#the solo shoots are on fire too

[dngsicheng]

they ate

[ddejavvu]

Hi, saw you said stranger things requests and I have one !! Steve and reader going to a party, and he accidentally spills his drink on her short and he panics because he thinks of what happened with Nancy and reader ends up having to comfort him with vodka all over her shirt :,) thank you

From the minute the bronze liquid comes in contact with your cream top, Steve's already reacting strangely. It's like a live wire stabbed through the base of his spine, shooting heated sparks towards his shoulders that tense.

"Hey, I- I'm sorry," He stammers, trying to set the now half-empty cup onto the counter. It doesn't work, and the cup falls to the ground, splashing this time over your feet. You take a hasty step back, and Steve's hands reach out to catch you with too strong of a grip.

"No, don't- I'm sorry," One glance into his eyes and they're alive with the same fever that's tripping up his words, "I'm sorry, don't go, please. Just- just come into the kitchen, please?"

"It's sticky here," You raise and lower your foot a few times, music not helping you assess the situation as it booms in your ears, "Steve, you're-" You grimace at the tight hold of his large hands, "You're squeezing a bit, Steve, let me go."

You try to pull away from him, but that only makes it worse. He holds tighter, pulls harder, and you have to grab his own arm to maneuver him a different way around the island.

"Okay- okay! Just- come this way, god," You hiss, "Steve, 's starting to hurt."

Then you're the only one holding up the embrace; he's dropped you like you're on fire. You don't have time to ponder why, you just keep dragging him through the sea of partygoers and into the semi-isolated kitchen.

"'Kay, can you get some paper towels?" You turn on the faucet, water running cold as you assess the damage to your shirt. When no reply comes, you turn back to Steve, finding him lingering right where you'd left him, his face pale.

"Steve? The paper towels?" You try again, to no avail.

"Steve," You shut off the faucet, feeling liquor slosh through your socks as you step over to him, "What's the matter? Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry. For- ruining your shirt, and squeezing.. too tight."

"It's okay," You hum cautiously, "I can wash it. And it's not like you bruised me. Paper towels?"

"I didn't mean to." He promises, his big brown eyes still blown wide open, "I really didn't. And I can pay for the- for the shirt, like- dry cleaning. I promise. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," You promise, "Steve, it's just a shirt. It's okay, I just need paper towels."

Your prolonged reassurances seem to set him straight, and he looks like a robot rebooting. His eyes flash with something unreadable and he snaps to attention, stumbling backwards and trying to maneuver the unfamiliar kitchen.

"Right. Right, uh- paper towels. They're- here!"

He brandishes the roll towards you almost aggressively, and you wet three beneath the water you've turned back on. He takes the wad from your hand before you can apply it to your stained shirt, dabbing gently at the remains of his solo cup.

"Sorry," He breathes, tongue poking out from between his lips as he focuses on rubbing the stain away.

"It's okay." You remind him, craning your neck up to kiss at his chin. He still looks pale, like he's recovering from a brush with death, but at the feeling of your lips against his chin he looks up at you, and the corners of his lips quirk up into a weak smile.

"It's- uh, not coming out." He murmurs, "I'll have it dry-cleaned, um, tomorrow, I'll take it, and-"

"Okay. We'll figure something out." You keep your voice soothing, although you don't know why you need to, "It's okay, Steve. Hey, do you wanna just go home? We could do a movie night instead - get away from the noise and the people, and I could change my clothes."

"Yeah," He flounders slightly, hand still working to scrub the alcohol off of your shirt, "Yeah, uh- where...?"

"Your place," You decide, "If you don't mind me wearing your shirt?"

His eyes shine now, and his smile seems less rickety, "Yeah. No! No- I don't mind it. My place, and- and my shirt."

