundgarden

6. “Open Your Heart” - Crush 40

Next up, we have Big Blue Agate. She’s one of the main characters over at zawa’s blog, and most people who follow them know her. The second in Holly’s first litter, she is a master of fantastic facial expressions and not giving a fuck.

To reflect this, I armed her playlist with songs that showcase that attitude, but I also threw in two songs to describe her blossoming relationship with that charming citrine guard.

1. “Beez in the Trap” - Nicki Minaj

2. “Alright” - Supergrass

3. “Bad Reputation” - Joan Jett

4. “Motherfucker Got Fucked Up” - Folk Uke

5. “Accidentally in Love” - Counting Crows

6. “Paralyzer” - Finger Eleven

Moving on, we have Carnie. This gal strikes me as someone who likes to be front-and-center; she’s got confidence, and she’s never afraid to express it to anyone, much to her sisters’ chagrin sometimes.

Since that’s what I’m going off of, I filled Carnie’s playlist with songs that are all full of confidence and absolute fun, with one containing a reference to how she hopes she never has to deal with anything too bad.

1. “I’m Too Sexy” - Right Said Fred

2. “Fashionista” - Jimmy James

3. “Stayin’ Alive” - The Beegees

4. “Don’t Stop Me Now” - Queen

5. “The Impression That I Get” - The Mighty Mighty Bosstones

6. “Scream” - Cee Lo Green

Next, we have everyone’s favorite spoiled brat, Light Amethyst! Now, we all know she’s spoiled, as I said, as well as crass and obnoxious, but there’s another facet to her that I explored for her playlist: her lonely side. zawa said Light has always been the loneliest of the Fameblue kids, so I decided to go with that facet (ha, unintentional pun) of her.

As such, her playlist is full of songs that set a somber, lonely tone. The last song provides some measure of happiness for her; is it directed at her mother? Her sisters? That adorable, bratty daughter of hers? Only Light can say for sure.

1. “Welcome to My Life” - Simple Plan

2. “I Need Some Sleep” - Eels

3. “Nobody Home” - Pink Floyd

4. “Have You Ever Seen the Rain?” - Creedence Clearwater Revival

5. “Heaven (Reincarnation Version)” - Shihoko Hirata

6. “Thank You” - Dido

Soft Jasper is up next, and she’s ready to rumble! She’s the luchador supreme, and she’s ready to defend her family with everything she’s got, so don’t you mess with her! But she’s also quite nice and sweet with her sisters, hence her name.

Since she’s so very much like a wrestler aesthetically, I threw a wrestler’s theme on here for her. Taking from the luchador element, I threw in a track from Rodrigo y Gabriela. Aside from that, I also put in a song that represents her love for her family, and one of the most inspirational tracks to ever come out of a sports movie.

A fun fact about this list is that it’s the only one with instrumental tracks on it! Also, for reference, Dyna Blade is a character from the Kirby franchise; she’s very protective of her family, hence why her theme from one of the games is on here.

1. “The Wall (Mark Henry’s Theme)” - Heet Mob

2. “Diablo Rojo” - Rodrigo y Gabriela

3. “Eye of the Tiger” - Survivor

4. “Dyna Blade” - Multiple Composers

5. “We Are Family” - Sister Sledge

6. “Water From the Moon” - David Lanz

Last up in the Fameblue lineup (but most certainly not least!) is the precious BB Agate! She’s the epitome of the word “sweetheart”, with tons of love and happiness that she just can’t resist spreading to everyone around her.

The songs on her playlist reflect that irresistible sweetness, containing some of the best tracks about loving others and cheering them up, and having fun with your pals, as well as just being happy about the world around her and being hopeful for the future.

1. “Lean On Me” - Bill Withers

2. “Bridge Over Troubled Water” - Simon & Garfunkel

3. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World” - Israel “Iz” Kamakiwo’ole

4. “Fix You” - Coldplay

5. “Heart of Life” - I Fight Dragons

6. “Raincloud Chill” - Brad Breeck

As promised, here’s the bonus Adam Blue DeMayo playlist! He seems like an honest, hardworking guy who enjoys the simple things in life, and loves his family with all of his heart.

His playlist is full of things concerning family, being happy, and enjoying some relaxation time while listening to the world around him. Since he’s often the target of much adoration due to his dapper outfits, I also threw in a song in reference to that!

1. “Simple Man” - Shinedown

2. “Working Man” - Rush

3. “Sharp Dressed Man” - ZZ Top

4. “My Hero” - Foo Fighters

5. “Happy” - Pharrell Williams

6. “Fat Old Sun” - Pink Floyd

And that about does it, folks! This was a real nice challenge to give myself, but it was fun, too (especially coming up with Carnie’s playlist). I hope people like all of these playlists! Have a nice day/afternoon/evening/night, y’all!

[arce-elliot]

here are my thoughts on the star war

they under the lil thingy

hey sup

I’m tired but HERE WE GO [may add more tomorrow when I’m functioning better]

Important to note: I did not grow up with Star Wars. I didn’t see any of them until my junior year of college [bout two years ago], so I do not have the nostalgia of the old ones. I like them, just don’t have the same feelings as a lot of folks.

