#or we both park in a similar place in the parking lot and end up walking together after class

[bangcakes]

.

[whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan]

PART 1: 🚪 Whats wrong with a little privacy, huh? 🚪

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Slightly smutty fluff (?)

✎ Summary: Your boyfriend takes you out to a nice restaurant, but you end up eating something not on the menu.

✎ CW: Tbh kissing. I hope you like kissing.

✎ Word count: 2,118

✩ A/N: Spicy part 2 is live!✩

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” Chan says, shooting you a quick smirk while he drives.

He always looks effortlessly sexy in the car: one hand on the steering wheel, one somewhere on your leg. Tonight, it’s high up on your thigh, squeezing and rubbing the bare skin just under the hem of your dress.

“Thanks, baby,” you reply. “You, too, of course.”

“Oh, stop,” he chides. “You’ll make me blush.”

But he does anyway. Even in the dark, you can see his cheeks take on a slightly pink hue. It’s so easy to make him flustered sometimes.

The way the moonlight hit his skin was enough to make you giddy, too. His umber eyes glancing back and forth between the road ahead and your thigh, the way his wide nose slopes down and curves just above his plump, pink lips, his silver hoops swinging back and forth in his earlobes when you hit a rough patch of pavement. He was like living art. And he was all yours.

“So….” he starts, trying to change the topic inside your brain to something less… him. “You excited for the seafood?”

“Mhhmmm,” you mumble, still entranced by the god next to you. He’s gonna have to try harder than that.

He catches your eyes for a second and giggles before squeezing your thigh.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he says sheepishly. “I can’t handle that look in your eyes.”

“What look?” you ask, fully aware of what look it is. But it’s always fun to hear him describe it.

“Like… like you’re…” he says between glances. “Like you love me. A ridiculous amount.”

“Like you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life?” you add.

“Yes, that,” he says with a laugh. “It’s making me nervous. And… excited. I have to focus on driving and you’re over there looking at me like that — it’s so distracting.”

“Fine, fine,” you surrender and smirk. “I’ll save my lovey-dovey eyes for when you’re not operating a murder machine.”

“Thank you, my love,” he says appreciatively, reaching for your hand to bring it to his lips. “So, as I was saying… seafood. What do you think you’re gonna eat?”

“I’m not sure,” you say, shifting your glance to the road. “Clams definitely. Oysters maybe? Do you wanna share something?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’d love to share with you,” he says, squeezing your hand he still holds between the two of you.

The rest of the drive isn’t long, but keeping your eyes on the road is agony. Every brush of his thumb on the back of your hand fills you with raw emotion you need to channel back to him, but you fight to keep your eyes to yourself for the sake of his sanity — and your lives, apparently.

The car pulls into the parking lot, and he finds a spot easily. Once it’s in park, Chan removes his seatbelt, shoots you a wink, and says, “hold tight.” He exits his side, shuts the door, and hustles over to the passenger side where he opens the door for you with a slight bow.

“We’ve arrived, my lady,” he says and holds his hand out for you.

“Oh, thank you, good sir,” you reply, placing your hand in his to help you out of the car. “What a lovely gentleman you are.”

He shut the door, places his hand at his waist and holds out his elbow for you to take.

“Shall we?”

“Of course.”

You walk arm in arm toward the entrance, both smiling wide as you ascend the stairs.

“Good evening, sir and madam,” the host greets in a similar — but less sarcastic — tone of voice. “Do we have a reservation this evening?”

“Yes, should be under Christopher,” Chan answers.

“Ah, yes. Mr. Bahng. We have you in the private room this evening.”

“Oohhh, the private room, huh?” you whisper in his ear. “Ok, rich ass.”

He holds back a smile but squeezes your arm as the host extends his arm and gestures to follow him.

You weave through tables and up stairs and around hallway corners until the man opens a tall door and steps to the side so you can enter. Inside is a table for 4, but with only two seats. A small chandelier hangs from the tall ceiling, and the windowless walls are nearly bare, except for a themed photo or two.

“Will this do, sir and madam?” the host asks politely.

“Of course, this is perfect, thank you,” Chan replies. “Will a waiter come to us, or…”

“Yes, sir, they’ll come by and knock before entering.”

Oh, you sly piece of shit.

“Sounds perfect, thank you so much again,” Chan says.

The waiter nods and steps out of the room, closing the heavy door behind him.

“You fucking…” you tease, slapping Chan’s toned arms lightly. “Private room? The waiter has to knock? So pretentious.”

“Listen, I didn’t know it was this private, but yeah,” he defends himself, but his face softens again when he pulls you into his chest. “What’s wrong with a little privacy, huh?”

“You better be good,” you warn, looking at him sternly.

“I will, I promise,” he smirks, but then he holds you tighter and kisses your neck just below your jawline, so you’re almost certain his fingers must be crossed.

“Yeah, ok, sure,” you say sarcastically and lift his head to plant a quick kiss on his nose before heading to your respective sides of the table and sitting in the outlandish chairs — they’re almost like mini thrones.

“Well, these are… a lot,” Chan scoffs and turns his attention to you. “But they do suit you well, my queen.”

“And you, my king,” you say, barely holding in a giggle.

A knock at the door ends the role play — for now — and a waiter enters with two glasses and a bottle of wine.

“Good evening, can I get you two anything else to drink or eat?” he says politely as he pours your first glasses.

Chan skillfully orders a bottle of champagne, a tray of oysters, clams and other shellfish, and a pasta dish. The waiter takes note and leaves almost as quickly as he came.

“Wow, ok,” you say in amazement.

“What? Not happy with the selections?” he replies with a grin.

“No it’s fine, that was just… quick,” you marvel and pick up your glass, taking a sip of the Malbec.

“Yeah, hopefully the food comes quickly, too,” he says, then his expression turns much more serious, seductive even.

“Until then… wanna come sit in my lap?”

“Hm?” you ask. “You want me to sit in your lap… in a fancy restaurant?”

“Well, it is a private room…” he muses and grabs his glass, taking a sip and pushing his chair back from the table. Even confident Channie can’t help but blush when he gets excited, and you can’t resist those rosy cheeks.

“Well… will you? Please?” he repeats the question.

“… just because you asked nicely.”

You stand from your chair and slowly round the table to his seat, standing above him for a few seconds before lifting your dress enough to straddle his legs.

“Hi,” you chirp once your faces are only inches apart. “How are you?”

“Better now,” he says with a grin as he placed his glass back on the table and snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you closer so your noses touch. “How are you, darling?”

“I’m ok, a little hungry,” you answer, wrapping your arms around his neck and rubbing your nose against his. “You smell amazing.”

“So do you,” he says softly, leaning forward to inhale your exhales. “So sweet… I want to taste you.”

His lips gently press against yours as his palm travels up your back and stops at the base of your neck. His fingers close around it just enough to keep you steady, to keep you close.

He opens his lips then, slipping his tongue out to run along your bottom lip. Your tongue meets his there before returning to its original position to let him explore.

Soft sighs and moans bounce back and forth between your mouths as the kiss deepens. Heads tilt to gain better access, and hands travel to necks, to hair, to cheeks… to hold, to stroke, to savor.

Both of your eyes are squeezed shut, too overwhelmed by your other senses to process anything else. And you don’t need to see to understand the map of his mouth. It’s a place you’ve been so many times before. A place that stays with you even when you’re away. A place that feels like home.

Your mouth tastes like wine, but as more of his saliva sits on your tongue, the flavors change. The acidity drops away almost entirely, letting notes of vanilla, dark chocolate and blackberries shine through.

“Mmm,” he hums, breaking the kiss for just a second. “This wine is delicious.”

“I was just thinking the same,” you say, amazed for the millionth time how in sync you are. “Want some more?”

He nods, and you turn to grab his glass from the table and hand it to him. But he holds his hand up,l and gestures for you to drink.

“No, you go ahead, baby,” he says. “But don’t swallow it.”

Your eyes narrow at him, but you do as he asks anyway, taking a sip and letting the liquid slosh around between your cheeks.

“Good girl,” he says. “Now, come here.”

He places his palms on either side of your neck, pulling your mouths together once again. He presses his bottom lip firmly beneath yours and uses his tongue to separate your lips, letting wine spill from your mouth into his.

Your bodies stay eerily still as the stream falls between his lips, onto his tongue. If a waiter walked in right now, he may think he stumbled upon an ancient stone fountain, lovingly crafted by skilled and passionate hands.

The last drop falls, and his hold on your neck disappears. He closes his lips and lets the wine sit on his tongue for what seems like hours, though it was only a few seconds. Then he swallows.

“Hmmm,” he hums, his face scrunching up. “Vanilla… berries?”

A smile spreads across your face.

“I got that, too. Blackberries,” you say excitedly.

“Oh, yeah, that’s it,” he confirms. “Blackberries.”

He looks up into your eyes and sends that same smile, that same expression of understanding and love, right back at you. And you’re so synchronized, you dive back in to taste his lips at the same time he does, roughly bumping foreheads and noses in the process.

“Ow! Fuck!” you exclaim, moving your hand to the bridge of your nose to assess the damage.

You clearly got the worst of the collision, though, because he just sits there smiling and giggling.

“Come here, dumbass,” he says softly, placing one big hand on the back of your neck to guide you safely back to his lips.

His lips are softer now. Maybe it’s the wine, maybe it’s the swelling. But it’s like closing silky pillows between your lips again and again and again. There’s something so comforting, so safe, about being trapped there.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your mouth, too entranced to bother breaking the kiss for three small words.

And you’re too lightheaded to even form words, so you settle for a soft moan in reply and let your fingers find his hair.

You run the soft strands through your fingers and lure sweet sounds from his mouth, like you’re playing with a marionette. Pull this strand, he moans. Pull that strand, he sighs. Rub his scalp…

The hand on your neck travels down slowly, between your shoulder blades, and follows your spine down to your ass. He grips one cheek and squeezes just enough to make you groan. He knows how to pull your strings, too.

That hand travels forward now, around your hip to the top of your thigh. It sits there for a few seconds, enough time for its owner to slide his tongue behind your teeth, feeling every ridge as he goes.

He must’ve found some confidence there, because he takes that big hand and slides it over and down, between your legs.

You stifle a moan at the same time a knock sounds from the door. The knob twists before he has time to lift his hand out from under your panties, let alone get you off his lap and back to your seat. As the door swings open, Chan whispers in your ear.

“Looks like somebody’s getting a big tip…”

…continued in part 2...

[charmercharm3r]

whatshisname

BC, SCB

Masterlist

wc: 3.7k

Requested

Synopsis: A night out leads you to make some uncharacteristic choices that somehow end with you into their bed.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, binchanXreader, porn w no plot, threesome, eiffel-towering lol, protected sex, implied chanXchangbin, mentions of alcohol consumption, good cop\bad cop situ lol, cum play, lil bit of ass slapping, oral (m&f), cum eating, slight dumbification

If you were to tell any of your friends about how you ended up in the bed of the two hottest guys you’d ever seen, they’d laugh in your face and call you a liar. Hell, you can’t even believe it. Things like this don’t happen to you, let alone with two men. You can’t even recall where it all happened, one second you were talking to one of them and introduced you to his buddy, the next you were in their car on the way back to their place. 

It was so out of character for you to even consider talking to them in the first place. The one with dimples approached you first, Chris? Chan? You don’t really remember, just that he had the sweetest smile and voice like honey. He was the one that drove, his right hand slowly creeping up your thigh the entire ride. His friend, a name similar but you could only recall the other calling him Bin, had a kick ass playlist, you had to admit, sultry songs that were equally energizing and made you even more excited for what was to come. Or better yet– who.

You’d decided to call the first man Chris, it feels like a common enough name you couldn’t be wrong. As soon as Chris had put the car in park, the shorter man was already outside your door and opening it, holding a hand out for you to take. You can’t even remember what button they’d pushed to reach their floor, the elevator ride up was filled with tentative touches, one behind you and one in front, distracting you with their hands on your hips and lips peppering light kisses to either side of your neck. The funniest part, you weren’t even drunk. Tipsy, sure, but with enough consciousness to know that you wanted this more than anything.

The lights back at the bar were too dim to have noticed just how muscular they both were. The reflective metal of the elevator gave you optimal view of Chris’ wide shoulders and Bin’s swole arms wrapped around your torso. That sight alone made your mouth water, and next thing you knew, you were being led through a hallway much nicer than you’d expected and into what you assumed was their apartment, body being tossed onto a bed and smothered in kisses.

Honestly, it was a lot more romantic than you were expecting. Not that they weren’t eager to get you naked, but they were taking their time. You couldn’t tell who was kissing you now, just that their lips were incredibly gentle and unrushed. He wasn’t on top of you but instead on his knees next to your side and cupping your cheeks in his hands while you felt the bed dip under the weight of the other.

“Can I take these off?” One of them asked, playing with the hem of your skirt. You tried to respond, but could only moan into the mouth of the man kissing you. “Give her a chance to answer, Changbin. We have all night.” Chris was the one messing with your clothes, playfully moving them around to make your attention scatter.

Changbin was his full name? You didn’t have time to question nor answer before he was speaking for you, “but I like kissing her, such nice lips. She wants them off, don’t you, baby?”

What had come over you? Nodding mindlessly as you let him hike your blouse over your head and Chris tug the skirt down to leave you in nothing but undergarments. Maybe it was the compliments Changbin whispered in your ear, or perhaps how tender Chris was caressing every inch of your exposed skin, but you didn’t feel the need to think with them, not a care in the world other than wanting to please them.

Changbin was on you in the next second and was laying kind, wet smooches up and down your neck, it made you shiver and Chris chuckle at the gooseflesh rising along your skin. “Sensitive, aren’t you?” the dimpled one smiled up at you from your lower half, teething at the elastic of your panties. Another rapid, mindless nod, he grinded his hips into the bed as your hips kicked up, arousal probably soaking the fabric.

“What about these?” Changbin snapped the strap of your bra, “these off next?” You were growing impatient, moving to take it off without answering him and earning an amused laugh from both.

“Mind if I?” Chris was spreading your legs and climbing to lay between them on his stomach, clearly grinding his crotch into the mattress. You went to take off the panties as well, but his large hands stopped you, “keep them on for now.” Following his instructions, you watched Chris get comfortable and continue to tease himself through the fabric of his jeans. He took in a deep inhale with his nose pressed to the gusset of your underwear before exhaling just as large with a strangled groan, “fuck. So sweet.”

He took a hard lick at you through the panties, you shivered even more as the tip of his tongue circled your clit. His fat tongue sent warmth shooting up your spine, comforting and blissful at the same time. So much so that your eyes rolled back and you relaxed into the sheets. But before you could completely unwind, Changbin’s lips suctioned to your breast, biting the skin around your nipple before nibbling at the nub softly. The pricks of pain from his teeth was soothed over when the warm muscle of his tongue would lick over it.

The combination of it all was unbearably wonderful, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Your hands moved on their own, burying one into Changbin’s hair and the other into Chris’ to push him deeper into your cunt. You suppose you were moving too much for Changbin’s liking, his big arms slithered around your rib cage to hold your tighter to his face, while Chris moved with your writhing hips. He’d hooked his arms under your thighs and began to moan into your core, vibrations making you helplessly fall further victim to the feeling. Quickly you were becoming undone, opening your eyes for a split second to see the purple bruises littering your chest and breasts as Changbin played with your nipples and Chris already looking up at you through his lashes, suffocating himself in your pussy.

Just as you made eye contact with Chris, he showed off his skills by flattening his tongue against your bundle of nerves and swiping back and forth, hard. The look on his face was almost the same as yours, enjoying himself as though he was the one getting head. Then, he suckled on your clit through your saliva and arousal soaked underwear, making your back arch. The sudden urge to feel something on your lips had you tugging Changbin by the back of his hair from your chest, immediately locking your lips together for a messy, spit covered kiss. His doll-like lips fit perfectly against yours, that coupled with Chris’s plump ones cupping your clit and sucking you in like a vacuum made you see stars, already coming. You moaned into Changbin, hardly muffled and echoing throughout the room.

The only reason Chris had pulled away was because you tapped his shoulder, looking up at you with the lower half of his face covered in slick and a goofy smile on his lips. As you let your body sink into the bed, Chris moved to sit on his knees while Changbin continued to kiss wherever he could, wherever he wanted.

You let your eyes close again and succumb to the warmth that washed over you in post-orgasm glow, though the sound of clothes hitting the floor and belts being undone had you wanting to press your legs together all over again.

“Not tired, are you baby?” Changbin said softly into your ear, brushing your hair from your face.

“Of course she isn’t. She can’t be when we’re the ones who have been doing all the work, right pretty girl?” Chris’ voice was deeper now, teetering on the edge of intimidating as you peaked an eye open to see him now towering over you, shirt discarded and the belt and button of his pants undone. Though, his cock, still covered by his boxers, was hanging over the zipper, heavy and thick through the shadowed outline and so mouthwatering.

Your lack of a response made Changbin grip you by the cheeks, puckering your lips, “better answer him. He doesn’t like silence.”

The nod you gave clearly did not’ suffice, as his handle on your face was accompanied by a harsh tug to your hair, “yes! Not tired.”

Chris leaned over to be less than a centimeter from your face, “good girl.” He pecked your puckered lips and stepped off the bed, ridding the rest of his clothes.

Dazed, you watched as he undressed and Changbin followed. If you thought that they were handsome while clothed, in their nakedness the two men were straight up menacing. Changbin stood a bit on the meatier side, in more places than one as his build looked to be thicker with muscle. Though, that didn’t mean Chris wasn’t built, by no means was he skinny if his incredibly defined abs were anything to go by, traps of his shoulders looking nice enough to nibble on. As you ogled them from your spread out position on the bed, they gave each other a knowing glance, then turned their attention back to you.

“Who d’ya want to stretch you out first, pretty?” Chris asked, crossing his arms over his chest. You took your time to look both of them up and down, eyes lingering on Changbin’s thick thighs and girthy cock hanging massive. “Go on then,” the dimpled man patted his friend on the back, nudging him towards you.

As Changbin climbed up the bed to make his way towards you, Chris mumbled, “I do all the work and still get picked last. You’re gonna make it up to me, pretty.”

“Promise,” you said back to him before Changbin covered your entire view.

Changbin manhandled your panties off, but not without bringing them to his nose to sniff, “you’re right, Channie hyung. She is sweet,” and he tossed them to the side.