[thesplatterman]

tip tuesday: the flyfish (and how to krill them!)

an overview on the flyfish:

the flyfish is one of, if not, the most hated boss salmonids in the salmon run salmonpedia. this flying smallfry shoots out a total of eight tentamissiles across the map. their armor is impervious to ink and so, must be taken out by the use of bombs chucked into their missile launchers.

method one: the casual (bombs)

the usual method is to obviously chuck bombs at the launchers. be careful as to not get too close or too far away, and get to a high inkable area as to avoid the hordes of salmon by the shoreline. throw your first bomb into the right launcher first, as that launcher directs the person in front of it (or the person closest to it.) refuel and launch the other bomb at the remaining launcher. it can be soloed in one go, but it's better to do it with teammates.

method two: weaponry

certain weapons can help with taking out flyfish faster:

explosher: acts the same as bombs. fire the explosher at the launchers to instantly take them out. repeat the same steps of preparation as the first method for the best results.

grizzco splatana: charge up your weapon to cut through any type of surface. you have to aim upwards and move forward towards the flyfish in order to reach the salmonid inside. you need to fend off salmon and also avoid the sludge water, as the splatana isn't easy to stop.

grizzco slosher: the slosher can penetrate any surface with its slosh. fire at the pilot once to krill the flyfish, but save the other three for salmon population control.

method three: specials

the specials are efficient in krilling most bosses, however they are limited to two a round (excluding the one refill in the xtra rounds) and some don't penetrate the forces.

the specials that can krill flyfish: inkjet, crabtank (both need to be used as explosher), triple inkstrike, kraken (to an extent), triple splashdown(?), killer wail 5.1, booyah bomb

the specials that dont: wave breaker, reefslider

method four: cohock sweep*

cohock rounds are by far the easiest way to take out any type of salmonid, but be careful. you can't dodge missiles while within the cannon. if you aim in the middle of the launchers, you can take out both of them at the same time with one shot. if not, then just aim for one at a time. if you get targeted, run away from the launcher and maybe get some eggs in before going back and manning the launcher.

method five: salmonid treason

flyfish can be killed with other salmonids, although its very rare to do so. one method is to make a slamming lid crash on top of the flyfish by either baiting the slamming lid or splatting the slamming lid. another method is to use good ol' joe and make him eat the flyfish by baiting him near the flyfish. however, you also need to lure the slamming lid close to the flyfish and not get splat by the jets of the flyfish or any other salmonid.

extra tips:

to find a flyfish in the fog, follow where the arrows come from when you're targeted. if you're not targeted, follow the opposite of where the missiles launch are coming from.

to avoid flyfish missiles, hide under grates and other objects. if you can't find a place to hide, swim and dodge the missiles.

each missile reload takes five to seven seconds, depending on if they need to relocate the machine or not to get away from you. mostly they just hover in one place.

with multiple flyfish on the loose, it is recommended to use a killer wail 5.1 special to get rid of all the missiles. you need to get to at least the third round in order to not lose any points.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Helloo !! ^^ Its me again ahaha 🙈

Feeling you with the number of RQs ! (': i have a lot of unfinished ones too, and I FEEL SO JORRIVLE FOR SENDING ONE in knowing that💔💔😭😭😭😭😭😭, but this has been in the forefront of my mind 😵‍💫. Please don't feel pressured to respond! 🫣 I won't blame you if you'd rather not to ☺️🙌//

...

Yandere Outlaw, having abducted reader, not at all having had anticipated the strength of their connections.

While reader isn't necessarily strong themselves, they have a strong family, a line of uncles and brothers that are feared across the West for their brutality, their violence, and most notably, their loyalty. This is especially jarring given that reader is the youngest in the family, so of course they would be overprotective over them, as weren't they just the baby of the family, their sweet lil pumpkin?

It's why they are second only to Outlaw himself in terms of criminality, notorious instead, however for how they are willing to kill for blood feud, and to wreak havoc in a bid to avenge anyone that crossed the path of their family member(s).

Now picture this: having heard of reader's abduction, to describe their reaction as fury, rage, even wrath, would all be an understatement. They would be getting together, coordinating a plan, and intending to shoot the damn bastard dead, as scum like him should pay for messing with the wrooong criminals.

Now this brings me to my question: what would Outlaw's reaction be to waking up one day to see not a trace of their darling, their hostage rescued by their cowboy brothers and uncles? (Or something more creative than this,, ^^"" ", i doubt that theyd leave him with lungs and eyes, let alone ALIVE after locating his whereabouts and saving their sweet lil pumpkin, thw baby of the family. My imagination can only take me so far an idk 😓💔)

Would Outlaw go after each individual member of the family down, on a furious witch-hunt in a bid to rescue their darling? After all, Outlaw has been on countless raids riding solo with nothing aside from a horse and his trusty shotgun, became infamous for being the West's deadliest gunslinger, has eliminated the wealthiest businessmen and robbed them of all their money, and made a career out of being a criminal.