OKAY onto the discourse tinder:

KMT was phenomenal, her character is amazing, I love her

POE’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!! We got a whole movie of him being a badass and now he finally learns oh shit!! consequences!! homeboy’s an aries probably

also GOD I love Finn’s character. Like yeah he’s a good guy but he puts his immediate friends over everything and I think that’s interesting. IDK if a lot of people picked up on that but I thought it was cool

putting all the old cronies in their seats. we literally burned the old world to the ground, this is New Content, it’s not gonna be like the old ones, get over it good L O R D

I LOVE MORALLY GRAY LUKE. I mean he obviously swayed towards good towards the end but GOD it was such an interesting dynamic. I imagine [and I’ve seen from some reviews] that this was a tough pill for the longtime fanboys to swallow

G O D Rey is my hero. She’s incredible. For me this movie really drove home how she’s done everything for herself her whole life, seen the worst of the world and still wants to find good in it without being a total pushover. I love it.

everything w/ leia make me cry gbye

the twists!! i’m usually bad at catching twists, but there were so many moments where myself and others in the theater literally gasped, our hands over our mouths. I felt like I couldn’t trust anything and I LOVED IT

I enjoyed that Snoke just died. No fanfare, no burst of light, just...he die. That sounds sarcastic but it’s one hundred percent serious

I’ll talk more about Kylo/Ben later but G O D Daisy and Adam’s performances were captivating. I have to see this movie again over break just to really, REALLY appreciate it. They are both so incredible, I cannot give them enough props. Daisy especially makes Rey this character you can’t help but cheer for, even when you don’t agree with her choices [same with Kylo TBH]

I actually enjoy the Hux/Kylo dynamic now. I’m on the Ben Train [more on that later] but I think their interactions near the end of the film were very interesting. Would love to see it play out at least a little bit in Ep. Nine.

A friend of mine said this but Phasma is the new Boba Fett lets be honest. Cool design but little attention to her character.

Mark Hamill was amazing

Yoda came out of left field but I appreciated the scene, it felt like a nice nod to the older fanboys but also a nice nudge for them to move on

IT LOOKED STUNNING. The production design my guys. I especially loved the last planet [the icy salt one] and the casino planet. It’s a nice break from the dozens of ship interiors.

TBH I almost made an entire post just for Kylo, but here’s the essay: 

Okay now I’m gonna talk about Kyle Ron. I’m gonna be honest, I went into this movie cheering for his death. I even had a post about it queued up from someone else’s blog. 

Now, when I first saw TFA I didn’t HATE Kylo. Quite the opposite. I thought he was interesting: a bratty yet competent villain who wasn’t all powerful but still a threat [my all time pet peeve w/ superhero/sci-fi movies is the constant God Mode villain trope]. I didn’t excuse his actions, but I could see the motive behind it: being twisted at such a young age by someone so much more powerful than yourself sounded awful. He was a tad overbearing, but it only made sense for someone who was presumably raised pretty alone during his formative years [presumably. I don’t think Snoke is a sleepover kind of mom.] However, tumblr seemed determined to paint him as a misogynist creep, which I now believe was mainly to combat the Reylo ship [which I am not behind, for various reasons, but that’s besides the point]. So, I went into the movie like many others, bragging about how Kylo was a brat and I was excited for him to die or some shit.

But boy was I wrong. This movie took his weird motivations from TFA and turned them into something great. I struggled to try and hate him [the character, not as a person] but I just couldn’t. Luke’s reveal added another layer to him: he wasn’t just a foolish child lulled to the dark side by Snoke. He was a child who was probably terrified of this dark force, failed by the adult who was supposed to protect him: said adult then loomed over his bed in a killing pose - what else was he to think with that poisoning his mind? 

To clarify, and I’m only gonna say it once: explanation does not a justification make.

I think some people didn’t like their little skype sessions but I found them to be intriguing. They’re both great actors honestly, so watching them interact is a treat. The real treat though was their standoff with Snoke, however. I think some might see Rey going to Kylo as a bold move, but what other choice did she have? Anyway, I honestly did not expect Kylo to kill Snoke. I fully expected BB-8 to bust through the door, or Finn and Rose, or for Rey to overpower Kylo. To see him literally murder Snoke and then fight BACK TO BACK with Rey blew me out of the water. Their following conversation with Kylo begging her to come with him almost brought me to tears. He’s lost everything he’s worked for, realized how useless it all was, and just sounds scared.

I also like how, at the end of the film, Kylo’s motivations are different, but his end goal is the same. Before, he wanted to destroy his past because it tied him to the light. Now, imo, he wants to destroy it to get rid of everything left: everything that reminds him of all the mistakes he made. [Side note: Luke was a tad bit of a douche in their final showdown, ngl. But so was Kylo with the killing and shit].

I honestly did not expect them to take his character arc anywhere interesting. I am so excited to possibly see him come back to the light, I really really want him to. I feel like all this effort would be wasted, otherwise.

TL;DR: I’m a Kylo stan now, sorry about it.

Feel free to yell at me in the replies or w/e.