“I thought your name was Chris,” you looked over Changbin’s shoulder at the now established older of the two. He was amused, corner of his lip curling as his hand slowly stroked his long dick.

“It is. But we’ll see if you remember your own name by the end of the night.”

“Hey now, it’s my turn,” the younger tipped your chin gently back in his direction. You leaned up to kiss him, which was appreciated by him with an adorning hum. Hands guided one leg around his torso as Changbin readjusted to straddle your other. “Focus on me,” he said against your lips, and it was hard not to when he held you so nicely.

Chris– Chan?– tossed him a condom, which Changbin somehow skillfully opened and wrapped around his dick with ease and without pulling too far away from you. He seemed to like the closeness and the feeling of skin on skin, which only made you want to feel him more.

Your leg around his waist pulled him in, making him topple over you. Changbin giggled and kissed you once more before slicking his fingers through your folds, using the wetness to spread around his cock. He was even bigger when so close to your entrance, it was slightly nerve racking.

“Relax, baby. I’ll take good care of you,” he said, tip prodding at your slit.

“Get on with it,” Chris called from the side of the bed. Your spine shivered at the domineering tone of his voice. 

“What happened to having all night?” You called back, keeping your eyes on the man above you.

“I wouldn’t get smart before I’ve had my turn with you, pretty.”

Changbin slowly pressed his cock in, not breaking the surface just yet. “I’d listen to him if I were you. Because I have been. Appreciate the kindness while the nice one is still on top of you.”

He pushed in further, slowly sliding into your cunt as your arousal slicked your walls even more. Changbin hiked your leg higher to hold under his arm, pressed tight to his ribs as he bottomed out with little to no effort. His free hand not holding up his weight gripped onto your love handles, squeezing as he got used to the rhythmic pulsating of your walls. It took everything within him not to move at the pace he wanted from the getgo, but the little resolve Changbin had crumbled when you rutted your hips up into him, making him slide that much deeper. “More,” you whined, heel digging into his back in hopes it’d make him move.

Changbin caved at your plea and pulled out just to shallowly thrust back into you. The sheer size of him was already making your head spin, and he’d barely done anything. Your head dug back into the pillows, nails clawing at his forearms as his speed picked up and the slapping of skin filled the room. Just as you were building another high, the bed beside you dipped and the heat of another body warmed you. Chris kneeled above your head, cock in hand and leaking with precum. He didn’t need to say anything as he rolled a condom onto himself, your mouth was dropping and tongue hanging out to take him as well.

Changbin sat back and moved your leg higher to drape over his shoulder as Chris climbed to sit on your chest. He let go of his dick to free handedly aim for your mouth, and immediately sighed when your warmth engulfed him. Unlike Changbin’s soft, steady rhythm, Chris was rough, almost animalistic as soon as you’d taken him. He didn’t let you get used to the feeling of him on your tongue and forced himself deeper into your throat, gripping the headboard and using your mouth like his personal fleshlight.

You felt dizzy from lack of oxygen, lack of feeling anything except the pleasure building in your gut, lack of thought from an empty brain. All your morals and values left you as soon as you agreed to go home with them, and they weren’t coming back anytime soon. The amount of stimulation to every part of your body was overwhelming, unable to stop yourself from whimpering as Changbin’s hips became unrelenting in their stride, hitting your sweet spot every time and Chris’s uncaring nature that was painfully arousing.

The effort it took to even mumble the words, “gonna cum,” took more energy than you had to spare. You were only able to catch your breath because Chris finally pulled out to let you gain back some oxygen. Even then, he stole it away as he gripped your jaw open, “hold it,” he commanded before gathering saliva in his mouth to spit into yours. The icky feeling made you shudder, feeling like you should be grossed out, perhaps even turned off, but you were nowhere near it.

Chris turned his head slightly to look back at Changbin, “getting along back there?” The way he spoke about you like you weren’t there made your gut twist even more. Changbin’s thumb swiped at your clit unexpectedly and you clenched around him, a strained groan leaving him, “never fucking better. Wait till you feel how tight she is, hyung. God, I never wanna pull out.”

“Better wrap it up soon, Bin. Wanna cum in that pretty cunt but her mouth is real close to doing me in.”

Chris dipped into your mouth again just as Changbin’s thrusts turned shallow again, messy as he got closer to his high. His thumb rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves made your muscles tense up, trying your best to follow orders. But in your body clenching, so did your walls and apparently convulsing strong enough to milk Changbin to his inevitable orgasm, finishing in a blaze of glory into the condom without stopping his rutting. Quick, staccato’d claps of his skin on yours finished with a loud groan, shoving him deeply into you two more times before pulling out completely.

The burning in your gut diminished as the emptiness overtook you, feeling cold without Changbin’s heat. Chris pulled from your mouth just after, climbing off your chest immediately. He looked back at the younger, whose face was entirely too lax compared to you and Chris, you were jealous. The high forced to fizzle out made your body ache and twitch as neither of them touched you, just watching.

Tears threatened to fall as Chris smiled down at you fondly, “didn’t cum, did you?” He asked as if he couldn’t already tell. You shook your head, no. Chris just tilted his head and raised his eyebrows as you recalled previous instructions.

“N– no,” you choked back a sob as a grin broke across his face.

Chris climbed between your legs and massaged your thighs, “good girl.” The praise made you whimper again. “My turn, pretty.”

As quickly as his soft touch came, it went, Chris suddenly flipping you onto your belly and arching your ass into the air. His big hands spread your cheeks wide and tongue licked another fat stripe up your center, making you shiver in his hold. “Please,” you whined, reaching back to take his hand in yours.

“Look at you, asking so nicely,” Chris said, kneeling tall against your backside and swiping the head of his condom clad cock through your folds. Your wetness resounded through the room, turning to the side to see Changbin at your side and dick at full mass again. He peered down at you, cupping your cheek and sitting on his knees in front of you, pushing your hair from your sweaty face.

Before you could ask for a kiss– knowing Changbin would give it you– Chris was pushing his cock into you, not waiting for you to adjust to the large size difference. While Changbin was thick, Chris hung long, prodding at your cervix with no effort. He gripped at the fatty flesh of your ass in his palms, using it to guide you back and forth moderately paced.

You bit your lip to conceal more moans, watching as Changbin carefully took off the full condom and held it upright to keep from spilling. His hard cock was covered with his own cum, dripping down his balls. He caught you watching too intensely, “I think she’s got a thing for cum, hyung.” Changbin put you on blast for Chris, the neighbors, or anyone out on the street to hear that you wished he’d cum in your mouth. “Want a taste?”

Eyes big and round, you nodded hesitantly.

Chris continued to work himself up slowly, enjoying the show in front of him. He smirked to himself as Changbin conscientiously leaned back on his hunches and tipped the condom over, letting a bit of his cum spill onto his already soiled dick. Your mouth salivated as you leaned forward to catch the bit that dripped down the underside, tip of your tongue licking it up. Changbin watched you in awe, jaw dropped. In awe, Changbin kept his eyes on you as he spoke to the older, “treat her nicely, hyung. Look at what a good girl she is. She just wants to please us, don’t you, baby?”

Tongue sticking out as you kitten licked him, you nodded and hummed in affirmation.

“Is that right? What do you think, pretty? Do you deserve it?”

You wanted to speak, you truly did, but the infatuation with Changbin’s fat cock and his warm cum was rendering you speechless, only humming again. Chris’ hand came up just to send a harsh slap against your ass, jolting you forward. “Yes! I deserve it!”

“There ya go,” Chris sped up, his hold on your skin growing harsher as his nails dug into it to keep from slipping, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you liked the bit of pain, stomach already growing warm as the knot began to tighten.

Salty taste of Changbin on your tongue, a few loud slaps against your ass cheeks every few thrusts, and Chris mercilessly using your cunt like a toy, you were teetering on the brink in no time once again, already overstimulated from everything that came before. You were still in awe of how quickly Chris switched up on you, one second stopping at nothing to make you cum and the next, not letting you so much as think about the euphoria. Changbin’s constant attention was grounding and so wonderful, you felt tag teamed, like they meant to break you. Lucky for them, they did. Not a thought in your head other than to cum, you were begging for it with Changbin’s cock stuffing your mouth, barely even sucking because nothing could’ve taken your focus away from the knot getting closer to snapping.

Chris could feel you convulsing to no end and in time with his thrusts, feeling as though he wasn’t even pulling out. His head fell back as he pounded into you, Changbin getting off on your warm mouth and his friend and you lost in the pleasure.

He couldn’t believe it as he found himself murmuring, “ah, shit– fuck– gonna cum. Go ahead, pretty. Lemme feel you.”

Under his command, you cried out loudly and let yourself succumb to the white bliss. You don’t know how long you came, just that it went on for so long that you might’ve passed out if the two men weren’t holding you up.

When Chris pulled out, they worked together to lay you on your back, mouth covered in cum and body drenched in sweat. To say you were tired would’ve been an understatement. Exhausted but so, so satisfied. You laughed softly to yourself and smiled at the ceiling.

“Tired, baby?” Changbin kneeled beside the bed, pushing your matted hair from your face and grinning at you sweetly.

 Behind him, Chris tied off the condom and tossed it in the trash, stretching his arms across his chest and smirking deviously. “Better not be. Wouldn’t be fair if we only got to cum once, would it?”

-

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatterer @aliferousminhoinho @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydrawss @naturuless @djeniryuuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @angelica-erin-caelius @dazzlingligth @lvrminn @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @mercurezed @zerefdragn33l @crissicat13 @binnies-donuts @soldierstantgirl-blog @bakedlilgoonieie @levanterlilyy

[feartoxinjelloshot]

clipsverse SWAP AU! for fun! character elaboration under the cut because it gets kind of wordy:

selina's deal is pretty straightforward: she has the typical “saw parents die as a child" backstory, but she’s obviously not a millionare so she’s operating out of some kind of condemned underground parking lot... somewhere. authentic gotham grunge i guess. she’s a functioning alcoholic and i am obsessed with her. she's a hardboiled detective like batman, but tends to be a bit more cynical - sort of like if rorschach from watchmen was a normal person and also didn't hate sex. firefly is her "guy in the chair" similar to what alfred is to batman in canon, minus the surrogate parent part, obviously. public opinion is pretty split on if the bat is a man or a woman under there. i don't really have swap ideas for the robins ironed out, but i'm thinking that cass and stephanie are her robin and red hood equivalents (cass being dick, stephanie being jason). cass would have an allblack bird theme going on, so she might be "crow" or "blackbird" instead of robin. dunno what stephanie's red hood rendition is like. purple hood? i'll figure it out eventually.

bruce’s parents are alive, but he has a terrible relationship with them and with his own wealth so he mitigates the guilt complex by dressing up as a cat to steal and redistribute resources to people who actually need it. he could probably do that in daylight but there is something very wrong with him. i don't think his dumb slutty playboy persona is entirely genuine even without his parents' deaths, but he does lean into it more and incorporate parts of it into his vigilante persona over time. i think this version of bruce is just generally very lonely under the surface. he tries to be normal in his daytime life and he's very bad at it - theft aside, in a certain sense being the cat(man? woman?) is his own break for freedom; he felt a need to plunge himself far into the deep end of what normal society calls a 'freak'. ...writing it out like this, we're probably lucky he didn't start killing people. fortunately batman isn't really that kind of guy in any universe.

meanwhile on the other side of the rails: ivy! her deal is slightly unformed right now due to the fact that the hatter and the joker also swap places in this au - so the hatter is a dangerous, evil mastermind intent on controlling gotham to suit their whims, and the joker is... just a harmless silly little guy. yeah. i don't have swap-hatter's exact personality ironed out yet, so detailing his and ivy's dynamic would be difficult, but i can say that while she is his loyal second-in-command at his table of advisors, she is also plotting against him. ivy is a consistent loner in both mainline cv and here, and while she doesn't have the same tumultuous, antagonistic, emotional relationship with him as harley does with the joker, she is also frankly not interested in being his number one until the end of time. she wants to do it herself and she wants to do it right. this is an ivy who, in lieu of her own world-altering gift, is scraping tooth and nail to successfully supersede the most powerful entity she can her her hands on. the hatter is blissfully unaware of this - we can't all be perfect.

harley, for her part, is very tame in comparison. she mirrors ivy's canonical backstory pretty closely: an esteemed scientist studying stem cell relations who was denied funding, mocked, and forced to experiment on herself to prove a point, unwittingly connecting herself to a worldwide hive-mind of plantlife. this version of harley, while still dressed as a scientist, is far more surface-level emotionally volatile than mainline ivy, more impulsive and irrational, and probably willing to lean much farther into the classic poison ivy reputation as a villainous seductress, to varying degrees of honesty and success. it takes ivy an incredible degree of patience and control to maintain the mental and physical balance she strikes with the green, and this version of harley has far less of both. she lets it use her body as a conduit of earthly rage and she lets the poison infect her skin and organs until mottled and decaying. she's not unhappy, but she's not exactly stable, either.

jonathan is a mysterious, faux-sleazy lounge singer who lost his left arm to a snake bite infection as a child and thereafter became obsessed with the symbolism of the balance of life via games, tricks and questions - winning and losing, birth and death, etc. the ouroboros is a common symbol in his theatrics. he possesses a certain degree of social confidence that the mainline jonathan has never quite been capable of - while he doesn't have the same fervent need for attention as edward, he takes a compulsory delight in the mental influence he achieves on small crowds and will employ many avenues to get ahold of it. he's certainly not outgoing: he keeps almost entirely to himself offstage, uninterested in fame outside of his show persona. unlike mainline jonathan who views the scarecrow as a genuine self-inflicted diety, this jon sees his persona as more of a mantle or responsibility that he must take on in order to discover new truths about the world. like his canon counterpart he is asexual and uninterested in sex, but i imagine that he has less qualms about leading people on as an act to get what he wants from them. he's not terribly famous in his singing career, but he's become a bit of an underground legend for his resolute 1920s-inspired style and occasional genuine debonair charm.

edward in comparison is not nearly as ritualistically compelled as mainline scarecrow, but he’s far less cagey about his own machinations and his mental relationship to them: he lives in a tricked-out barn somewhere on the far outskirts of gotham, and he spends his time as a propmaster creating elaborate saw-trap-esque haunted houses and escape rooms to invoke panic in his “guests”. he wanders the halls of his own houses along with the guests, repairing and tinkering, or just scaring the shit out of them. he also makes a genuine living by making and selling cosplay props and other related objects online; he's developed a bit of an internet presence through this channel, though he's not as fixated on it as the mainline riddler would be. he still craves spectacle and attention, but he's more of a "quality over quantity" guy according to his own standards and is rarely happy with the work he creates, hence the endless roundabout of creation and reinvention.

[shuttershocky]

That previous TM post reminded me of something.

What really tells me the Koei Tecmo writers did their homework with Type-Moon is how Fate/Samurai Remnant slightly changes the TM theme of decay to portray that Iori has something wrong with him.

A common trope that Nasu likes to weave into his stories is how the people living today are living in the past's skeletons. Unlike a lot of media that tends to portray the past as some grandiose and magical time that met an untimely end from disaster, the past wasn't always great, it was just... Large.

A theme of slow decay permeates a lot of Nasu's works. Once, the Nanaya, the Ryougi, the Asakami, and the Fujou were fearsome, powerful clans of oni hunters, but over time they all fell to ruin slowly, with only the Nanaya really having a singular incident that can be pointed to for their fall. The Tohno were (and still are) an incredibly wealthy and influential family of oni in the guise of businessmen, but one cruel act out of line after another, and there's just an enormous, empty mansion containing a single Tohno, the family dead or scattered. Mahoyo's longest chapter takes place in a lavish, abandoned amusement park, filled with everything from a multistory house of mirrors to a giant rollercoaster where everything still works, but couldn't survive more than a few years, a foolish waste of a fortune. Kara No Kyoukai is about a rich girl that grows increasingly distant from her wealthy noble family until she leaves them to live in a completely empty apartment instead, the flashbacks to the Ryougi family showing no warmth or nostalgia despite the luxury.

Even Fate, the series all about digging up ghosts of the past and showing you how kickass these guys are, always goes into how heroic spirits are often filled with regret, having led bloody and tragic lives that caused them so much pain and yet meant that they would be remembered forever—literally removing them from the cycle of death and reincarnation to be put into another one where they are reborn and killed on a mage's whims.

The past was grand, wealthy, larger than life, and it rotted from the inside out and failed the people living today, who have to build new, simpler lives from the pieces, but might be happier that way.

FSR does something similar, though with an important difference. Just like in other TM works the past in FSR is larger than life, being the Sengoku period and the Shimabara rebellion, with both the incredibly cool sword saints and horrific massacres, but the people living today (1651) could not be happier about living in a peaceful, much more insignificant time and have no interest in what they left behind whatsoever. They're not living in the decaying remains of the past, they've rebuilt on top of it completely. You would have to be insane to look back even out of curiosity, because that would be staring into unimaginable bloodshed.

Nowhere is this better illustrated than Nasu himself talking about how the name "Miyamoto Musashi" is seen today, compared to in 1651 after Musashi had just died.

A sword-saint now, a legend, and at 60 duels with 60 wins probably the most skilled duelist to have ever lived, but for his contemporaries, he was a terrifying man that killed dozens to prove his martial skill. Nobody in Miyamoto Iori's time remembers him for being Musashi's son the way we do.

But Iori, Iori looks back. The first hint was that servants always have some connection to the master, and there's seemingly nothing in common with the king and god-slayer Saber and the humble Iori. The next was Saber's reaction seeing Iori's seemingly fearless behavior towards an enemy that could kill him in one blow (something you don't even need New Game+ to see btw, I haven't played NG+ myself lol), it was recognition.

There's a reason why Iori's main rival is Chiemon, a character whose only defining trait is being unable to let go of the bloodshed he experienced in the Shimabara Rebellion.

In FSR more than in any other Type-Moon title, the past is buried deep to the point where it can barely be seen, and yet inside Iori is the desire to dig it up. Study it. Surpass it. Find his father resurrected in his prime and kill him (her) again, to prove he would have been an even more terrifying monster than she ever was, had he been born just a little earlier.

There's something wrong with him.

[alwaysonf1]

another hamilton?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: Changes in the timeline for the sake of the story.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

The van rolls to a stop in a packed parking lot. And despite the buffer of the vehicle and the music playing inside of it, the noise from the stadium is loud and clear. 

“Are we late?” Alex asks.

Lewis smiles, shaking his head.