Or would he accept defeat? This is clearly not a family to mess with, and it was a miracle that they hadn't put his beheaded head on a stake and set it on fire, condemnimg his corpse. He'd have to be a fool to risk this, wouldn't he? Was reader, his darling, really worth that risk?

Would love to hear your thoughts ! ☺️💞

ALSO SORRU FOE THE REALLY LONG ASKS I FEEL SO BAD BC I GDT CARRIED AWAY JDJSJAJAJASSS 😭😭🙏 PLS FORGIVR ME AAAAAAARRHEHSS

My sweet Anon, we simply must find a name for you ! Your ideas cannot go without an identity to which we can attribute their creation ^^. Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful mind with us <3 !

♡ This occurrence is very in-character for the Outlaw to encounter; albeit never on such an intimate level.

♡ He’s made enemies out of every criminal in the West – namely for resigning them to a life imprisoned while making off with his loot, gifting them a sentence he’d have served himself were he not so adept at the skill of escapism. In the early days when he first started working with other criminals, at least; he’d never make such a mistake now.

♡ You see, the Outlaw is the very definition of work smarter, not harder. So while he may seem as if he’s given up his pursual of you by hanging back, letting you go back to your family and re-integrate with civilised life, he’s tracking you. Watching you. Anticipating your every move.

♡ He’ll find you – eventually – but he won’t swoop in to retrieve you at the first opportunity; he knows that this will simply incur another rescue effort and his imminent execution.

♡ He’ll start to pick off the male authority figures in your family, starting with the weakest (however large and imposing they may be). 

♡ He knows that, without the leader, the pack will scatter, meaning that there will still be some of your family he missed during his executions – members who could still come looking for you upon discovering your kidnapping (again).

♡ Sure, picking off the weakest ones will put the strongest on-edge, but it keeps them packed together – around you – right where he wants them.

♡ The Outlaw knows of the Reader’s family’s reputation. He’s even met them during the occasional heist; opportunists by trade in their willingness to jump upon the corpse of the Outlaw’s victories as soon as his back is turned. But he also knows none are as keen and accurate a marksman as he, and he uses this to his advantage.

♡ While the Outlaw specialises in short-range firearms, he is more than capable with long-distance ones, too. And, once he lures your protectors away from you, he’ll ensure their execution is swift and unforeseen. He’ll perch atop a sturdy tree branch and steady himself, bringing the head of whoever fell for his diversion into the sights of a Whitworth he dusted off and brought from home.

♡ The minute he knows you’re all alone – that your uncles and brothers and cousins are too busy painting the town red with their bodies to stow you away – is when he’ll swoop in, plucking you out of bed and slinging you over his shoulder as he had all those months ago during your first meeting, winding you as he throws you atop his horse and bolting off into the horizon.

♡ So, to put it simply, Anon: yes. To the Outlaw, you are absolutely worth the effort.

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

[ipowlin]

So we all know that gem and pearl together is a force to be reckoned with. They have intimidated everyone on the server and rightfully so, they do not only have the bark but also a giant bite.

Now pearl. Pearl alone has so much potential.

She uses something that hinders her performance to her advantage, that thing is her ping.

She has the skill and strategy to solo half of the server if she went rabid again.

And that's the thing. She won't go rabid. She's kind and patient. Pearl has a potential that she couldn't show due to her loyalty and kindness.

Now you see, gem does not have a problem like that.

She's ruthless and blood thirsty whenever she feels like it. She is a leader, someone to look up to in a war. Gem brings the worst in pearl. She tells her things. She tells her to kill, to chase, to hunt. And pearl listens. She listens well.

Gem without pearl is like a warrior with nothing to fight with and for.

Pearl without gem is like a weapon without a wielder to protect and assist.

Gem knew. She knew that if she had gotten her hand on pearl she could rule the server alongside a witch with undying loyalty.

Pearl just wanted to be friends with gem because she was fun :3 she's silly like that

They've set plans, and strategies to defeat the enemy together. But before they know it, They've become each other's enemies.

Pearl asked gem

“gem. You don't want to do this, right…?”

And gem told her with a heavy heart. Knowing that there's no way that they could be together without betraying their day one alliances.

“No. I don't…”

gem ran away, feeling disappointed and betrayed as someone that promised to be her friend had attacked her without warning.

But before they could finish their conversation. A MASSIVE F[redacted]G C[redacted]T SHOT AT GEM. MAKING THEM FLEE. NICE JOB JOEL. (/Lh I love Joel beans)

And pearl, The weapon. Does what she does best and started to attack whoever her allies targets. Like a loyal wolf.

And being betrayed by pearl. That's something that happens once in a millenia.

She hid in her cherry peak as the mounders surrounded them. Gem sees pearl in the distance, stalking thought the forest to find a prey, and they locked eyes. Yet weirdly enough, none of them opened fire. Or even pulled out their bow.

They just shook their head at eachother as a symbol of peace and alliance. Friendship. Because that's what they were, they didn't want to kill eachother, they did not want to hurt one another. but their alliances. They forced them to do so. And they did, out of loyalty.

At that moment gem panics and jumped across the trees to tell both of them to stop shooting. But Scott just ignored her pleas and kept on going. Giving pearl no other option but to retaliate.

They stood their ground, looking at eachother with looks of pity before Scott pushed gem out of the way and shot at pearl. (GREAT JOB, SCOTT. 😡) She dodged before firing back at Scott.

Pearl told gem that she cannot stop what she is doing. But also that she does not have the heart to harm her either. She only wanted the Scotts.

Pearl went deeper into the inner walls of the scottages and was pummeled by arrows, yet she still presisted. impulse died without warning.

Shortly after she heard the yells of her allies and sprinted towards them. But she was too late for Scott and gem had killed them both.

Gem had thought. Maybe. Just maybe if she did not have her allies, she does not have her loyalty. And that she might join them.

Because gem knows that she could beat her. She knows that for a fact.

As she searched through the middle of the battlefield Scott ran up to her and started yelling at her to kill him. To take his heart and to not lose without a fight.

Without any other option she just did it. She stabbed him, gaining his hearts. And shortly after. Pearl came.

Not alone though, like she has hoped. She was with scar

Without any second though pearl shot at gem without mercy. Something that if un-character like of her. Pearl told her “dont make me do this, gem.”

I'm wich gem replied. Without sending her any arrows. “im not making you do anything! Why are you doing this.” as she ran away from them

Pearl chased after her. Though yelling “i don't know!”

Gem asked her “we’re friends! Why?!” and pearl repeated herself. “i don't know!!”

When they met again, pearl has not attacked gem. She tried to talk to her. To megotiate, anything that would mean not killing her. But before she could do that scar had jumped in and attacked gem again.

And what does a weapon do when given a target? They attack. So pearl ran in with her sword. And quite literally stabbed gem in the back.

Killing her.

Pearl got a wielder in the end. And it was not gem.

It was scar

[fillinforlater]

When Life Gives You Bandmates, Make A Mess Out Of Them

Huh Yunjin x Nakamura Kazuha

Length: 2830 words

Tags: idol x idol, falling in love, getting the hots for someone, in heat but totally not gay, sweaty and scared, in denial, lesbian sex, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, turning-someone-gay kink, making out, passionate sex, squirting, rubbing on each other, pit licking, pit kink, taking control, totally_straight!Yunjin / confident!Kazuha

TW: disclaimer: it's just a fic with kinks--no, you can't turn people gay/straight with force, but you should know that

Inspiration: @friskyriskywhisky once send an ask a looooong time ago with "J-line getting all the girls" and this suddenly came up, so I made this.

(A/N: Hope you like this idol x idol piece with a fucking great ship tbh. L4 is still in the works)

"Hurry up, we're pressed for time."

The photographer slaps his thigh repeatedly, each smack transferring his stress to everyone around him. Kazuha quickly steps up, with her simple yet addictingly beautiful outfit and long strands of chocolate colored hair. Her bandmate however is still nowhere to be seen.