“No. We’re a little early actually.”

There are clearly more questions everyone wants to ask, but before anyone can voice them a producer opens one of the doors and beckons them out. All six of them pile out of the vehicle quickly. Despite Lewis confirming they have some time there’s still some uncertainty with how loud it is in there if the game hasn’t started yet.

At least they think it’s a game. Like the last four episodes filmed they were told where they'd be going and not who they were seeing and what the first sighting would be. Some of the guys only have one sibling or only one really comfortable with the limelight so it was easy to guess. But with Lewis all of this was beyond confusing.

The seven time champion didn’t usually involve himself in something of this level, so when he walked into the planning meeting for this thing it threw everyone off. Once they got past that the assumption was that it would be Nicolas. While the world knew of Lewis’ other siblings, they didn’t seem the type to agree to this.

Then they were given the destination of Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Daniel asked a million and one questions after that reveal and no one who had the information would give it to him. The man’s charm didn’t beat out their willingness to keep it all a secret so everyone could maintain some level of surprise. As if they didn’t have enough.

Charles is so in his own head about what the hell they’re walking into, that it takes a moment - and the shouting of his name - to notice that everyone is already several feet ahead of him. He jogs up to catch them and keeps his focus on what’s happening in the moment, there’s no need for him to anticipate too much of what could be coming next. 

They walk through the parking lot for a while and then turn down a path that puts them at what looks like the back of the venue. The area gives the weird sketchy vibes that you get from being late night at a track, even with all the sound going on.

At a door stands a Black woman who Charles imagines he’d be into if older women were his thing. When she smiles, he’s debating making an exception. She has curly dark hair tinged with gray and her shirt says Human Jukebox, which only serves to further confuse Charles and Carlos, who’s eyes meet his.

“Hello,” the woman says, her voice cheerful.

“Hey, Sherri,” Lewis says.

They both move forward and embrace each other, when they pull away, she places a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Where are my manners? Hello, young men. I’m Sherri Jones. It's nice to meet y’all.”

There is a chorus of greetings from everyone, and they each take a turn trying to shake Sherri’s hand, only to end up being pulled into a hug. When she gets to Charles he simply goes for the hug, and it draws a laugh from her.

“Well, I’m glad y’all could make it here. We have a little time before things get started, but we should…”

Silence falls and trumpets fill the air, then drums. A flurry of other instruments join the mix and they do so seamlessly. The song isn’t one Charles can pinpoint, but it sounds good.

Sherri winces. “It seems the Jukebox is starting up. We better get in there before we have to fight for a spot to watch them play.”

It’s a marching band. 

Though this is not at all something that he’s especially familiar with, Charles has seen the wonders that are marching bands in the US. After watching Beyonce’s Coachella set, he even went through a small phase where he wanted so many of his unreleased songs to feature a similar vibe from it. But there’s a reason it’s unreleased.

Everyone files through the door and after a few twists and turns they walk through a shaded tunnel. At the end there’s a field clear as day

On the back of the shirt Charles catches a glimpse of the words ‘Mom of a Doll.’ And though he now has the answer to what the front means, he’s even more interested in finding out what the back entails.

When they emerge, the lights are a bit blinding, but he adjusts quickly. The sounds they’ve heard since arrival, become much clearer. And the packed parking lot feels not so packed when he sees the stands filled to the brim with people. 

He notes that the crowd is predominantly Black, which leads to the quick guess that this is an HBCU. Another thing he knows of, but not much about. 

What he does know is that the energy in the place is infectious and he finds his body moving along with the band. Who stands in the stands not far from where they enter. 

As they approach the benches and lawn chairs right in front of the band - put not in the stands - they seamlessly switch to a song that feels deeply familiar, but he can’t quite name.

Though he probably can’t name it because the moment they get in front of the bench, which has a reserved marker on it for them, he notices women draped in capes walking with an elegance he can’t comprehend and so in sync that all he can think about is when he watches a race back and sees them warming tires during a formation lap.

The women fill out the four rows that are unoccupied in front of the band in a staggered formation. Only one sits in the very front row, and it piques his interest.

Charles leans toward whoever is on his left and whispers yells, “What is going on?” 

“I have no idea, but I’m into it,” Daniel says.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see the other drivers - minus Lewis - nodding in agreement. Lewis is actually standing a bit further up, with a wide smile, and staring intently. Charles steps forward to stand directly next to him and Sherri.

Excitement brews within him as he watches as each row shrug off the cape and take a seat in a domino effect. Their sparkly light blue outfits remind him of the leotards gymnasts wear and it’s a brow raising moment. He knows they aren’t going to do anything of that danger level in a location they’re in, but he can’t imagine what. Until his brain yet again goes back to Beychella.

Again, the band transitions to another song, also familiar to him, but all his brain power is on taking in what’s happening with Lewis. He’s not so sure he’s ever seen the man this happy or at least not in this way. Though he would be lying if he said he didn’t notice some of the same emotion in him now as when he’s congratulating Charles for being up on the podium.

That gets the brain turning as he remembers why they’re there in the first place, but out of the corner of his eye he sees movement in front of them.

Who he assumes is the leader slowly stands up and all eyes move to her, including his. Her brown skin is glowing, her long hair moves with her, and Charles can’t help but see how tall and long she looks, as well as the curves of her body. She’s beautiful and he can only see two thirds of her face because of the way an overhead light flashes in his.

The beat drops and she makes a sharp movement that sends her upper half down low at an angle and as she comes up her hands glide up her long leg. Each move after is just as sharp, but also fluid. She body rolls once, then again, before the next row joins. In unison they go through the routine and once the second time is done, she stops and takes a seat, kicking her leg high before crossing it over the other.

Again, like the domino effect the other rows go. Each performing twice before taking their seat the same way she did.

She doesn’t even look back to ensure that the last person is down before she rises again, arms floating into the air as she dances. She gives a spin, and her hips move in a way that makes it clear she’s at ease with what she’s doing. That it’s almost a second nature for her. 

Each movement is sensual, but in that way that entrances you, not makes you feel like a pervert for staring too hard. Though Charles does feel a little bit like one.

Just like before she takes a seat and as the last person takes her seat, her leg lifts a little more dramatically than the others, the music changes and so does the energy in the stadium. Yelling gets louder and Lewis is bouncing on his toes.

A more intense expression takes hold, and she starts the routine just as she had before, but when she comes up the sequence is different. It’s longer. And Charles feels himself take in the hype and looks to the others to see the same. Even Lance, who tends to be more reserved in public and on camera, like they are now.

The domino starts, but they all keep going until everyone has done it twice and then without missing a beat she switches to another routine. Though Charles is still unsure of what this is, he can tell that these aren’t connected in any way other than she’s made the choice to do it and the others are following her lead.

Each new one maintains its beauty, but something about it feels like a battle.

“Ooo, they’re going to throw the new one. I saw a little of them practicing it last week,” someone behind him says.

The leader turns her back to them, the band somehow gets louder, and then in the most intense of the routines yet she begins and this one is longer than the others. The moves aren’t complicated per se, but they're definitely the kind that you mess up just by lacking the musicality and the level of aggression that’s just right for it.

She does her run through, and all the girls join in. They all give it the same energy as she did, in fact Charles in awe of how they all ramp it up. It’s something he can’t imagine articulating. 

“You better!”

“Come on, Kayla.”

“Show them how it’s done, Dolls!”

“That’s my girl. Show out, Kierra!”

“That’s my baby!” Sherri says, drawing Charles attention.

Lewis cups his hands around his mouth. “Let’s go, Iman!”

Reality hits Charles, he once again remembers their purpose. Who they’re there to see. And while there is no indication from Sherri or Lewis who they’re screaming for, the smile that graces the one up front makes it clear. He stares at her in a way he didn’t before, and he sees the mix of Sherri and Lewis in her face. She’s her own person, but she definitely looks like both of them.

It’s the type of thing that makes someone feel like they could be knocked off their feet by it, even if it’s a little dramatic.

Lewis Hamilton has a college age little sister. One that radiates a similar energy and passion that her older brother brings to the track. One whose smile has Charles feeling some type of way, though he refuses to dwell on it.

Shock still gripping him he turns to look at the others and they’re equally gob smacked by it. And their camera man is getting every second of it. 

“He has another sister?” Carlos asks.

“That’s his sister?” From Lance.

“She’s so good. Like I don’t fully know what you’d call this, but it’s fucking good,” says Daniel.

Alex nods in agreement.

“Yes, it is,” Charles whispers.

When Charles turns his head back, he sees the cocky smirk on Lewis’ face and the pride is still their clear as day.

“Y’all haven’t seen anything yet,” he says.

There is no way to know what he means by that, partially because he turns his attention back to Iman where he yells more words of encouragement and because so does Charles. The girls wind down, and the domino is going in the opposite direction. It gets to Iman, and she throws in more body rolls then the routine calls for, earning more yelling, and then she sits, throwing her leg up, and then lowering it slowly.

Screams fill the stadium like never before and a smirk forms on her lips as she throws her hair over her shoulder. She smiles at her mother and brother, then she looks to the other drivers and winks.

It’s something they talk about during the game in a spur of the moment group chat Daniel makes that doesn’t include Lewis, for reasons that include fear of the man - despite nothing out of line being said. And a few of them gather in Charles’ hotel room with Arthur, and a couple other drivers, on Facetime to talk about it.

They’re enthralled and it’s a miracle nothing leaks.

And just like the information the drivers got, the title of the episode will be vague, but after they play the routine and the men’s reactions it says something like: Introducing Iman Hamilton. Secret Sibling and Captain of Southern University’s Dancing Dolls.

[the-archxr]

your sex is on fire

steve harrington x afab!reader

summary: after defeating vecna, you and steve reunite in the best way possible.

a/n: *gif is not mine, it’s from pinterest* why did this take me forever? who tf knows. also in regards to the song inspo, the title says it all (if you know, you know). for the longest time, I was stuck between writing this one and another one that wasn’t smutty, but then I had a big brain moment and decided to combine them :)

warnings: +18 content; SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT, nothing BUT smut (THIS SHIT RATED…PORN); fluffy; hella passionate sex; we survived the end of the world and now we gotta fuck sex; graphic sex; multiple orgasms; light teasing; over stimulation; switch!steve; face-sitting (oral sex, f receiving); cum-eating; hair-pulling kink; praise kink; dumbification kink?; unprotected p in v sex; creampie; LOTS of dirty talk (but it’s full of love)

word count: 4k

main m.list | steve harrington m.list

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•••

“Jesu—fuck, —.” Steve sighs. “I’m tryna’—fuck, you want us to crash?”

Your mouth drags along the side of his throat, a rogue hand slipping down his chest and to the waistband of his pants. You hardly touch him, nothing more than feather-light touches as you palm him through his joggers. You’re restraining yourself as much as possible, and yet? The poor boy shakes beneath you. Whether that’s the adrenaline from nearly dying and subsequently surviving, or simply from the way you nibble at the skin under his ear.

Either way, you need each other.

Desperately. Insufferably.

Huffing, you bite at his jaw. “Just, dammit Steve, just park the fucking car.”

“We’re almost home, —.” Letting go of his dual-grip on the wheel, he picks your hand up from his crotch and puts it in your lap: a silent and unspoken warning as the car accelerates. “I’m already breaking so many traffic laws here, babe. Won’t be able to control myself if you keep doing that.”

You hum. “That’s kinda the point, Harrington.” Leaning over the console, you kiss the corner of his mouth. “Want you now, Stevie.”

“Jesus Christ,” he whimpers, eyes rolling into the back of his head like slot machines.

Even in his attempt to increase the distance for the sake of his better judgment, the heat rages on. And you suppose, as the realization falls upon both of you, that’s what spurs him on. All while maintaining his grip on your wrists, he spins the steering wheel harshly. It’s a sudden movement that rattles your unbuckled bodies around as the beemer rolls down the street. Then, down the darkened stretch of road, your apartment materializes, and instead of slowing down, Steve presses on the gas until the car is haphazardly parked.

From that point, everything blurs together.

Never mind whatever the fuck happened within the past four hours. The only thing you could focus on was the feel of Steve’s hand around yours, the cold press of the elevator wall against your back, and the sensation of sharp teeth on your shoulder.

He kisses you then: hot and heavy and full of strangling anticipation. With one hand on your jaw, he snakes the other down to your thigh, hitching it up to his hip and securing it there. His mouth opens wide; an attempt to devour you whole as he grinds into you.

“Steve…” Tilting your head to the side, you expose the wide expanse of your neck to him. “Steve, please…” The tip of his tongue peeks out, getting lost in his own ministrations. In the mirror on the opposite wall, you watch as he tenderly licks at the soft curve of your collarbone until purple bruising appears in his wake.

The elevator dings, prying a reluctant Steve off of you. But for only a moment. Because as soon as the doors open—and he determines the coast is clear—he’s towing you behind him towards your shared room.

You stumble over your own feet; excitement sending jitters all throughout your body as Steve pushes you through the threshold and up to the wall.

And then similar to the elevator, your boyfriend juts a knee between your thighs and places your hands on his face. He kisses you deeply, instantly robbing you of any breadth as he groans into your mouth. “Was so scared for you, babe.” His teeth clamp down onto your bottom lip. “So fucking scared.”

You kiss him back with just as much fervour; soaking in the intense smell of gasoline, soot, and the remnants of his shampoo. “I’m right here.” Another kiss. “Steve,” you meet his gaze with the free hand that grips his chin. “I’m right here. I’m okay… We’re okay.” His face is sombre, the melting tension of nearly losing your life turning into dried tears and rushed kisses. Tears that are embraced by loving hands and delicate forehead kisses.

“We’re okay,” he reassures.

Your hand falls down his chest until your fingers find the skin of his abdomen and then you press a slow peck into his cheek. “Steve, if you—want you to touch me…” Gripping the edges of his shirt, you pull him into you. “Want you to fuck me, honey.”

His face ducks and disappears into your chest, the dirty curls nuzzling into your equally dirty shirt. “You sure? Cause I—fuck, baby, I don’t know if I can be gentle right now—“

Carding your fingers through the roots of his hair, you yank his head up to yours, eliciting a low whine that shoots right down to your cunt. “I’m sure.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, but a new kind of determination glazes over his eyes. Pools of warm honey darken into the colour of molasses as he pulls you from the wall and chucks his jacket onto the couch. His shirt is next, tearing itself from his body, with adventurous fingers trailing down to yours. Soon you’re both in your underwear, falling into walls and tables, knocking over vases and picture frames until you finally make it to the bed.

Steve flops down first, the old mattress creaking beneath his weight and your sudden movements as you clamber on top of him.

Knees settling on either side of his hips, you lean down to his neck. Kissing and sucking at each mole and every freckle, you soothe the bitten areas with your tongue. Taking hold of his hand you bring it up to your back where he unclasps your bra. The fabric falls over your shoulders and onto his chest, breath faltering at the sight of your entire upper half completely bare for him.

His hands glide up your rib cage, smoothing over every dip and every curve until he has a firm grip on your torso. Sitting up, he presses his chest to yours and allows his knuckles to descend over the underside of your left boob. “You’re stunning, ya know that?”

You smile. “You tell me every day.”

Steve purrs, lips capturing your nipple in his warm mouth. “I know,” he grumbles into your chest. “But today was almost the last day where I would’ve been able to.”

You frown slightly, the bittersweetness of it all beginning to dawn on you.

“Which is why I’m gonna say it more often. Can’t have you leaving this earth without knowing how much I love you.” Butterflies bloom in the space behind your ribcage, tying intricate knots around your beating heart and flying away with it towards him. It’s an earth-shattering, death-defying force that binds you to him. It’s a force that kept you both alive long enough to see today.

And it’s that same force that makes you want to ride him into oblivion.

He bites at the sensitive flesh, kneading your other breast in his hand as he rubs onto you. He’s painfully hard—a thick heaviness resting against your bare thigh that twitches in his boxers with every shift. “Which is also why…” he begins, two calloused hands coming around your back, holding you close to him. Impossibly, and breathtakingly close. “I suddenly realized what I want before I die.”

You whine at the weight of his hips bumping into yours; at the feeling of your resolve growing sluggish by the minute. You have half a mind to respond to him, although the sound you make could simply be mistaken as one of pleasure.

But regardless, he answers it. His very own personalized call and response.

“I realized that before I eventually go…” he lies back down, hair billowing out from behind his head onto the pillow. “I want you to sit on my face at least once. Want you to cum on my tongue, babe.” Shock cuts through every sensation as your eyes widen in his direction.

His proposition makes electricity prick at the goosebumps along your skin.

He wants you to sit on his face.

Steve’s eaten you out before—many times before. Quite possibly, it’s his favourite thing to do. A fact he so gladly owns up to. And in doing so, he’s had no problem pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you that way. But you’ve never sat on his face.

Part of you up until now didn’t realize you could do that. That your partner could want that.

You almost protest. Almost mumble out something about how if you sit on his face he might die earlier than you both would’ve liked. But then you see him. The faint colouration of the streetlight outside of your window, along with the reflection of the moon, illuminates him.

It highlights the rigid line of his cheekbones; the way his mouth pulls into a tight grin; the way his hair falls softly around his face and the shadows casting over his gaze—a line of sight that hasn’t once left you.

He’s beautiful.

A renaissance painting come to life. A Da Vinci model plucked out of time and placed right here before you, under you. An offering. One that commits a lifetime of undying love and passionate sex.

You almost miss the slight nod of your head, if it weren’t for the look of surprise that tugs at his features.

It doesn’t last long though because then he’s helping you out of your underwear and up his torso until your body rests in midair just above his face. You’re incredibly exposed; a different kind of trepidation drowning your veins in freezing cold water.

And then in a moment of confidence, you lower yourself just enough for you to feel his hot breath on you. You stay there for a second, surveying how you’re going to do this, and how you think Steve wants to do this. But soon, without any warning whatsoever, he’s pulling you down completely. He smothers himself until his nose is pressed into your clit and his lips rest around your entrance. You gasp at the close contact: high-pitched and sharp, reverberating off the walls of your room.

Which is when he starts to move.

His hands smooth themselves down your hips and over your thighs digging into your skin as he holds onto you for dear life. The act almost seems self-soothing, like a child rubbing their arm in an attempt to calm themselves during a storm. Though as he kisses the hooded part of your pussy, followed by the agonizing drag of his tongue between your folds, you realize that him touching you like this is just a sign that he’s enjoying himself.