"Where is the other?" the photographer sighs and turns to one of the staff members. The woman shrugs and walks towards the dressing room, shouting one name over and over again. 

"Yunjin! Yunjin, hurry up! We don't have all day!"

"I'm sorry!" Yunjin shouts in panic as she sprints out from underneath her stylists busy hands, through other staff members until she's right next to Kazuha.

"Ah perfect," the photographer says and picks up his large camera. "The behind the scenes team is also ready, so please get into position. Facing each other, hands on—you know the drill."

The two girls nod, it's not their first shooting session after all. Business as usual, one could say, nothing too special, too crazy—yet something is building up. You never know, until it's too late.

My heart is beating faster, Yunjin thinks and takes a deep breath. I should not have sprinted here.

"A bit closer please," the photographer gestures with his hands.

Kazuha takes a confident step forward, Yunjin hesitates.

That's a bit too close—wait, what is this? Why does she smell so good?

"Try to lock eyes, gaze a little," he shouts with anticipation.

Kazuha has her eyes already locked on target, when Yunjin slowly raises her head.

Wha—do-don't look at me like that!

For a fraction of a second, a smirk. Yunjin can barely keep her wrist on the younger's shoulder.

"Perfect."

Perfect indeed. Fuck, why is she so pretty?

Kazuha smirks. 

No matter how fierce and cool her facade is, Yunjin can't hide it anymore. She averts her eyes, her head to the side and, as if her heart is directly connected to her lips, she cracks a wide, shy smile. Kazuha joins her and they both begin to giggle.

"Nice, nice, very good," the photographer praises and someone from the behind the scenes crew gives a thumbs up. "Great content, well done girls."

"Shall we go again?" Kazuha asks, her lips still formed in a cheerful smile, and Yunjin can't help but stare. If it were up to her—

Please, again, Zuha.

Wait, fuck, what am I even thinking?

"It was perfect, I think we got everything,” the photographer responds. “Time for your solo pictures."

Kazuha gives a thumbs up and tries to leave the set, but Yunjin is still frozen before her, eyes a bit teary, arms a bit shaky, her smile a bit wider than usual.

"Yunjin-unnie, would you please—"

"Ahhh, of course, Zuha," Yunjin jumps and flails before getting out of Kazuha's way. "Sorry, I'm a bit lost today."

"Nah, it's fine," Kazuha waves her Unnies' worries off. "It's kinda cute."

With a wink the younger girl disappears behind the dressing room door. Yunjin's face starts to burn. The rosy flush that was about to settle on her features turns to the red of fire and no fire truck can cool off her heart right now. Flames engulf it again and again, as if someone keeps pouring gasoline on it.

What's wrong with her today? No, what's wrong with me today? Just a photoshoot, and of course she is pretty, Chaewon is pretty too, Sakura too—no, that's not it. 

But she smells so good, and her smile, those lips, the way she is confident yet acts shy at the same time—

Yunjin reaches for one of the water bottles and settles down, somewhere far away from the clicking of the cameras. No behind the scenes footage of her should exist right now, it's already a bit embarrassing that they captured her being somewhat unprofessional earlier.

Seriously, get your act together, She tells herself. What about it? Not that I haven’t seen pretty people before, not that I like girls that way. Probably just overworked, curse this comeback schedule. 

A couple of minutes later, Kazuha steps out of the dressing room, a blanket wrapped around her body. It hides her new outfit and her great body. For some reason, Yunjin has to think of the latter first, but she tries to shake it off and takes another sip from her bottle.

“Ready for the final set of pictures?” the photographer asks as one of the stylists combs and curls the final strands of Kazuha’s immaculate hair.

“Yes, where should I put this blanket?”

“Just put it on the floor, we’ll focus on your upper body for now.”

Like the curtains to a theatrical masterpiece, the gray blanket rolls off of Kazuha’s shoulder to reveal something so marvelous, Yunjin almost spits out the water in her mouth, shit. 

The japanese girl wears a large, open cardigan loosely hanging from one of her shoulders. Tight skinny jeans wrap around her hips, but thank God they do not hide her belly button and chiseled abs, the product of hard work and divine favoritism. What makes Yunjin gawk the most however is the exposed part of skin above Kazuha’s chest, a biteable collarbone, a lickable shoulder, fuck, I’d bite and lick my way up to her lips, oh my God, she is so fucking hot. 

Her Dongsaeng begins to take poses and make expressions that strike Yunjin’s body with heat, from head to toes, but most importantly, around her heart and at her crotch. Her eyes linger on the skin as she fans air to herself, but every attempt at cooling her off is futile. Kazuha just goes on, face disinterested, hand placed to the side of her head—that’s just personal now.

Yunjin tries to turn around, rather looking at the white concrete wall instead of the flawless skin she'd love to place hickeys on—she already failed and continues to stare. She can feel a tiny trail of her own wetness run down her trembling thighs and her drooling mouth falls open slowly. Luckily, no one is paying attention to her right n—

The camera. Behind the scene footage of her at the worst possible time. There is no explaining the rosiness of her cheeks or the glassiness of her eyes. Yunjin turns away from the camera and then back to it.

"Ah," she groans and dramatically fans air to herself. "It's so hot today, I—I need some water."

Shit, that was so stupid, Yunjin thinks as she tries to laugh it off. To make it worse, the cameraman gets closer, confused at the joke and her expression. Yunjin makes a finger heart, then hides her face in embarrassment.

Oh my God, I'm such an idiot. The only thing hot here is Zuha, for fucks sake. Why am I tripping so hard?

Why is she making me trip so hard?

#

Yunjin twists in turns underneath her sheets. It’s too hot beneath them, but it’s impossible for her to fall asleep without it. Sweat builds up on her legs, cooling them; it’s completely different in between her legs. The liquid building up there just makes the heat worse, it makes her more desperate and pushes her into a frenzy.

I need her so bad. Zuha, you make me go crazy!

Yunjin opens her eyes. The surprisingly strong light of the moon shines through the open window, onto the bed beside her. In their dorm, Yunjin shares a room with the person she longs for—it feels more like a curse than a blessing as of now though. Kazuha’s toned back, partially covered by her sports bra, is turned to Yunjin, but it suffices to start the elders' fantasies.

Zuha, I-I want to feel her skin, the shoulders, the back, then the abs, God, those hard, perfect abs. I need to grab them, hng.

Fuck it.

“Zuha, are you still awake?” Yunjin whispers, her voice seconds before breaking, her fingers entangled in the hem of her shorts.

“Yes, Unnie,” Kazuha whispers back and turns around. She looks beautifully sleepy, eyes narrow, blanket pressed to her chest. Small beads of sweat on her temple show that she is somewhat hot as well. “You keep turning all the time, it’s pretty loud.”

“I-I’m sorry about that, bu-but—” Yunjin takes a deep breath. 

“—it’s your fault, Zuha-yah.”

Yunjin climbs out of her bed and walks over to Kazuha’s. The Japanese girl looks at her confused and sits upright on the mattress. Yunjin can’t help but stare down at the perfect figure, the heaving chest, the thick thighs, I’m so sorry, Kazuha.

“I need you, Zuha.”

“Unnie? What’s wrong with you?”

“Please touch me.”

Yunjin pulls down her shorts to about her knees to reveal her shaven crotch drenched in slick arousal. She squirms and shivers when a tiny breeze comes through the wide open window, her eyes are unable to look at Kazuha, yet it is the only thing she wants to look at. 

“Please, Zuha-yah, your fi-fingers, I—”

Yunjin’s voice is tiny, very weak. She is not sure Kazuha even hears the words, let alone understand what she means. It's a tense moment where fear and arousal reach a new peak for Yunjin, I can’t think of anything else—what have I done? This was stupid.

Suddenly, hands on Yunjin’s hips, a warm touch on both sides. When she re-opens her eyes, Kazuha’s face is on eye-level with her and so close. Lips could almost touch, and Yunjin breaths heavily through her nostrils as she becomes stiff. Kazuha looks unimpressed.

“I did not know you swing this way, Unnie,” she says and pulls Yunjin onto the bed, having her face close at all times. “I thought you liked guys.”

“W-well, I, uhm—ah!”

Yunjin moans long and deep when Kazuha’s palm suddenly cups her pussy. A long drag by the middle finger, from her entrance, over her lips and clit to her navel—Kazuha has her pinned to the bed with a single digit. The younger idol smiles for a second but then her unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression returns and she blows air on Yunjin’s cheeks.