And fuck, you are too.

You should’ve done this fucking ages ago.

Steve starts off with kitten-licks; gently exploring the new parts of you that have gone untouched, nose bumping over and over again into your pelvic bone as your hips shift.

There’s a sudden vibration against you, low in energy and baritone in sound. At first, you mistake it for a moan, but then you hear it again. This time it’s a little stronger to the point where you feel it in your belly and in your kneecaps. And then you understand he’s trying to talk to you.

His eyes, which look up at you from between the space of your thighs—a sinful sight that you nearly cum on the spot from—are expressive, as the muscles in his face contort. With what little strength you have, you grab onto the headboard and lift yourself off of him.

His stunted intake of breath manifests in sheepish embarrassment as you look down at him. “Sorry.”

Steve shakes his head, tendrils of damp hair sticking to his forehead. “Absolutely never fucking apologize, babe. I was just tryna ask how you were doing up there.”

Laughing, you run your fingers through his hair and push it off of his face. “Good… It feels good.”

“Good,” he grins, sliding back down to reposition himself all over again. “You taste fucking good, too.” Sighing, you attempt to steady yourself with your grip on his head. “You might wanna hold on, sweetheart. I’m not stopping until you cum.”

With as much energy as when you were taking your clothes off, Steve dives back into you and not once does he let up. You do as instructed, white-knuckling both his hair and the wall as he bobs against you.

He’s ruthless in his efforts.

Utterly ruthless.

The sounds that emanate from him rumble the lower half of your body. A divine mixture of sultry groans and hums, all tongue and teeth as he feasts on you. By now you’re completely riding his face; humping his nose with ease as your slick spreads across his mouth.

You’re a whiny mess. The feeling of your throat and fluttering hole closing simultaneously is suffocating—enough of a reason to drive you downright mad. Pressure builds in your belly, the beautifully taut knot of your nearing orgasm growing tighter; keying higher and higher with every suck of his mouth, and every grind of his chin.

“Steve…Stevie, baby…” your free hand flies to the roots of his hair, pinning him in place as you buck wildly against him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum, Steve…”

His voice is still muffled by your cunt when you realize he says something along the lines of ‘come on, pretty girl’. And that’s when the coil snaps in two, forcing your knees to close around his head and sighs to tumble out into the air.

Your orgasm seems to leave just as quickly as it came; dispersing through your veins with a painful gasp, and aching limbs finally falling limp. Steve’s quick to move out from beneath you as you collapse forward, colliding into him out of early exhaustion.

You’re panting heavily, fingers desperate to find purchase on the loose bedsheet; to ground yourself to this realm. As you calm down, the numbing sensation slowly dies down. Steve kisses you then—your taste being the only thing on his tongue, and the only thing you can truly recognize.

“You did good, babe. So very good.” Another kiss, this time to your cheek. “Can’t believe we almost died without doing that first.”

An echoey giggle escapes you, hushed into his bare chest as your fingers toy with the edges of the bandage wrapped around his abdomen. As your consciousness cements itself to your body, a sadness suddenly befalls you. A sadness that you don’t quite acknowledge until he mentions it. “Hey,” tucking your head over his shoulder, he presses his nose to the shell of your ear. “Don’t do that, yeah? I’m still here. We’re okay, remember?”

“…I know, it’s just…” for a moment you consider entertaining the tenderness in the air. You both could sit down finally and truly talk about all the shit that had gone down the past couple of days. You could address the losses—Max and Eddie, and the pain you aren’t too sure Dustin will ever get over. You could address the fear you experienced watching Steve get pulled under, and the reality that if those vines had just pulled a little tighter you would’ve all died.

These are things you know have to be talked about eventually. But that’s just it.

Eventually.

You two always figure it out. There’s a time, and a place where you and Steve will always reunite; will always meet in the middle and will always be there when the other needs to talk.

But right now you need each other for different reasons.

You are each other’s lifeline; the saving grace that you both achingly need. And all you want is to drown in it, and in him.

So that is exactly what you’ll do.

Clearing your throat, you sigh. “…It’s just I wanted to make sure you could handle it. Ya know, for what’s gonna happen…”

A smirk forms on his face at your suggestion. “‘For what’s gonna happen?’” You nod into him, acutely aware of how he attempts to take his underwear off with you still on him. Sitting up, you move down his chest until your hips meet his; nearly joined completely and awaiting the inevitable green light.

It’s a moment of silence in which neither of you can operate properly. You both are far too caught up in the feel of each other to process what dysfunctionality even means; to understand the implications of how lucky the two of you were today.

Your hands cross over his chest until you’re stable enough to hoist yourself up as he aligns his dick with your entrance. The silence is deafening: thick as a sweltering fire and as deadly as oxygen. It isn’t until you see the way Steve’s chest heaves, powerful and rugged as he stares up at you through thick lashes, that you quickly exhale. “Think you can handle me, Harrington?”

He doesn’t spare a beat.

Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, he waits—abdomen constricting with every daunting inhale. Grabbing the back of your neck, he pulls you towards him, holding you only inches away from his face. “Think you can handle me, —?”

It’s that single sentence that sets off the chain reaction. A tumbling domino effect that begins with him jamming his tongue in your mouth at the same time he shoves inside of you. You let out a repressed gasp, one that he swallows without a second thought. He takes the time and the opportunity to suck on your tongue until your tastebuds are swollen. He bites at the sound of your moans, moving against you in continuous motions as your mind slips into darkness.

Steve doesn’t give you time to adjust to him in any way. His hips, desperate to feel you, and desperate to fuck you, already begin moving. Everything, from your surroundings to the man before you, works in tandem to wind you up just that much more. From the sound of Duran Duran playing faintly from your downstairs neighbour to the grip he has on your neck—everything collaborates until a blinding symphony. It’s an obscene, disgustingly pornographic view. One that only worsens when Steve’s intent gaze falls to where he pistons into you; spearing you on his cock until you're fucked stupid.

You watch the vein in his neck strain against him as he controls himself. “What were you saying…a—about me being able to handle it, sweetheart?” He grunts out.

Gritting his teeth together, he peeks out from behind a curtain of fallen hair. “As far as I can see…” he gives you one particularly hard thrust, connecting your hips and allowing for the tip of his cock to kiss that spongey part within you. “You’re the one who’s cock drunk, babe.” He lays a gentle smack to the globe of your ass, earning a whimper from you. “Not that I mind. Wanna’ show you just how much I fucking love you.”

Keeping up his tempo, Steve soldiers on. Pulling your head back farther and farther with every thrust, he marks up the skin along the column of your throat. Crying out, you screw your eyes shut and dig your nails into his biceps. Neediness gets the better of you, tricking your body into rocking him in your very own pattern. “Stevie…”

With a shaky exhale and aching hands, you make a feeble attempt to hold onto him. “I—fuck, Steve, I wanna, I wan—oh my god.”

Your second climax hits you immediately. The barely-there build up bleeding into a crashing high that leaves no room for coping.

You are still around him, inner walls squeezing him like a vice. Your toes have begun to curl in response, your body having lurched forward as you try to string words together to form a coherent sentence. Though, with the way, he’s been fucking you…

And if he keeps fucking you like this…

You consider you may never be able to speak again.

He kisses you for the thousandth time that night, hushing your uncontrollable babbles as his hips pick up speed. “Don’t need to say anything, pretty girl, already doing so good.” His large palm keeps your hips still as he drives into you, the incessant panting in your ear making you wet all over again. “So,” another snap of his hips. “So,” and another. “…fucking good.”

You whine as your vision goes cloudy—evidence of yet another orgasm taking charge. “Think you can give me another one, babe? I think you can… Fuck, I know you can.” Steve’s voice drifts in and out of your ears. Part of you thinks you hear him, and the other part, the one lost to time and space, can’t hear him at all.

With your limp body still in his arms, and with his pace unrelenting, Steve leans back into the headboard with a loud thud. Entangling your limbs as close as possible with his, he presses hot kisses into the side of your head, hooking his chin over your shoulder. He takes a second to readjust your body on his before speaking. “You’re gonna give me another, okay? Want you to cum one more time.”

“I don’t think I can,” you lie. It’s a half-baked one. A shitty excuse of an attempt to alleviate your delicious suffering. Your pussy is swollen. Abused and puffy and probably, undeniably red. It’s gratifying and damning all at once. Which is why you lie. Though the flames of satisfaction; the culmination of adrenaline, arousal, fear and desire, lick at your belly and swirl in the pit of your stomach, you lie.

You’re overstimulated.

Incredibly so.

But you know he won’t stop, because you couldn’t trick yourself into thinking you even wanted him to.

“Yes, you can.” It’s a breathy command. Quiet and slow, an opposing force to its true intention. The words are out in the open, the ground rules set in stone and presented on a silver platter. But you can’t tell if he’s talking to you, or himself, making the already complicated situation that much more complicated. Sweat makes his fingers slip, and makes his body loosen beneath you as he tries to maintain his grip. He’s struggling at this point; the feeling of him swelling in you growing more and more apparent. You can tell he’s close. So fucking close.

And you are too.

You’re right. Fucking. There.

“Almost there, baby. Just a—“ he slams you down onto his lap. “Just a bit more…”

Moaning erratically, your nails scratch down his back, your body not being able to do much else as he moves you in place, up and down on his hilted shaft. “Oh my god, yes. Yes, yes—fuckyes—right there.” A cry rips out of your throat as your upper body falls slack. “Fuck, Steve, yes!”

Your third orgasm shatters you completely. In every way, it destroys you; locking up your muscles and your mind, and ridding you of anything that isn’t white-hot pleasure. You scream in response, the record-scratch sound taking with it every last ounce of energy from your bones until you’re a pliable heap of arms and legs.

You feel as though you’re floating; the mindless darkness of earlier morphing into blotches of bright colours and glittery stars.

It’s all-consuming. All-encompassing as time passes on in what seems like a different universe.

Yet even in your haze you know Steve’s not too far behind.

“God, I love you. Love this—love this fucking pussy. Love you. Fuck.” Holding you in place, he loses control as his own high dominates him. The dam breaks, and his hips come to a stuttering stop with his own climax. Warmth pooling in your cunt as he flops on top of you, still holding you close as you take each other in.

There’s a nagging part of you that pressures you to acknowledge what happened today. To confront Steve about it; to act on it like a healthy couple does. But the sight of him nearly asleep makes you weak. And so you decide to trade in the stress and pain of today for peace as the two of you lay there; breathless and spent as you slowly renter your bodies. Bringing your legs up to Steve’s hips, you wrap yourself entirely around him, until all you can smell is fresh sweat and old smoke.

“Have I ever told you that I’m in love with you?” He kisses the area where your heart rests, canting his body so that he’s comfortably cuddled up to you.

You laugh softly. “…A time or two.”

•••

Steve Harrington Taglist (+18)

@freaky-dcaky @spideyssunflower @detectivecarisi-1 @superfanmixromancepony @bookfrog242 @spectorfilms @serrendiipty @keepingitlokiii @v0idl1nq @blindedbyyourgrace17 @mrmoonman @emileebert14 @wordle233 @demirunner @randomlyblue @sad-innit @smarie7543 @scoopsahoyharrington @moonknightyws @imanilizabeth @gracie-marvel @liltimmyst

[piratekane]

i love hearing about you and your wife it gives me so much warmth and hope - if your comfortable, do you have a first meeting or first date story? totally ok if you'd not share! i hope you and your wife have a wonderful anniversary, 11 years is quite a feat!

oh ho ho you've unlocked my special interest. i love talking about our first meeting/date.

(a read more because i did not make this short)

we actually "met" on tumblr! we both signed up for this penpal blog where you got matched with someone who had similar interests as you. i verified with my wife this morning and we both said we liked cats-i'm assuming that's what they matched us over. i dropped a joke in her inbox that went unanswered for days despite her reblogging and posting and was like welp, that was a good shot, champ, but you messed it up. no friends for you.

now, this was in the days when tumblr's inbox system (which limited you to 10 asks a day) ate every other message. so it's not that she didn't think it was funny, she just didn't get it. i found this out when i dropped the same joke a second time in her inbox and lo and behold! she thought it was funny. (i have recycled this joke many times over the year and always get an eye roll. like, babe. it's a classic. it's the thundapants joke!)

she did not think it was funny when i told her i was a transplant living in the the armpit of massachusetts because-lo and behold a second time-that's where she grew up and was also still living! it was an auspicious start for me, truly. we figured out that we had a bunch of things in common-i did my student teaching at her high school when she was a senior there, i was a substitute teacher for her little sister's 8th grade class, we missed each other in college by a couple of classes, my roommate and best friend worked at the PT office my wife frequented. we kind of went around each other for a while before we finally landed in the same place.

it took me a month and a half of my best jokes to convince her to go on a date with me because, as she said, she was super nervous. i was like, you have not truly met me yet because i am the stupidest person on earth and not worthy of nervousness. but she finally said yes! and we went out to a local chinese restaurant for crab rangoons. it shared a parking lot with the diner i worked at so i ate there all the time and the people there were so surprised i was (a) sitting down to eat and (b) eating with somebody!

(thus began our tradition of ending up on someone else's first date. the couple behind us was clearly meeting for the first time. he was telling her his credit score and that she could order whatever she wanted off the menu, no worries because he could pay for it. we cringed each time he opened his mouth but it was kind of perfect in a way because it gave us something to whisper about. we have since ended up on way too many first dates to count. it is kind of just a thing that happens to us, no matter where we go.)

our date was really, really good. we had talked A LOT via tumblr inbox (messages didn't exist yet) and the conversation just kind of picked up in person. so much so that 4 hours went by and they were putting up the chairs. and then we talked for a while in the parking lot too until my roommate hit me with the "are you alive or did she murder you and dump your body somewhere?" text. i left her on read and kept talking until the restaurant locked up and all the people went home. i just didn't want to leave. i felt like i knew my wife already, you know? like things just clicked. she was funny and intelligent and she listened when i went on the first of many, many tangents. her patience for me is unmatched and started out that way.

we spent the rest of the summer we lived there spending as much time as we could together. i distinctly remember doing short order cook shifts at the diner i worked at and then rolling up to her house to pick her up and drive around. we had to drive with the windows down because my clothes just effused grease from the fryers. we watched so many movies at my apartment-which is hilarious because about a year into our relationship she informed she was NOT a movie person, she just wanted to spend time together. we have watched maybe ten movies together since that first year.

then i got a full-time job on the other side of the mountain, we moved, bought a house, got married, and the rest is history. but we get crab rangoons on every anniversary and do a lame-o instagram post about each other and i continue to be the stupidest person in the room, just very stupid over her.

[multi-fandomfuckboy]

Stranger Than Fiction

Part 20: Snowball

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 21 (Coming Soon)...

AN: Long time coming for this one! I hope you guys enjoy it! I had a great time writing it and I have honestly been thinking about this for a while so it's so good to finally get it posted! I want you all to know that this is only a season finale and is NOT the end of the story. We have a little ways to go ❤️

Word Count: 4,569

Warnings: Anxiety, mentions of death, dancing, guilt, mentions gun

The coming days are a blur. There was a lot of talking that night. Everyone explaining their side of the crazy story that had been unfolding all around you. The pieces began falling into place and by the end of it you had a pretty clear picture of what had occurred over the past 4 days and where exactly you fit into it. 

By the time the stories merged together everyone was ready to sleep for a week. You went with Steve to drop off Dustin while Jonathan dropped off Nancy, Mike, and Lucas. It was around 3 in the morning when you finally got home, Steve’s car pulling to a stop in front of your house. You feel nervous. Exhausted but on edge, still worried about the darkness lurking around the corners. 

You jump when Steve places a hand on your knee. Meeting his eyes in the dim light of the car you see understanding. He doesn't want to be alone either. 

“Do you mind if I stay here?” He asks. You look at your empty house and for a moment think of your mom coming home in a few hours and finding Steve Harrington on her couch. But when you look back to Steve, you can’t imagine being alone right now, not yet. “My parents aren’t home and… I don't know, I just…” He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair frustrated. 

“No.” You cut him off. “You can stay, I-I feel the same way.” you admit, smiling gently. He returns your smile gratefully. You instruct him to park a little ways down the street so he can sneak out when your mom gets home. 

The two of you enter the house and you lead him to your bedroom, grabbing extra blankets from the hallway closet. You set up a little sleeping area for him on the floor next to your bed. You each take turns showering, and you let him borrow some of your baggiest clothes to sleep in. When you are both settled in bed, there is a tense silence. You don’t know how to tell him that you're grateful he’s here. That you feel better knowing he’s next to you after all of this. 

“Can you leave the light on?” he asks. You smile up at the ceiling. 

“Yea.” you say, there was no way you were turning off the light anyway. After another beat of silence you turn onto your side, lowering your arm off the bed and take his hand. He threads his fingers through yours without hesitation. It’s the most comforting thing you can think of right now, and it seems to work because both of you are asleep in minutes.

You wake up a few hours later to the sound of your mom coming in. You wake Steve and quickly sneak him out the window before going to greet your mom. She only has a couple of questions about your weekend at Nancy’s and you do your best to come up with a story. She doesn't press though, most likely just relieved that you’re spending time with friends like you used to. 

It is strange going back to school. Similar to the last time, but now everything just feels… silly. Days ago you were fighting for your life against other worldly creatures and now Mr. Johnson is asking if you completed the make-up assignments. It’s enough to give you whiplash. 

Luckily, you have Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan there. Never all at the same time though. Things are still uncomfortable now that Nancy is officially dating Jonathan. Steve hasn’t talked to you about it once. You know that he thinks if he keeps on acting like he doesn't care, eventually he won’t. But you see it in his eyes each time he sees them together, his heart is broken. 

You and Steve have been hanging out a lot more now, even without Nancy. Something about surviving a near death experience together really makes a friendship stronger. Nancy had Jonathan so Steve had you. 

Things are still strange between you and Nancy. Even after everything came out and Hawkins Lab took responsibility for Barb's death, there still seemed to be this space between the two of you. You, sometimes, wonder if it will ever be the same between you. If it ever could be. 

You are working on it though. Making an effort to remain friends with her. You still love her, but it’s different now. You both are. 

You manage to attend Barb’s funeral. You don’t remember most of it. The chilling numbness creeping over you, the fog descending in your mind as the priest spoke and they brought out the casket. You know that you cried and that when you started to shake Steve wrapped an arm sound you. You couldn't watch as they lowered the pine box into the ground, turning your face into Steve’s shoulder. He didn't say anything, and you're thankful for that. At some point Nancy took your hand, squeezing it tightly, crying next to you. It was comforting to know that Barb’s parents would get some amount of closure, but you doubt you will ever be able to look at them without feeling the stab of guilt. 

It’s good to finally be able to grieve the loss of Barb, with Nancy. It heals some of the space between you. As the weeks go by most of your time together is spent filling out late admission college applications. It doesn't feel as daunting when she is talking you through the process. She even helped you submit a couple of creative writing scholarships. It’s strange, actually thinking about the future.

Mrs. Henderson must have spread the word that you were babysitting again after she ran into you the night you were looking for Dart, because the next week you started getting calls. You were hesitant at first but with the thought of paying for college looming over you, you slowly started to take jobs. Keeping it within the party at first, but eventually branching out. 

You never did get a call from the Hargrove house though. 

You haven't spoken to Billy since that night. You have seen him around, of course. In the halls, in class, driving by. But, every time your eyes meet he looks away quickly or avoids you completely. You try not to dwell on it too much, when you think about that night you can’t ignore the twisting in your gut.

Billy not speaking to you could have something to do with Steve, who had not gotten over his broken nose yet, sticking close to your side. You had tried to explain to Steve that he didn’t have the whole story. But, it's difficult to do that without sharing things that were not yours to share. 

You can’t say that you mind. Steve is one of the few people you would trust with your life. But, it’s getting a bit ridiculous. You swear that any time Billy comes close to you, Steve will angle his body to block you. He always plays it off, but you know that it’s intentional. 

A new routine starts to form as the weeks pass. You still walk each morning, Steve driving you to school most days. You typically spend lunch with Steve as well, since Nancy normally eats with Jonathan in his car. After school you spend an hour doing homework and college prep with Nancy. You pick up babysitting jobs on Tuesdays, Thursdays and weekends. The rest of your time is filled with writing. 

The stories are still dark, mirroring the dreams that still haunt you each night. It just seems like the best way for you to get the darkness inside of you out, on paper. Luckily you haven’t felt anything close to what you felt in your mind the night El closed the gate. The only person you had told about it was Steve, both of you agreed that since it had stopped there was no need to worry the rest of the group.  

When the Snowball approaches Nancy convinces you to volunteer with her. She explains that it would look good on scholarship applications. You agree, and that’s how you ended up picking up trash around the middle school gym. 

You found an outfit in the back of your closet that you are fairly certain hasn’t seen the light of day in 2 years. Despite your mom’s best efforts, it still managed to look wrinkled. 

It isn’t all bad. The music is decent and you get to spend a bit of time with Nancy, reminiscing about your own middle school dances. Best of all though, is watching the awkward pre-teens navigate their feelings for one another. There's something refreshing about the way they take a deep breath, stealing their resolve, before taking the plunge and asking their crush to dance. Their minds, undoubtedly, spinning with panic and fear of rejection. 

It must seem so important to them, so terrifying. That’s what kids their age should be scared of. Not monsters and government cover ups. 

You smile to yourself, watching Lucas pair off with Max. You had seen that one from a mile away. A girl even asks Will to dance. You watch Dustin attempt to ask a girl to dance. She laughs and walks away. He turns to try again, only for the other girls to turn away. Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze. He looks around lost, alone… before heading for the bleachers. 

Setting down your trash bag you take a step towards him but feel a hand on your elbow, stopping you. Turning you see Nancy smiling knowingly at you. 

“I got this one.” She says, nodding in Dustin’s direction. Her smile is kind but there is a glint of sadness in her eyes. “Kind of reminds me of when we first met.” Your brows draw together, trying to recall when that was. You have known each other for so long it is hard to say. Seeing your confusion she chuckles softly. 

“We were all so little, I’m not surprised you don’t remember.” She says kindly. “Barb and I were at the park, and there was this group of boys that kept messing with us, knocking over our toys and pulling our hair.” The sadness in her eyes makes sense, the memory flashes through your mind. 

How could you forget the day you all became friends? 

“We were both crying on the bench when you came out of nowhere and started yelling at them.” you laugh at the memory, tinged with the sadness of missing your friend. “I’m not even sure you were saying actual words.” She recalls chuckling. 

“I think I was pretending to be a dog.” you add causing her to laugh. 

“Well whatever you did, you scared them away and got our toys back. When you came over you told me that we looked sad and scared so you wanted to help.” Her gaze flickers to where Dustin sits on the bleachers. “You’re the reason we all became friends in the first place.” She says, her voice laced with sadness. “You’re always trying to help, and I guess what I’m trying to say is… Thank you.” When your eyes meet hers again there is a glint of unshed tears in her eyes. 

Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you smile, pulling her into a hug. She holds you tightly. 

Clearing your throat you pull away, not wanting to cry in the middle of a dance. 

“You got this one.” you say gruffly, moving to pick up your trash bag. Nancy gives you one last smile before crossing the gym to Dustin. You watch her lead him to the dance floor, gently showing him how to dance. Your heart aches watching them. Memories of Nancy, Bard and you dancing together fill your mind. Nancy doing her best to get the two of you to move in any coordinated manner, eventually devolving into a mass of giggles and jumping around. 

You have to turn away. You continue around the gym, picking up trash, until you see Eleven walk in. Mike sees her instantly. You watch as he leads her to the dance floor, the two of them cautiously coming together, so happy to be in the same place, together, alive. They awkwardly sway to the music and you can’t help but recall what Max had said to you on the kitchen floor. The comparison she had made between Mike and yourself. 

Seeing Mike reunited with the person he thought he had lost hits you in a way you were not prepared for. The idea that something so amazing could happen for them and the fact that it would never happen for you. El is back, but Barb is gone forever. A bitter resentment twists in your gut, acidic bile rising in your throat at the thought. 

You're disgusted at yourself for the feeling. You should be happy for them. What kind of monster thinks something like that? 

The large gym suddenly feels too small, the music disorienting. The jumble of bodies makes it too warm. Your palms feel moist where they grip the black trash bag with white knuckles. Looking around frantically, you see the exit out the back of the gym and hurry towards it. 

Pushing open the doors you rush out of the bustling gym into the freezing December night. The frigid air bites at your feverish skin, soothing you. You focus on taking deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You stare after each exhalation, a small puff of breath shimmering in the dim light. Each inhale like ice, slowing the pounding of your heart, cooling the fire churning in your mind. After a few moments, your breathing comes more evenly and you run a shaking hand though your hair. 

The world around you is so still. The cold seems to have calmed the earth, as well as your racing mind. Standing in the alleyway between the gym and the rest of the school, you gaze up at the night sky. The inky darkness speckled with shining stars. It’s calm. The sound of music drifting softly from behind you. 

Hearing something move in the darkness to your left, you jump. Turning, you freeze, spotting a shadowy figure leaning against the wall in front of the dumpster, roughly 100 feet from you. You can’t make out their features from this far away in such low lighting. You see the low glow of embers flickering at the end of a cigarette that dangles from their lips. 

Your body is rigid, muscles taught, your hand reflexively moving to your waist despite knowing your pistol is not there. Before your mind can decide between fight or flight the figure speaks. 

“So, they put you on trash duty, loca?” A familiar voice calls. You feel yourself relax at the sound of Billy’s voice, releasing a breath. Billy pushes himself off the brick, standing upright as you approach, your eyes adjust to the light and you see him more clearly. 

“Lurking in alleyways now?" You ask, drawing closer. "Very cool.” you shoot back, hoping the panic is gone from your voice as you stop in front of him. His outfit is more formal than you are used to seeing, a collared blue button up that matched his eyes well, along with a leather jacket and jeans. You vaguely wonder if the jacket is doing much to keep him warm. His lips twitch upwards at your comment, the embers of his cigarette glowing brighter as he inhales again. 

“Not lurking, just…” He turns his head upwards, exhaling the smoke above your heads before levelling his eyes back on you. “Chaperoning.” He finishes, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the ground, using the toe of his boot to extinguish the remaining embers.

“That makes two of us.” You say, taking a step around him to get to the dumpsters lining the alleyway. Setting the garbage bag down, you open the lid of the large green container allowing it to fall back clanging against the metal loudly. You reach for the bag, preparing to hoist it in, but Billy’s hand beats you to it. 

“I got it.” He says, quickly lifting the bag and tossing it in with little effort. You stare at him for a moment, confused. 

“Thank you.” You say, hesitantly. He wipes his hands on his jeans, only grunting in response.

He hasn’t said so much as a sentence to you in over 6 weeks and now he’s doing you favours? Turning back to you, he shoves his hands into his pockets. He seems to make himself look somewhat smaller, hunching his shoulders slightly. You’re reminded of the way he had shrunk next to his father, your stomach flipping uncomfortably. His eyes find yours and you see the conflict in them. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but stops, closing it again. 

The only sound between you is the music drifting from the dance. His eyes hold yours and you have to look away, suddenly feeling warm under his intense gaze. You clear your throat, hoping to relieve some of the tension. 

“Well, I-uh, I should…” you trail off, gesturing behind you to the doors leading back to the gym. Billy’s eyes remain transfixed, you feel heat begin to creep up your neck. Swallowing thickly, you move to take a step back, hoping to avoid any confrontation. 

Before you can pull further away Billy’s hand reaches out, grasping your arm. His hold on you is surprisingly gentle, almost hesitant, and you notice that despite the cold air, his palm is warm. Glancing down at where his hand makes contact with your skin, you notice the healed scars on his knuckles. Your mouth suddenly feels dry. He clears his throat, drawing your attention back to his face. 

“Listen, I’m not really… good… at stuff like this.” He admits gruffly. His eyes hold yours, his brows pulling together as the small muscle in his jaw flexes. You swear that in the dim light you see a dusting of pink in his cheeks, it must have been the cold. You wait in silence, watching him struggle to speak.

“Thank you.” he practically has to spit the words out. Your mouth gaps slightly. Billy was not one for niceties and you’re fairly certain this is the first time he has thanked you for anything. 

Your shock turns to confusion, not entirely sure what he’s thanking you for. 

“For what, exactly?” you ask as gently as you can. His eyes shift, falling to his boots. 

“For that night you helped me find Max.” he explains, avoiding your eyes. “You really saved my ass with Neil.” he goes on. Your stomach twists at the memory. More specifically the way Neil had looked at his son as he stood, terrified, on the front steps. It had put you on edge then and now you know for good reason. 

The gratitude you had seen in Billy’s eyes before he disappeared into the house suddenly makes sense. You have no idea what Neil would have done if you hadn’t insisted on speaking with him that night, but if Billy’s demeanour is anything to go by, it couldn’t have been good.  

“You’re welcome.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. Billy’s eyes meet yours again as he takes half a step closer to you. Against your will, your heart races at the proximity. You are suddenly aware of the heat radiating off of him, making the empty air behind you feel even colder. The hand encompassing your arm twitches, the warmth from it seeming to creep over your skin. You find yourself wanting to draw closer, to close the small distance between you and be consumed by the warmth. There is a pause of silence, the music emanating from the gym filling the space. 

“Dance with me.” Billy says, suddenly. It’s less of a request and more of a gentle demand. You gap up at him not knowing what to say. It’s such an outlandish offer. It’s the middle of December, in an alleyway behind the gym at a middle school dance. His lips twitch upwards at your bewildered expression. 

“What? Never danced with a guy before?” He asks, in a tone meant to be teasing. Your face heats up as you try to recall a time that you had been asked to dance, it had to have been in 8th grade. 

“N-no, I have.” you deny. “It’s just we’re in an alleyway and- and it's freezing out.” you try to explain your hesitance, his grin only growing wider. The flash of his white teeth makes your stomach flip. 

“Don’t worry loca, I’ll lead.” He assures you, the hand on your arm sliding down to gently hold your waist. He takes another step towards you and all the excuses die on your tongue as he smiles softly down at you. Your mind races, trying to recall what Nancy had taught you. 

Squaring your shoulders towards him, you place your hands, arms extended, on his shoulders. Billy’s brows pull together, taking in your rigid posture. 

“Jesus christ, what are you? 12?” he asks. You open your mouth to bite back at him but the hand on your waist pulls you closer, pressing your body fully against his. Your breath hitches as he slots one of his legs between yours. 

“Now your arms go here. '' he instructs, his free hand moving your arm up around his neck, moving you, impossibly, closer. Your heart is pounding against your ribs so hard that you're certain he can feel it through where your chest is pressed against his. His hand trails down your side to your back, holding you against him with a firm pressure. He lowers his head, leaving the only space between you a few inches between your faces. You can feel his warm breath mingling with yours. 

“Now feel the music, move with it.” He instructs, his tone gentler now, just a whisper between you. You can feel his breath fanning across your cheeks, under the smell of cigarettes you smell his peppermint toothpaste. You do your best to focus on the song over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. Taking a deep breath you begin to shift your feet slightly. Billy clicks his tongue. 

“Loosen up a little, move from here.” He tells you his hands sliding down your sides to grip your hips, moving them against his in time with the music. You’re not fully aware of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, too consumed by the way his body is moving. Feeling him sway along with you helps you move more rhythmically. The two of you begin slowly, building your confidence, Billy leading you. His body seems to consume you, guiding you along with him. Part of you is amazed at how he is able to fluidly move the two of you together as one, along with the music. 

You begin to move independently, feeling more confident, his arms always around you. Becoming engrossed in the way the two of you are moving together, not even aware of the cold anymore. Your hand absentmindedly moves along his shoulders to the base of his neck, your fingers threading through his curls. They are surprisingly soft. You hear Billy hum, the sound vibrating through his chest. Without warning, he bows his head, leaning forward into you while his hands support your back, lowering you into a dip. 

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up in your chest. Billy chuckles at your reaction, lifting you back up. Your smile remains on your face as he continues to move the two of you. 

As the music slows, so does he. You pant a breath, trying to contain your smile as he slowly comes to a stop. He smiles back down at you in a way you haven’t seen before, his blue eyes sparkling. The closest you had seen was when he was talking about California, or when he was drugged. It makes your head feel fuzzy. He still holds you close to him, his eyes on you. With his eyes searching your face so intently, you suddenly feel embarrassed, averting your eyes. 

“Thanks.” you say, not even sure what you’re thanking him for, but feeling like it needs to be said. You feel his hands tighten slightly on your waist. 

“Don’t mention it.” he breaths. There is a pause, your eyes glancing back up to him. Your heart skips a beat when his eyes shift over your face, flickering momentarily to your lips. “I owe you anyway.” he chuckles, pulling himself away slightly. Without his body pressed against yours, you're aware of the cold air is around you. As much as you want to pull him close again, you reluctantly remove your arms from him. 

You're about to ask him what he means by owing you when the sound of the gym doors opening startles you both. Nancy stands in the opening, peering out into the alleyway. Seeing her before she can make out your face in the dark, you take a step away from Billy, his hands falling from your waist. Finally seeing you, Nancy sighs.

“Hey, I was looking for you.” She says. You try to smile, tugging at your clothes, suddenly aware of how wrinkled they are. 

“Sorry, I was taking out the trash.” You explain, hoping that the darkness conceals the reddening of your face. Nancy’s eyes narrow, adjusting to the darkness, darting between you and Billy before settling on you. One brow quirked inquisitively. “Right.” she says. You know that her investigative mind is already spinning. “Just making sure you’re okay.” It's a question. Nancy knows what happened between Billy and Steve. She knows what he is capable of, something you had momentarily forgotten.

“I’m good.” you assure her, smiling as best you can. “I’ll be back in a second.” you say quickly. Nancy glances at Billy once more before nodding and closing the door. 

Exhaling, you turn to look at Billy. His gentle smile has been replaced by a cocky smirk, it makes you want to shove him. 

“Smooth.” He crows, stepping back to lean against the wall. Rolling your eyes you run a hand through your hair, goosebumps rising on the skin of your arms, trying to put the way Billy had felt against you out of your mind. Glancing at him, you watch as he fishes his pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. You’re not sure what compels you, but you swallow past your embarrassment and speak up.

“Did you want to come inside?” You offer. Billy levels his eyes on you, a new cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Nah, I’m good ‘chaperoning’ from here.” He says, putting air quotes around the word, before retrieving his lighter and igniting the cigarette. Part of you wants to stay, another part wants him to come with you, but in the back of your mind you know that he will stay and you will go. That’s the way that it has to be, for now.

Turning, you head for the doors back to the bustling gym.

“I’ll see you around, Loca.” Billy calls after you.

Despite everything, you smile at the familiar goodbye.

“See you, Billy.” You reply, before opening the doors, walking back into the light of the gym, leaving Billy in the cold, dark, outside. 

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 21 (Coming Soon)...

AN: I hope you guys liked it! Finally a bit of steam in this slowburn!! Just a little taste of what's to come! Let me know what you guys think, leave a like of a comment! I read every one of them and appreciate it SO MUCH!

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[nofomogirl]

Before the Beginning (part 1.2.)

Part 1.1. | Part 1.3. | Part 1.4. | Part 1.5. |

Part 2.1. | Part 2.2. | Part 2.3. |

This series of posts is about the opening scene of S2. Obviously. In every X.1. post I will propose one theory of what I believe the scene tells us about the universe and the characters, and then in the following X posts (X.2. and on) I will interpret scenes from both seasons applying and further examining thet theory.

My first theory, which I presented in the opening post, is that the Fall was a far more transformative event than both we, the audience, and the characters in the show, especially Aziraphale, have ever realized. I believe it's communicated to us by showing us pre-Fall Crowley who has no serpentine traits, from which we can infer that he had no serpentine nature either. It had only appeared after the Fall.

Now I'd like to examine the scenes where Crowley's past angelic identity is ever brought up.

In this post, we'll be looking at the (in)famous Bandstand Breakup from S1E3. The beginning of that scene is one of the earliest instances Crowley's past angelic identity is ever brought up properly.

Here's the original dialogue:

A: It's the Great Plan Crowley. C: Yeah. For the record, great pustulent mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan! A: May you be forgiven. C: I won't be forgiven. Not ever. That's part of the demon's job description. Unforgivable. That's what I am. A: You were an angel once. C: That was a long time ago.

I'm not going to lie, I didn't notice anything unusual about it after S1. It's a brief exchange and the Bandstand Breakup is a heavily emotional scene, so even after multiple rewatches it got lost for me among all the other things that were going on.

If anything, my interpretation was that Aziraphale meant Crowley might not be as unforgivable as he claims. But I really wasn't thinking too much about it.

But now that I have a reason to look specifically at those two lines, they are very unusual.

Just compare them to the dialogue from the very same episode, from the 1862 St. James Park scene:

C: Look, I've been thinking. What if it all goes wrong? We have a lot in common, you and me. A: I don't know. We may have both started off as angels but you are fallen.

And, OK, this was somewhat unusual too, but only in how extreme it was, not in the sentiment either of them was expressing. It was perfectly on-brand for Crowley to try and bring Aziraphale's attention to how the differences between them weren't really all that big or significant. It was just as perfectly on brand for Aziraphale to insist they were on opposite sides.

In fact, they both express the very same sentiments during the bandstand scene.

Except in those early lines I quoted where their roles are practically reversed for a brief moment. By pointing out that Crowley was an angel once, it's Aziraphale who tries to convince Crowley they are more similar than it may appear. And by brushing Aziraphale off it's Crowley who shuts down that line of reasoning and underlines the divide between them.

You must admit it is unusual.

So why would they?

When it comes to Aziraphale, it's important to remember that at the time this scene was happening, he was in an exceptional and very difficult position. I've already addressed it in one of my older posts, so I'm just going to quote myself:

"At the end of episode 2, Aziraphale learned who and where the Antichrist was and it was the first piece of real information he got that could actually make a difference. He needed to make a choice about what to do with it and it pretty much paralysed him.

First, immediately after finding out, he got a call from Crowley asking for updates and lied claiming he didn't know anything. Then he arranged the meeting with the Archangels but withheld most of the information and when asked directly where the Antichrist might be he lied again that he wasn't sure. Then he met Crowley face to face (this is where the scene we're discussing takes place), once more lied (by omission) about the Antichrist, insisted he wouldn't tell him anyway, and eventually broke up with him. The next day he approached Gabriel and tried to reason with him by mentioning "human prophecies" but not the Antichrist. Then Crowley approached him again and was rejected again. And finally, he got cornered and assaulted by Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon.

Frankly, I haven't even noticed it before, with all the other scenes in between, and all the emotions involved, but it's a very clear pattern, isn't it? Crowley - Heaven - Crowley - Heaven - Crowley - Heaven. Nothing could illustrate better how Aziraphale was swinging between the two."

Aziraphale is trying to figure out what to do. He's currently in a swing away from Heaven - which put him off the idea of telling them during their meeting - and towards Crowley. He's searching for reasons and arguments why he might choose siding with Crowley. And it's all very high stakes and emotionally intense.

And under all this immense pressure Aziraphale brings up, in a rather small and pleading voice, something that seems uncharacteristic at the time.

"You used to be an angel once".

You used to be like me. You still are.

This was a perfect opening for Crowley. He should have picked that thread and pulled and he would very likely get where he wanted. Starting from there would make it so much easier to back all his arguments and prove all his points. But he didn't.

Crowley straight-up refused to discuss it.

He pretty much shut the door Aziraphale opened for him and then not even a minute later proceeded to try and break through the wall...

Why?

That is a much simpler question. Just like Aziraphale, Crowley was heavily distressed. He didn't know about the Antichrist. He believed he was running out of options and out of time. The world was about to end and he was powerless to do anything about it. He didn't have the mental capacity to reexamine and discuss this very sensitive and problematic topic right then.

We are not done with the scene yet, but for now, let's leave it. In the next post, we'll look at ones when Crowley is a bit more open about the subject - the Job minisode.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Obey me - Christmas dates

**did anyone else feel a little cheated we didn’t get real individual date options for the boys in the new event? no. just me? ok.**

Lucifer

“Come along [Y/N]. We don’t want to miss the other exhibits.”

“Coming!” You call after Lucifer before you jog up next to him.

The eldest brother had claimed victory once again, and won the bet to spend the day with you. You couldn’t say you were really surprised, or disappointed, when Lucifer won. But he took his victory graciously, even if his brothers were still sore about it.

“Lord Diavolo sure works fast, doesn’t he? Putting together this White Christmas outdoor light display in the park.” You comment. “He only knew about the ‘White Christmas’ idea a few days ago.”

“Indeed.” Lucifer agreed. Though I suspect a big portion of the work was accomplished by Barbatos.” You both chuckle at that.

The light display in questions was a winding maze of lights, decorations, and displays in one of Devildoms most popular botanical gardens. The beautiful white lights and sparkling icicles was a stark contrast from the dark and dangerously elegant greenery. It was truly magnificent.

“Still, it really all is amazing. Thank you for bringing me here. It’s something I’ll never forget.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Lucifer replied with a soft smile, before he took your hand in his. The warmth seeping from your gloves into your skin. “And I’m glad I got to share it with you. Any moment being with you is something I’ll never forget.” He leaned in to give you a kiss. Brisky, as you were in public. “Your cheeks feel a little cold. Let’s complete the tour and then head home. I’ll have some warm mulled demonus waiting for us when we get there.”

“Hooray!”

Mammon

You’re practically panting to keep up with Mammon as he all but sprinted off to the next venue.

For once, he’d won one of the bets he’d pressured the others into and seemed to be making the most of it with the time he had remaining.

Since the morning the two of you had been go, go, go. From getting iced hot chocolates at a trendy new coffee spot in downtown. To window shopping (and actual shopping) in the fashion district. To now, after a quick wardrobe change into your newest & latest holiday fashion fare, running off to a Christmas pop-up club in the city.

“Mammon, slow down!” You finally cry out. “There’s no need to rush. The place will be there when we get there.”

“No it won’t!” Mammon insisted. Turning around and coming back to you a few paces behind. “It’s a limited time deal that ends at midnight. After that, the pop-up literally disappears and won’t be back ‘til next year.”

“And there’s no chance we can table this until then?” You sarcastically ask.

“No!” The demon barked. “Because it’s different every year, and I only got ya for today!”

“You have me every day Mammon.”

“It’s not the same.” Mammon replied with a sigh. Relaxing out of his panic for a moment and rubbing the back of his head. “I know yer around every day, but it’s not the same. We have classes, and the others are around. It’s never just the two of us. We spend a lot of time together but it’s not….”

“Quality time?”

“Don’t get all sappy on me.”

You giggle at Mammon’s grumbled, then step forward to lean up and give him a peck on the lips. “If you really feel that way, then why don’t you just say something? We can spend quality time together if you ask. You don’t have to come up with these hair brained gambling schemes to try and win me over.” Plus, that he was terrible at. “And you don’t have to try and cram everything all in one day. I’ll be here.”

The demon scratched at his white hair again and scrunched his lips. “Ok…” He agreed. “Can we still go to the party? I really do want to see it and…I kinda wanna see it….with you.”

You grin and give Mammon another peck before you fall in line beside him. “Just so long as we don’t have to run there.”

Levi

The snow was still falling outside at a leisurely pace as you walked down the hall at a similar pace toward Levi’s room. Surprising everyone with his masterful snow work, he’d won the bet to spend the day with you on a date. You were curious to see what he had come up with.

“Levi?” You ask as you knock on the door with your secret knock and let yourself in. Only you were allowed to enter Levi’s room alone with your secret knock.

“[Y/N]!” Levi exclaimed when he saw you, and bolted up from his spot on the floor.

“Hey Levi!” You giggle at his excitement, finding it infectious. “Wow. You must be really excited for your date.”

“I am!” He must be really excited because he didn’t stammer or fluster at all at the word ‘date’. “I can’t wait to show you what I have planned.”

“I can’t wait either. Where are we going?”

“Oh. Nowhere.” You cock your head to the side at his response. Then Levi darted off towards his desk before he came back with a set of goggles. “Put these on!”

“Your VR goggles?” You ask cryptically as Levi when to tap on his keyboard. “You mean we’re not going out?”

“Nope.” He confirmed with an oblivious smile at your response. “There’s a new real world winter wonderland map that just dropped in Fallen Qin. That new MMO game I’ve been playing. I wanted to check it out with you, so I’ve been waiting for like 3 days to key in.”

“So like the car game we did a while ago?” You remember a similar experience, just with a beach. “You do realize there’s a real winter wonderland outside, right?”

“Don’t the outside have new ice resistant Christmas theme armor, and a quest to steal Krampus-mon’s scowling whip?” Levi asked. And after a long pause he added, “didn’t think so,” before turning on his headset.

You sigh and turn on your headset as well. It was his date. And as long as you didn’t get stuck in the game (like so many times before) grinding with Levi was usually fun.

Since it was a seasonal quest map, it only took you a few hours to finish together. Your characters forged across the frozen plains. Battled new winter monsters. And even stopped into a tavern for hot coco before defeating Krampus-mon and getting the scowling whip into your collection.

“That was so much fun!” Levi cheered as you took off your headsets.

“Yeah, it was fun.” You agree. “I wasn’t really sure I’d like a VR date but….it was nice. Different.”

“I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you were expecting.” Levi said. Confidence fading now that he was back in the real world, and picking the straps on his VR set. “I’m not that good at the real world. So I figured if I planned a normie date I’d do a bad job at it. But a VR date, that I can do. I read all the chats to try and find the best spots before we played. To make sure we got to all the fun stuff fast.”

“You read the spoilers for me?” Levi nodded. An unprecedented act of otaku skullduggery on his behalf.

Quickly, you scoot over and give Levi a kiss before he could react. “Thank you Levi. I’m sure that was hard for you. And for waiting to play. I appreciate you doing all this for me and working so hard to make sure I had a good time.”

“Y-Y-Y…You’re welcome!” The demon stammered back. Beet red at your simple kiss.

“Do you want to play again? I’m sure the forums didn’t find everything in the game. How could they if you haven’t played yet.”

Levi grinned at your compliment and snapped his headset back out. You smirk and turn your headset back on as well to play some more.

Satan

“I’m actually surprised.” You mention to Satan as you stood in line, up at the ticket counter, waiting to get entry into the film festival. “I thought this would be more Levi’s thing.”

“There’s no animated films here.”

Satan had won the snow building contest, and the bet to win a date with you for the holiday. His pur-fectly sculpted cat display was so meticulously crafted that it looked like real cats frolicking in the snow. “Still, movies are really more his thing. I know you’re more into books.”

“Don’t pigeonhole me into one genre of entertainment.” Satan replied with a frown.

Now waiting in line for popcorn he continued. “Books will always be superior, in my opinion, but film has it’s place too. Besides, the cinematic techniques used the La Petite Noel for the sidewalk scenes it truly a masterpiece.” You chuckle a little at his enthusiasm.

As one could guess, the film festival was dedicated to all things Christmas in the art nouveau film arena. Typically international films, Satan seemed positively giddy to sit in a theatre for several hours watching grainy shots on a makeshift screen in this run down ‘classic’ of a theatre.

“I just hope they have subtitles.” You comment as you pop a few kernels into your mouth.

“They should.” Satan replied as you moved behind the double doors to find seats. “And if not, I’ll translate for you.”

“You’re going to translate every movie for me?” You ask as you take a seat in your chosen spot.

“Of course, it shouldn’t be that difficult.” He sat down beside you. The seats in desperate need of some oil or grease. “I speak several languages. So translating a simple film shouldn’t be too challenging.”

“Smarty pants.” You quip, before getting a mischievous grin on your face and darting over to give him a quick kiss. “I just hope there are subtitles. I can’t think of some other things I’d like to do with your mouth in this dark theater while the movie plays.”

“[Y/N]--!” Satan’s remark was cut off by some other patrons shushing him violently as the lights dropped and the movie began to play. “You don’t play fair.” He whispered.

“What would be the fun in that?”

Asmo

The decorations in the fashion district were always the nicest.

Maybe it was the reputation for being the most…well…fashionable, but it seemed that every shop really put in effort and their best foot forward to make their displays stand out.

“Ooooo! Look at this one [Y/N]~ !” Asmo cooed as you walked hand-in-hand down the busiest street.

Asmo had won the snow sculpture contest. Who knew you could make a real dress out of snow? But, if anyone would be able to do it it would certainly be Asmo. Winning the date with you he choose to spend the afternoon going window shopping to find the best display in all the shopping quarter.

“It’s nice. But I still think the clock tower one is better.” You comment. Thinking back on the huge wooden clock tower, with little elves dancing, working, and moving about as they counted down Christmas. “I’m more of a traditionalist myself. These trendy displays are lost on me.”

“Hmmm…I can see that.” The demon agreed as he sipped his skinny salted caramel mocha. “Not that it would be lost on you! Never! I mean, that there is something to be said for being more traditional. Especially this time of year.”

You giggle a little. “I never thought you would be one for convention Asmo.”

He giggled back. “Not always. But there is something to be said about it from time to time.”

You continue your walk and come up to a jewelry store that made both your jaws drop. “Wow…not that’s impressive.”

Inside the window as a winter wonderland of dazzling jewels. Diamond snowflakes. Ruby boys. An emerald tree that had to be as tall as Luke in the corner. Even an onyx terrier playing on the carpet with a sapphire blue ball.

“Somebody must have big connects with the orc mines to pull this off.”

“There are orcs here?” You ask curiously, and Asmo just giggled at you.

“Oh [Y/N], you’re so cute. Of course there are orcs here silly. You’ve met yetis, and mermaids, and all kinds of demons, but you’re still surprised by things.” You supposed that was true.

“Hey! I know.” Asmo exclaimed. Quickly changing the subject. “Let’s go in and look around. We could get you a ring and tell the others that we got married. They’ll be so floored and jealous!”

“I…don’t think that’s the best idea.” You tell him.

“Awww….no fun….” He pouted in his typical Asmo way, but you could sense that he was genuinely a little disappointed in you rejecting his idea.

“But if you want to go inside, we can. A ring seems a little much, but we could maybe get matching bracelets to wear.”

That seemed to pick Asmo right up, and he leaned in to give you a quick kiss before pulling you into the store.

Beel

“Are you doing ok? Do you want me to hold your pack for you? I could carry you if you want?”

“No Beel, I’m ok.” You insist as the two of you continued your hike.

Though the snow was still coming down around the Devildom, the snow sculpture contest was over. Beel had won with his massive snowball. Collecting the snow in the garden by pushing a small ball around until had gathered nearly all the snow available. A feat of strength the judging parties had to take recognition of.

After breakfast Beel told you that you’d be leaving for your date, and that you’d be going on a hike into the mountains. You were actually excited to get back into the outdoors for a bit. Your brief trip up the mountain to where the yetis were had rekindled your wilderness spirit. So after packing up you both hit the trail on an adventure.

“Where are we going anyway?” You ask as you follow beside Beel on the journey. “I know you said there was something you wanted to show me at the end, but that’s not really an answer.”

“It’s an answer.” Beel insisted. “It’s something I found on one of my runs. I started taking this trail a few months ago, since I was getting bored around school. It’s just up ahead.”

You don’t ask anymore questions. Since the destination was so close. The two of you walk silently for a few more paces before the trees break into clearing with a small frozen pond in the center. “Wow!”

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool.” Beel agreed with a smile as he looked at the beautiful scene with you.

“Thanks for taking me up here Beel. This is really magical.”

“We didn’t come all the way up here just to look at it.” He pulled his bag to the front and pulled out two pairs of ice skates.

“We’re going ice skating! Wait. Is it safe?”

“It should be.” He said. Gesturing you over to a rock near the pond’s edge and helping you lace up your skates. “I jumped on it a few times and it didn’t break. If it can hold me, I’m sure it can hold the two of us.”

“What if you had fallen in?”

“I would have swam out.” His confident tone indicated that he really thought he was strong enough to fight the ice and swim out, so you just chuckle and finish with your skates.

You both make it onto the ice with limited issue. Beel went out first and told you, “take my hand.” When you did, he pulled you onto the ice and close to his chest. “If you want to hold on to me to stay balanced, I don’t mind.”

You smile up at Beel, then lean up (as carefully as possible) to give him a kiss for being so sweet in bringing you here and planning all this. “I’ll try not pull you down if I fall.”

“Don’t worry,” he said as you both start to skate, “I’ll catch you before you fall.”

Belphie

No one was more surprised than Belphie himself that he won the snow sculpture contest, but he did. You told him after that you weren’t surprised, given that he was so artistic, to which he replied, “well I can usually get things done if I apply myself.” Then immediately went to take a nap from all the hard work.

He texted you the next day to come to his attic room for your date, and you immediately obeyed. Climbing the stairs, you found the room redecorated in Christmas themed blankets and shawls over the astrology ones usually there. “Oh wow, it looks like Santa’s workshop in here.”

“Santa isn’t real.” Belphie stated. Ironic, since he was wearing a Santa hat. “Come here. I want you to sit next to me.”

You come over and snuggle in next to Belphie. “So this is what we’re doing today?”

“No. I mean, not all of it. Look.” He pressed a button and the shutters to all the windows opened. To the point that it looked like the two of you were floating above the mansion and grounds below. “We can watch the snow fall up here and it’s almost like where in a cloud. Much better than being down there in the actual snow. I’m still cold from yesterday.” Belphie shuttered at the thought.

You chuckle at him, and lean over to give him a kiss. “I agree. This is much better.”

The demon smiled and cuddled in to rest his head on your shoulder. The two of you watching the snowflakes dance and cover the world in white from your ivory tower above.

part ii

[tmntxthings]

∑一Entry 1・゜・。

summary: it’s like a diary, that tells the story from one perspective, only their inner thoughts, of their story with donnie, & spoiler alert I don’t think there will be a happy ending

warnings: first meetings, strangers to friends to lovers, cloaking brooch, eventually angst, obsession, jealousy, yandere behavior, unedited

—————————————————————————

I met someone today.

They were interesting.

And what was even more interesting was that I thought to myself, ‘I’d like to see them again.’

We talked for a bit, about mundane things. Stuff that I don’t find interesting at all. The weather. New York is a cold place. Usually. But today the weather had been…

What had he called it..?

‘Superb’

It was clear skies, sunny, with a bit of wind so it wasn’t too hot. Supposedly this was his perfect day. I wouldn’t use that word, it was alright. But I found him, very cute. For phrasing it that way.

What made us have a conversation to begin with?

He had saved me. From myself! My shoelaces always come undone as you know. And he was walking past me, when accidentally he stepped on the laces, and down I went, mid-step, jerking slightly from my pace being cut off.

He was pretty quick. My eyes were wide open as I watched the ground get closer and closer. I had accepted my fate. Then his arm had shot out, slinging under my waist and pulling me backward on my feet.

After the apologies and thank yous, and him pointing out the cause of my problems. He knelt down on one knee, and tied my shoelaces.

It was something that only happened to the romance leads in movies. I never thought anything so cliche would happen to me. But I was thankful as I got to watch him work. Deft fingers, long eyelashes. He smelled good, he wore purple.

More thank yous. And then I did something I normally never do. I asked for his name. Donatello. Unusual! I’ve never met one of those before. A classic name. Outdated for sure. But rememberable nonetheless.

Instead of parting ways, I decided to keep going outside of my little box. Since he was so interesting. He had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. I commented on it, and he stuttered a little.

‘T-thank you..’

That wasn’t all either. He wore a ring that he liked to twist and twist and twist. It was mesmerizing when I finally noticed it. His little habit. I noticed a bunch of things as we walked the trails in Central Park.

He told me that he had needed the fresh air, to get out and away from his family for a bit. I had a similar reason though I didn’t say it. The noise, it had been so deafening in my tiny apartment. I had to get away from it. It followed me outside, to the park.

It only seemed to stop when I met him. Donatello. Maybe that’s why I found him so interesting. I didn’t notice it at the time.. but yes, I think that is why. He made all the noise go away! It was nice and quiet for once, with the sound of his voice filling up the rest of the space.

He had a nice voice too.

We walked, and talked, he talked more than me. But that’s normal. I don’t like talking. He does though, and he had a lot to say. It seemed he needed someone to listen. So I lended both my ears willingly.

By the time the sun started to set we had walked the trail three times. I hadn’t wanted that to be it. A chance encounter. A kind person who would become a distant memory. No. Maybe not. I don’t think I would’ve ever forgotten about him.

Luckily it seemed I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. He had said,

‘Thanks for listening to all of that… I’m not usually an over-sharer!’ He chuckled before continuing,

‘Would you want to exchange numbers? I think it’s pretty rare to find someone you can talk easily with, I’d much rather you than Dr. Feelings’

He had to explain that last part. But my phone was out and ready all the same. This moment felt really important. I felt like I had to write it down. So here we are. Now I will never ever forget.

I haven’t texted and neither has he. I probably won’t reach out first. But maybe I will. I have yet to decide. Though I hope to see him again soon.

—————————————————————————

∑一Entry 2・゜・。

If I had known it would take two weeks until he would reach out, I wouldn’t have made that promise to myself to not reach out first.

It was just below torture. Watching. Waiting. I thought maybe I would see even the three little dots pop up a few times. That maybe he had been thinking of me too.

I don’t think he had.

But that’s okay.

He reached out on his own violation eventually. Which felt nice. He had texted,

‘Greetings’

Very formal!

‘Would you like to walk in Central Park again?’

He provided the exact location and time to meet. I got there early. He seemed to have the same idea! All in purple once more. And he wore the same ring too.

We walked, and we talked. It felt just as nice as before. He was so talkative. He was funny. He was kind. I got too distracted a couple of times, staring intently at him instead of my surroundings. Twice I had almost walked into another person, and once I had tripped. All by accident.

He was just as swift as before. Easily reaching out to pull me close or pull me up. Not letting me fall. Not allowing me to run into someone’s back.

‘You should be more careful.’ He told me.

I nodded. My cheeks were warm after that. It felt quite embarrassing to have been told that. He had no idea how careful I was. I hardly ever leave the apartment after all! In fact I don’t think I had left since the last time I had seen him.

It was much safer inside. But I had a reason to get out now. He was worth it. He didn’t talk as much as the first meeting. So I asked some questions. He was 18! Just like me.

His favorite color was indeed purple.

His hobbies were botany and fixing everyone else’s problems.

He liked video games, and making ‘tech.’

That really had gotten some long winded speeches out of him. He was very smart it seemed. Much smarter than me.

I could hardly keep up with the big words he used. It all sounded very technical and advanced. But he was so animated when he got worked up into a talk frenzy. It was cute.

All I could hear was his voice, so soothing, so happy. It was musical. I could have it on repeat. Every day.

‘We should do this more often! Would you like to schedule regular meetings?’

It was asked very suddenly. But I agreed instantly. Now in my calendar, every Wednesday, from 5pm to 6pm, we would have our walks. And we would talk. Though this one had lasted much longer than 6. But he said it wouldn’t always be that way.

He was very busy. And yet, he stayed til 8pm. He had paused before leaving. I wondered what he had thought of. I didn’t have the courage to ask. Maybe I will next time. Next Wednesday.

—————————————————————————

∑一Entry 3・゜・。

Now that I had a specific day to look forward to, every day before that was boring. Each day that drew closer was filled with imaginary conversations.

What shade of purple would he wear this time?

How many times would he twist that ring?

My guess was 24 times. Maybe less since supposedly our time limit was an hour.

But before that magical day could come. I was forced to socialize with the landlord. Late payments. Threats. No money, no apartment. It was all so annoying.

I didn’t have any money left. The rent and other necessities took it. Which meant I would have to get a job, again. Unemployment checks should last forever.

So I had to socialize even more. I talked to one place for a job. They were always hiring. Luckily they didn’t ask for a resume or anything really. I told them I could work any day but Wednesday.

Those were for Donatello. Even though it was just one hour. I would need time to prepare.

With the job lined up, the little social battery that I had was completely drained. And I had two days to recover before Wednesday rolled around.

I couldn’t sleep. For those two days. The noise. It’s so loud. It wouldn’t let me sleep.

Makeup hid the dark circles that had encompassed my eyes. But no amount of makeup could hide the fact that I was tripping over my own two feet way more often than usually.

My eyes were wide open. I watched Donatello check my shoelaces multiple times. After the sixth time he suggested that we should just sit.

‘Is everything okay?’ He had asked me a personal question. This felt really important. And I struggled with how to answer. The truth?

‘I-‘

Coward. I was too much of a coward. Only one word of the truth came out before I changed my cowardice mind. I told him everything was fine. That I was just a little tired. That work had been hard. Which led to more questions.

‘Where do you work?’

‘Oh! What do you do?’

‘I see, well I hope they aren’t overworking you! If you ever..’

He had went off on another tangent about legal work hours. And other stuff that flew over my head. I think I would’ve been able to understand if I hadn’t been so exhausted.

And sitting on that bench, with Donatello’s voice going on forever and ever, it was calming. My wide eyes drooped. The initial excitement of my new favorite day had been overshadowed by my body being awake for three days.

I don’t know when I fell asleep. It was somewhere around the conversation about robots and the very real possibility of sentient life. Donatello had been very adamant when my expression had turned doubtful. But I think that was just my confused face. Even my facial expressions weren’t working right.

When I woke up, my head was resting just below his shoulder. Against his arm. He was very still. His other arm, that had his other hand, held his phone and he was scrolling through some app. Purple. Messages. My eyes were so blurry it took a couple of blinks to finally see that he was messaging someone.

Someone named April.

I must’ve moved or jerked or did something because the phone went black and he murmured my name.

‘You okay?’ He asked it again. It felt like a second chance. And so I told him the truth. That I hadn’t slept for a while. I didn’t say how long. But he nodded as I found the strength somehow, to move away from his arm. He was cool to the touch.

‘I understand, I don’t have the best sleep schedule either so I’m in no position to judge,’

This was said in a joking manner. He smiled kindly as he looked down. I surely looked like a bleary-eyed mess. But he was so kind, so nice. I smiled too. And it was 7:30!

‘Do you mind if I walk you home? I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep on your feet! Or worse you trip into someone else’s arms,’

He had laughed quite loudly after that. I could only feel my ears getting really hot. After a moment I realized he had gotten really quiet. I picked up the slack. It returned to normal after a few questions,

‘What’s your favorite plant?’

‘What do you do for work?’

‘Did I say anything in my sleep?’

I was really curious about the last one. I wasn’t worried. Just curious. Turns out I hadn’t said a thing. And that Donatello was a problem-solver in all aspects of life. But mainly he helped people with computer problems, and he fought bad guys ‘Haha just kidding, unless you consider hackers bad guys’

They were in my book! He had turned his ring three times in a row after that answer. As for the plant one, he had many purple flowers he listed off.

‘What?? You don’t know what lilacs look like?’

I had shook my head. Nothing really came to mind except the color lilac. That was another shade of purple..right?

‘I’ll have to bring some for you next Wednesday!’

He had declared this and even though I tried to say he didn’t have to! That I could easily look them up. I was happy when he told me not to, that he would show me.

This would be my first physical gift from Donatello. I am looking forward to next Wednesday even more than usual now. And I promised him and myself that I wouldn’t look up lilacs, it would be a surprise.

[icedragonlizard]

Some of my headcanons for Kracko

Oh wow... I'm actually gonna talk about a less prominent character in the Kirby series this time! And here we got none other than Kirby's biggest hater, Kracko. The cycloptic cloud of sheer hatred himself.

Allow me to disclose some of my headcanons for this guy:

The entire reason why Kracko hates Kirby in the first place is because he was embarrassed to lose to him the very first time they fought all the way back in Kirby's Dream Land, and this hatred has only amplified as he constantly sought revenge and kept losing every single time they fought. He despises the fact that he got bested by a child, and it just gets worse when he continues to be bested. It makes him embarrassed, insecure, jealous, furious and distraught.

In this universe, a ton of adults have faced embarrassment one way or another by getting all their butts kicked by a mere toddler. But out of all these adults that got rekt by said kid, Kracko is by far the saltiest and most embarrassed by it. He's so ridiculously insecure over it that he can't help but hate Kirby's guts to the extreme. He refuses to ever reconcile with Kirby because of it. Others usually reconcile with Kirby, but not Kracko. He'll forever always despise Kirby.

He will never stop being super mad at Kirby.

Man, Kracko is quite the sore loser, isn't he? Biggest sore loser ever?

That being said, despite hating Kirby so much, he's not all bad. He's not pure evil or anything, although his hatred for Kirby has definitely made him become a worse person over time. He's kind of a bad person overall, but there also actually exists a softer side in this cloud.

While Kracko is a big hater, he's also... a caring father?!?!? He's the progenitor to a legion of cycloptic cloud creatures similar to him, and he loves them all. He helps them expand in numbers. He also protects them from threats, which is another reason why he's increasingly despised Kirby over time as that pink toddler has 'picked fights' with his subjects as he'd put it. So yeah... Kracko doesn't just have a lot of hate in his heart, he's actually got some real love in his heart too! He cares about his legion of cycloptic clouds a whole lot!

Kracko is capable of going through any dimension. He can be considered an inter-dimensional traveler, similar to Magolor. He's occasionally a nomad that likes traveling wherever he's capable of passing through, but his favorite place in the universe is Planet Popstar's high altitude country of Cloudy Park. He absolutely adores Cloudy Park! He couldn't ask for a better atmosphere anywhere else.

Which is why he considers Cloudy Park to be his home overall. And he happens to be both famous and infamous to the people of Cloudy Park. Partly famous because he's shockingly nice to the people there, but partly infamous because even the people there are fully aware that he hates Kirby... and, well, Kirby is of course beloved at large throughout Popstar, and thus there's a whole lot of people in Cloudy Park who resent Kracko for his hatred of Kirby, and think he's a jerk.

Adeleine is one of the people that lives in Cloudy Park. The relationship between Kracko and Adeleine is very complicated, to say the least. On one hand, she admittedly thinks that Kracko is very cool, which is why she even has a painted version of him that she'll sometimes make sentient in the first place. But because Adeleine is also friends with Kirby, this has caused problems between her and Kracko. The cycloptic cloud wants to constantly hunt down Kirby as nonstop revenge, and the young artist girl simply won't have any of that. She keeps telling Kracko to please leave Kirby alone.

Fortunately, believe it or not, he's ended up listening at times! He actually has enough care for Adeleine that he agrees to not constantly hunt down Kirby, but he can't promise that there won't be a fight if Kirby comes near him. Needless to say, Adeleine isn't satisfied with that answer... she and others wish that he'd stop messing with Kirby altogether. But he's simply far too unwell about wanting revenge on Kirby one way or another. That being said, Adeleine and the others of Cloudy Park have actually had some success at keeping Kracko in check from wanting to go after Kirby. He never shows any signs of truly wanting to stop, though, and thus it's clear he still needs to continue being slapped on the non-existent wrist.

Aside from Adeleine, however, Kracko wouldn't really get along with any other dream friend. The reason he and Adeleine are even remotely capable of getting along to begin with is because they both share the love of living in Cloudy Park, and that he was honored that she was willing to portray him in her paintings. Even then, there's still definite complications there, and Kracko would just be in mutual resentment with the rest of the dream friends, considering they're all more or less friends with Kirby at this point. Kracko is overall quite bad at getting along with people that support Kirby. Geez, this cloud!

Way back in older days, Kracko used to be friends with King Dedede, back when Dedede used to be a worse person than he is now. But this has long changed ever since Dedede decided to become a better person and became friends with Kirby. One could imagine Kracko being rather jealous of Dedede for being able to get over his embarrassment of being bested by a child and becoming friends, because the cycloptic cloud has still never been able to. Most likely, nowadays, he'd berate Dedede for 'betraying' him. Wow, Kracko's nuts!

There's a dream friend that Kracko has a particular amount of hatred for, and one could say that it may be his second most hated person after Kirby. It's Marx. This is because when Marx first learned about Kracko's hatred for Kirby, he thought it was hilarious. Marx decided to pull pranks on Kracko and taunt him over hating Kirby. Wouldn't be hard to predict that Kracko has come to hugely despise Marx and has went as far as to electrocute him in pure rage. What also makes this funnier is that like Kracko, Marx was also once very bitter and salty about getting rekt by Kirby. So technically, Marx COULD empathize with Kracko. He has the capability of doing so, but chooses not to and just pranks him instead. LOL.

Truthfully, there's a small part of Kracko that kind of just wants to access an ancient artifact to corrupt himself and make him stronger, hopefully strong enough to finally be able to beat Kirby. He hates the pink puffball that much. But he's also aware that he wouldn't really do himself much favors, and if anything, it'd just cause his demise if anything. He wishes that weren't the case, though. He really wishes he could finally best Kirby one day, but deep down is aware that he won't, as desperate as he is about wanting to. Unless I eventually write a Kirby AU on AO3 about Kracko combining with Dark Matter, and then becomes everyone's problem because his hatred for Kirby boiled over. Hahaha! Remember that as one of the poll options for my next fic? Marx and Magolor friendship fic won that poll, but I could still do that Kracko/DarkMatter AU fic in the far future!

Kirby knows that Kracko despises him. The feeling isn't mutual, though, as Kirby doesn't hate Kracko. Kirby just doesn't hate in general. If anything, he just sees Kracko as extremely stubborn, more stubborn than others for still not reconciling with him. He figures that one day, Kracko will maybe finally get over it become friends.

That won't happen though, LOL.

I think that's about all I got here for Kracko. I had some HCs for him! You're welcome if you enjoyed this. See you later for the next one.

[maleyanderecafe]

ok so I'm on your blog a lot, and I wandered across this one manwha the other day and I think??? its got some male yandere stuff it?? like his older brother is platonically one as far as I can tell, and this other guy I'm 90% is literally stalking-him obsessed even though he bullies him at school. Honestly, it's been a pretty good read so far in my opinion, it's called "Comes in Threes"

Phew, Comes in Threes is one of those BL webcomics that starts out very comedic and then punches you in the gut with drama and then everything falling apart while still maintaining the comedic tone. I was pretty caught off guard by the sudden angst that happened actually. There are two yanderes, one that is mentioned is the main character's brother and the other is one of the male leads of the story, though it's not fully known the reason for why he fell so hard for him or why he did all these horrible things to him.

The story starts off with Joon jacking off to his crush Jong-oh, before going to a meeting he's missed. There he also sees another mischievous friend of his, Seong ah-in. The story then goes into a more comedic tone, with the three of the in a group when they go on a trip, with Joon continuously pining over Jong-oh while Seong ah-in keeps butting in. During this time, Joon gets molested during the camp, though he can't seem to find out who did it. Their relationship progresses with Jong-oh inviting Joon to go gym together, though is once distraught to see Seong ah-in there as well. Eventually they study together, and Jung-oh accidentally catches Joon jacking off when trying to return and get his phone, which makes things very awkward between them. At some point, Jong-oh gets drunk and kisses Joon, and confesses his feelings to Seong ah-in, much to his dismay.

We get a backstory about why Joon dislikes Seong ah-in so much, seeing that the two were best friends during high school. He hangs around with Joon a lot, but he also seems to have a different side to him, as we see in the current day as well. We see that Jun's dad runs a restaurant that sells pig feet that Joon and his older brother help out in. He ends up bringing food to Seong ah-in's house for a delivery, noticing the marble floor that he has. Soon after though, his life goes down the drain as one scathing review about their service and finding a bug in their food causes the restaurant to get shut down, forcing Jun's father to go take a job in construction to keep his family afloat. Not soon after, Joon's father ends up in a fatal accident, forcing Joon's older brother Chan to take care of Joon. After looking at the photo of the review that indirectly caused his father's death, Joon notices that it's the same marble flooring that he say at Seong ah-in's place, directly linking it to him. He's outraged and confronts Seong ah-in about the truth, but he does not respond clearly, leading him to hitting Seong ah-in, forcing both of them to go to the principal's office. Soon after, Chang joins the army after dropping out of school to take care of Joon.

Back in the present, Seong ah-in drags Joon to an amusement park date and confesses his feeling to Joon atop the ferris wheel to which Joon rejects harshly. He ends up getting a call and runs into Jong-oh, who drives him to the hospital to see his brother, who has been injured. After this, it seems that Chang ends up quitting the military and staying with Joon to take care of him. After Chang reassures his brother that he will be okay, Joon goes to his part time job, which leads to Jong-oh confessing to him and the two of them dating. Joon ends up picking up Chang from the hospital, and we see just how overprotective and possessive Chang is with his brother, wanting to see his new boyfriend, even sleeping together in the same bed (no, not having sex, thankfully). Joon and Jong-oh get more and more close together, being all lovey dovey like a couple, at least until one of his friends asks about a similar situation where she isn't sure about where her relationship stands, with Joon realizing that his situation with Jong-oh is similar.

At some point, Seong ah-in ends up inviting Joon over to talk about what really happened with the photo, clarifying that it actually was another one of their friends who did it, even explaining that he dished out revenge for him as well. Joon is still not really happy with Seong ah in given that he still is a dick and bully him, even telling him that Jong-oh actually is in love with Seong ah-in and even raping him.

Chang gets worried that his brother doesn't return for the night and ends up calling Jong-oh, who also has no idea where he is. After meeting up with Jong-oh the next day and reassuring him (and Chang), but things suddenly turn sour when Jong-oh admits to Joon that he does have a crush on Seong ah-in, and that Seong ah-in forced him to do a lot of things like molest him in his sleep, put trash in his locker amongst other things, which he only did because he liked Jong-oh. This pisses Joon off, and leaves Jong-oh to hang out with Seong ah-in, who attempts to kiss Jong-oh, even though Seong ah-in refuses. We get to see a backstory about the two's relationship, with the two of them being childhood friends. Seong ah-in comes from a rich abusive family, and with Seong ah-in being as haughty as he was before. In one instance, he tries to get Jong-oh to steal something from his step father as revenge for him beating Seong ah-in, but Jong-oh refuses, leading to Seong ah-in getting beat. Jong-oh tries to apologize, though Seong ah-in initially refuses.

Meanwhile, Joon hangs out with his brother, still pissed at Jong-oh and we see Chang become extremely overprotective of him, trying to get him to not leave the house, to refuses to spend time with his friends and trying to break it off with Jong-oh. We get a backstory on Chang's point of view from when he first saw Joon as a baby. Initially he didn't like the idea of having another sibling, but we see him slowly warm up to him. Tragedy strikes as Joon and Chang's mother dies, causing Chang to lash out at Joon, telling him that he no longer wants to be brothers with him. After his father comes home, Chang realizes his mistake as Joon has run from home and spends a long time looking for him. Eventually he is able to find him again, which leads to him promising to always look after him. The story currently is at the point where Jong-oh has admitted that while he did like Seong ah-in, he wants to be with Joon.

I was really caught off guard by the sudden change in tone, but at the same time, there were always little hints that this was always the case, especially when it comes with Seong ah-in, who is constantly acting shady. I do like that it's able to balance between both comedy and the more dramatic/angsty parts of the story though, since that can be pretty hard to pull off. I actually quite like the backstory for Joon and Chang though, especially since a lot of it just seems like pretty unfortunate circumstances that kept piling on top of each other and that their father actually does seem like a really good dad really makes it more difficult for them when he did suddenly die. It also explains pretty well why Chang is so overprotective over Joon, even if he is going about it the wrong way.

Chang as a yandere is pretty understandable due to his backstory. He's had a pretty tragic life due to the various circumstances of losing both of his parents, and had to raise his younger brother, and we see that he clings pretty heavily onto the past when they were younger, even calling it "the best days of his life." The timing of his injury seems a little odd to me, considering after this, he simply accepts his fate of being rejected by the military without any hesitation, almost seemingly as it was planned. It makes me wonder why he chose now to come back because while I know part of it was because he was trying to provide for Joon, his severe overprotective nature makes it hard for me to believe he would willingly stay away from him for so long. Chang is kind of on the borderline of some incest stuff, even besides just sleeping with each other in the same bed, he does also touch (?) Joon's lips in a suggestive matter. I really hope that this story doesn't make Chang go the incest route though because it honestly does have a better setup as a platonic yandere. Besides being generally overprotective, he's really possessive over him, trying to get him to not spend time with his other friends, guilt tripping him by having meals together and trying to "recreate when they were younger" and in the recent chapters, very lightly trying to confine Joon to the house. Part of it does benefit Joon as... well the two other people, Seong ah-in and Jong-oh can be pretty shady, but he obviously shouldn't really be going about it this way. Still, I do like how the backstory is able to make a reasonable and understandable reason for why Chang acts this way.

Seong ah-in on the other hand is a bit more confusing as a yandere, mostly at least in the bullying aspect. To me, at least, it is a bit strange when yanderes end up bullying the person they like, unless it's either for a manipulation tactic or if it's sort of a way to release some anger about their love for them (like a reluctant yandere), but Seong ah-in seems pretty clear that he does have feelings for Joon, and says so as much in two of the scenes. Currently, it's not really clear why he made Jong-oh molest and stuff trash in Joon's locker, and also why he did try to kiss him afterwards so that Jong-oh could get his reward of getting his crush. It's probably some sort of manipulation tactic, seeing that Seong ah-in is pretty sly, even when he was younger. He does follow Joon a lot though, butting into pretty much everything when it comes with Joon and Jong-oh and even suggesting a threesome (?) between them, which I feel like is not something yanderes tend to agree to (given then loyalty to one person kind of deal). He does also give various types of gifts to Joon (going on the amusement park rides with him and in high school buying him a ton of food) and clearly teases him more than anyone else. Even taking the blame for making Joon's resteraunt close and seeking revenge for the real culprit. As a yandere, his actions are rather confusing, so I'm not really a 100% he is one, at least as of writing this ask.

Overall though, I think it's a pretty good BL series. There are some things that seem to jump out of nowhere and some general BL shinnanigans, but I think the humor and story make it very worthwhile to read.

[eyra]

20 questions for Fic Writers

thank you to everyone who tagged me and I'm sorry it's taken me a month to do this.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

25 plus a few that I've posted anonymously. bonus points if anyone ever finds them.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

348,031

3. What fandoms do you write for?

just HP/marauders these days

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Brief History of Dragons - people like this Remus I think.

Beneath a Big Blue Sky - my love letter to Yorkshire.

Statten Park - an old one but I do actually still like this, it's a lot of fun.

Sunshine on Leith - can we knock this out of the top five already please.

And a Hedgehog in a Pine Tree - I'm so surprised that this is here, it's such an inconsequential little thing. people like Christmas I suppose.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

oh god I try I really do, every email that comes through with a new comment makes my day but I'm terrible for leaving them all unanswered in my inbox. I'm sorry to everyone who has ever left a comment that I haven't responded to.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The Proctor House for sure. A Winter, Forever Ago is pretty bleak too.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most of them! probably the most joyous is something like Beneath a Big Blue Sky because you've been on a decent journey to get there. that goose threatening everyone's happiness and all.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not really. one comment I do get sometimes is that the way I write Remus/Sirius is OOC and yes I agree, it absolutely is. Remus in Beneath a Big Blue Sky has nothing to do with e.g. Remus in Ullswater. those men have never even met in a bathroom. James in A Brief History of Dragons is an arsehole compared to living legend James in Beneath a Big Blue Sky. Sirius in Statten Park is a complete stranger to Sirius in Heartstones. none of them, really, have much to do with their canon counterparts. just bits here and there but I haven't read the HP books in well over a decade and I don't really remember what these characters are actually like beyond the surface-level stuff, so a lot of what I write is fairly OOC. it's all done knowingly and intentionally and I'm not going to change that.

9. Do you write smut. If so, what kind?

oh gosh a little bit a little bit. please understand that I'm a repressed Englishwoman and I'm trying my hardest. Seventeen Hours and Statten Park are both fairly smutty. I'd like to write more but I'm awkward af.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

no not really my thing but I do like to take other stories and plonk marauders characters into similar worlds - Ullswater was very much inspired by If We Were Villains.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no but people keep nabbing them to get them printed and then apparently sell them? so actually maybe yes. grow up.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no because I'm a control freak and I don't allow my work to be replicated. sorry about it. I think people have done it for personal offline projects though and that's absolutely fine.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

back in the day I used to co-write with my then-partner but it was just bits and pieces, not full fics. again, I'm a control freak so I'd struggle with this. I need to get my own way always.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

right so I should say Remus/Sirius but honestly... Remus/James just reaches places other pairings simply cannot. so it's a toss up.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

oh god how long have you got. I think one of the reasons I dislike Sunshine on Leith so much is because I put that stupid note at the end promising a third part in a few weeks. that was in 2020 and I've still not done it. help.

16. What are your writing strengths?

description, particularly when it comes to: natural landscapes, buildings, food, weather. I think I'm alright at witty dialogue too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

actually writing anything down. also action, can't do action to save my life.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I don't think I've done it but I'd give it a go.

19. First Fandom you wrote for?

I think it was LOTR and yes it probably still exists somewhere on an old desktop computer at my dad's house and yes that thought keeps me up at night.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

The Proctor House and Beneath a Big Blue Sky

[more-than-fluff]

Touch ft Jungkook

Jungkook x Y/N

Summary - You visit your friend Jungkook after what feels like forever and a night in the club resurfaces old feelings between the two of you.

You had been friends with Jungkook for a few years at this point. You had met when travelling, bumped into him, and just started talking. Since then, he's become one of the most famous people in the world, and you've watched from the sidelines.

BTS were on a break since Jin had enlisted, so you decided it was a good time to travel to see you best friend.

The plane landed, and you were surrounded by the oh so familiar scenery that you loved. Stepping off the plane, the air greeted you like an old friend. The airport walk through was nice and easy. You don't take your time in moments like these as you know who's waiting for you outside. Of course, he couldn't stand in departures holding a massive, embarrassing sign. As much as you would've loved to see that. Instead, you walked outside and saw that car. His car.

A familiar figure was leaning on the hood, checking his phone for flight updates before he looked up and caught a glimpse of you. You both beamed with excitement, and you ran over to him, annoying many cars in the process as that involved running through a road, but you honestly couldn't a thing when he was in your sight.

"Y/N!!!!" He screamed as you ran into his arms. Picking you up and twirling you around.

This has probably been the longest you two have been apart. Normally, a few months would pass between visits, but this time, it was years. BTS had gotten so popular and so busy that they didn't really get a break in so long. But that only made you happy for them.

After what felt like forever, he put you down and just wanted to look at your face. You noticed his hair had gotten longer. You loved it. His arm had gotten a lot more colourful, but again, you loved it all.

"I've missed you so much Kook." You said, out of breath from the twirling and squealing of excitement.

"You have no idea, Butterfly."

Remever the song, 'Butterfly?' Yeah, since that was released, that's all Jungkook would call me. He kept saying it was a joke and had nothing to do with the lyrics of the song. But me being a romantic wished it had.

The gentleman he was, he opened the car door for me and before we knew it we were on route to his amazing apartment. I had only seen it through video calls and photos, so I was really looking forward to seeing it. It only meant that it was just going to be me and Jungkook for the night. Why am I so nervous?

He parked up in his designated space, walking to the elevator. The conversation never ended. Contact back and forth of me talking about graduating and my career now to world tours and new albums. Jungkook always found a way to never make my life look any less important than his. That's one thing I loved about him.

Walking into his home, I was left speechless, ceiling tall windows, many rooms to explore, a lot of mattresses which did confuse me a little, but I guess he went for comfort over aesthetic. I returned to the kitchen and he was making a coffee and him and I, we share very similar food and drinks likes and dislikes. It just made life easier when we were together I guess.

"Kook I love it here. You should be so proud of everything."

He laughed as he finished making drinks.

"I guess it's okay, but so much better now that you're here. You kept saying you were dying to put the Y/N touch into here."

He handed me my coffee as I examined the kitchen a little more, seeing where I could improve this place.

"You know what Kook, I don't think u could make this place anymore beautiful than what it is now."

He chuckled again, making me a little confused, especially when he looked up at me with an expression I hadn't really seen from him before. His eyes were different. Maybe it was just the lighting, but his pupils had invaded his eyes, complete darkness.

"I'm sure you'll find something Y/N."

As soon as he finished his sentence he was back to normal Jungkook, joking around and finding ways to make me laugh.

That night, he had planned for us to go out for drinks and maybe food as he phrased it. Obviously, the other boys had heard of my coming and tonight's arrangements and possibly without Jungkooks permission invites themselves.

When arriving at the first club, there were five other boys stood out front. The first I heard was Jimin as he turned.

"Y/N! Its Y/N guys!!"

They all turned, two ran towards me d the other three stood in patience. Tae and Jimin pretty much engulfed me in a hug between the two of them saying words of love and how much they missed me. Jungkook had to basically rip them off me.

"She can't breathe guys, honestly,"

The two boys laughed at his statement.

"Getting jealous?" Tae said, causing them both to laugh.

I laughed in return and was then greeted by Namjoon, Hobi, and Yoongi. All in the same way, a hug and words exchanged about the usual thing, how was the journey here? Has Jungkook behaved? Of course, I had to answer in a way that could get Jungkook into trouble, but what are friends for?

"I mean, he almost got me ran over when I came out of the airport, but other than that, he's been an angel."

Everybody laughed, including Jungkook this time as he nudged my arm in return before stating.

"Come on guys, let's just head in, Y/N's gonna freeze if we stay put here any longer."

With that, we all headed into this possibly exclusive club as we entered the doors. The bouncers let us straight in with no words exchanged, just a simple nod of the head. I'm not used to VIP treatment, but hey, I might get used to it.

The night went by so quickly. One drink became two, become a number I couldn't calculate any longer. I wasn't drunk, but I definitely wasn't sober anymore.

In the middle of the dance floor, I'm just feeling the music. I couldn't feel my legs anymore. The beat was carrying them. Time was pretty much non existence, it could've been 5 minutes or 5 hours, but I had lost it all when it came to tonight.

Jungkook came over looking somewhat concerned. Shouting over the music.

"Y/N, come on, we should go now. You've had maybe a little too much to drink. I don't blame you, I blame the two who had to go early."

Tae and Jimin had bought us three rounds of shots, I had done two. The rest of the group only did one, so the boys took it upon themselves to finish them all. Basically buying them a ticket home.

Jungkook wasn't sober either, but he probably had more sense than I did.

"But Kookie, I love this song. You can't make me leave when this is played."

I started dancing again. No one can make me leave when this song plays, not even in a coffee shop.

"Fine, I'll wait by the door. I want you there as soon as this finishes."

I give him a stern look.

"Kook you have not danced with me once, join me!"

I grabbed his arm and pulled him to me. He was close, very close. But I just danced, looking at him to dance with he. He let out a groan and eventually started to move. We were dancing together, I loved it. My hips swayed, arms in the air, but this time they landed on Jungkooks shoulders. We were dancing, he looked me in my eyes and those dangerous eyes of his returned, all black.

Suddenly the whole club disappeared and it was just us two. I couldn't read his mind, and I sure as hell hoped he couldn't read mine as I could've sworn his stare dipped to my lips for a split second. It's got to be the alcohol. He got closer and I couldn't help but bring myself to him, we were so close. Our lips barely lingered before a huge thump came out way and separated us. A group of girls partying, typical.

He grabbed my hand and led me to the door.

"We're going home." The only words he said.

Sat in the taxi, nothing was said between us. My mind was racing. Did we actually almost kiss? I mean, I had a crush on him, but surely it was nothing but a bit of play in my mind. He would never think the same.

Walking into the apartment, sloppy feet from me, but Jungkook was so steady he practically looked sober. He made me a drink of water in the kitchen and called me over.

"Drink Y/N" He basically commanded me, but I was in no state to argue.

I drank the glass in seconds and as I put it down, Kook grabbed it and filled it once more. He seemed agitated. I had made him angry.

"I'm sorry." I said head dipped. "I never should've made you dance with me. We should be just gone when you said so. I ruined things between us."

He stepped towards me. "Y/N." He said, but I didn't have the courage to raise my head and look. "Butterfly look at me." His voice had calmed. He hooked a finger beneath my chin and raised it. His eyes again.

"If I didn't want to dance with, I wouldn't have, trust me. I'd been wanting to all night, but I knew I wouldn't have been able to hold myself back anymore."

His eyes dropped to my lips again.

"But Kook I-"

His lips met mine. At first, it was gentle and sweet, but it grew. More lust came into the picture. The want between us has been simmering for so long that it had boiled over. So much for it being one-sided. We were kissing, holding each other wanting more from each other.

All of a sudden, his hands snaked to my waist and lifted me onto the kitchen counter. I wrapped my legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss. It felt so good, so natural.

He pulled back and stared into me before asking the question.

"Do you want to add your touch to my place Y/N?"

All I did was nod before he lifted me up, kissed me again, and walked me through to his bedroom. He lowered me gently onto the bed, stood, and took his t-shirt off. I've seen him topless many times, but right now, the sight of him like this made my thighs squeeze together. He came back to the bed, the weight lowering beneath him, he hovered above me.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this." He said before crashing his lips onto mine. It was more rough this time, my hands in his hair. Clothes being ripped off until we were both naked. He sat up and looked at me, I shouldbe felt self conscious but with him I could never be.

"You're beautiful, Butterfly." He leaned and pecked my lips. "And you're mine."

I heard the sound of foil ripping. He lowered his mouth to my nipple and took it in. Licking and sucking it, my pants quickened at the sensation. One of his hands trailed down me until it reached my soaked heat. He chuckled.

"You're soaked just for me, Y/N."

I nodded in response before his finger started playing with my clit. The smallest touch lit off fireworks in me. My pants became moans, I couldn't hold them in anymore, it felt too good.

"Do you want more Y/N?" I couldn't answer. The moans kept escaping as he hadn't moved hit finger from me. I could only manage a nod.

"Tell me Y/N." He pushed a finger inside me, my back arched in pleasure. "Use your words. What do you want?"

I couldn't hold it in anymore, I needed him.

"Fuck me Jungkook, please I can't wait anymore."

He pulled his fingers out and I could feel the tip of his member hovering.

"That's my girl." He said before pushing into me. He was so big I thought he wouldn't fit. He pushed in slowly before he filled me. Once I had gotten used to him, he sped up. The thrusts are getting harder and faster. I became an unravelled mess of moans and screams. I could feel the orgasm coming already.

"Kook please I... oh god I need."

He trusted in again.

"What so you need Y/N, tell me."

He trusted even harder.

"I need to come, please.... please I need it."

He thrusted one more time.

"Come for me Y/N, come all over my cock."

That was all I needed, I let go completely, and the wave of pleasure came over me completely. It felt like it lasted forever, and I felt Jungkook shake with pleasure. I knew he had finished also.

As we both came down from our highs, he layer next to me.

"I can't believe we just did that." I said after getting my breath back.

Jungkook turned to me, brushing hair out of my face.

"Butterfly, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to want me too."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"Kook, I have had a crush on you basically since we met. I just thought you'd never want someone like me."

My cheeks blushed.

Jungkook came closer and kissed me. Slowly, letting it linger a second more.

"Well I guess we're both just stupid aren't we."

I slapped his arm, and he rolled over laughing.

"Not stupid! There were just no signs, so I kept it to myself!"

Still laughing he turned back to me.

"Well Butterfly you've added your touch to the kitchen, the bedroom."

His eyes moved to the shut door in this room.

"Care to make your touch in the bathroom?"