“Ts, you can’t even admit it. That is kinda sad.”

Kazuha’s hand roams Yunjin’s tummy, then moves up and over the mid-sized, covered breasts. Yunjin groans as her hard nipples get rubbed through the fabric, the jolt of stimulation sends her hips upwards. She is bucking them upwards, please Kazuha, touch me, use your hands, but instead, Kazuha put one hand beneath Yunjin’s head.

“Where do you want this?” Kazuha asks and drags her finger over Yunjin’s chest again while forcing her head to watch with the pillow-like hand.

“A-at my cro-crotch.”

“Aw, Unnie, that was nothing. Try again.”

“I-I want them in my p-pussy, plea-please.”

“Almost there, Unnie.”

“Please, Kazuha, finger my pussy!”

“Good girl, Yunjin.”

Kazuha wastes no time and quickly searches for Yunjin’s slit. Quick rubs over Yunjin’s clit makes the elders head go haywire, before Kazuha inserts two of her digits into the wet cavern. Yunjin moans loudly, her body instinctively trying to force the fingers to move in order to feel them craze her cunt. Kazuha pulls them out however and rolls her eyes. 

“So greedy,” she says and makes Yunjin look at her awaiting cunt, fingers not inside anymore. “Greedy girls don’t get what they want, Yunjin.”

“Kazuha, please,” Yunjin whines and pouts her dry lips.

“Admit it,” Kazuha says sternly, ring finger circling Yunjin’s clit. “Or are you just a bit lost today, like earlier, during the shoot? Do you like guys, and hope that I am one of them? It’s just a phase, huh? Not real feelings, just something that you talked yourself into, right?”

“Hng.”

Yunjin groans, her face burning from desire and shame, a lot of uncertainty engulfing her, but at the same time, the answer, the right answer is so painfully obvious. Kazuha is so hot, hotter than any person ever, literally flawless, and her fingers are so close, ah!

“Say it, Yunjin.

“Say it.”

“Ka-Kazuha, you—

“—you made me gay!”

Kazuha smiles and slams her hand onto Yunjin’s pussy. The short burst of pain makes Yunjin gasp, but what leaves her truly speechless is the two fingers that start to pump and curl inside her heat. Kazuha pulls Yunjin’s hair, makes her look at how eagerly her cunt takes the digits. Yunjin can’t deal with it, her mind goes blank, her moans become feral. She screams repeatedly when Kazuha makes sure that her palm grinds vigorously on her clit

“Ruin this bed, Yunjin,” Kazuha groans, her voice becoming lower and more sultry. “Sweat on it, drool on it, cum on it. Spray your juice all over it and you’ll be a good gay girl.”

Kazuha! You’re so good at this, I want nothing more, only your touch, your fingers, your body! I’m so gay for you, ah!

“Kazuha, I-I’m so close—no, I’m cumming!”

Kazuha giggles and focuses on Yunjin’s clit more. No more words, just a booming scream that fills the entire dorm, even the street outside. Someone standing beneath the window, however high it may be up, surely knows what’s happening upstairs in the shared room. Someone launches their nectar out of her cunt in an orgasmic release while the other smiles and kisses her tenderly, continuously teasing the entrance to get a bit more squirt out.

Your fingers, your lips, Kazuha~

“You came so much, Yunjin,” Kazuha says happily, rosy cheeks and the biggest of smiles. Yunjin loses herself in the younger’s hazelnut eyes, her own full with tears of overstimulation. Suddenly, Kazuha starts to remove Yunjin’s bra, then undresses herself. Before Yunjin can react, they are both fully naked and Kazuha is on top of her, breasts, abs and pussies rubbing against each other.

“You have an amazing figure, Yunjin. Bigger breasts and a firm butt.” 

Kazuha gently slaps the latter and watches Yunjin melt even more into the wet bed.

“Y-you too, Kazuha. I-I want to touch all of it.”

“Then do it, silly,” Kazuha chuckles. “Your arms have been stiff this entire time. Just feel me up—or do you like this more?”

Kazuha entangles her fingers with Yunjins and then pins both her hands above her head onto a pillow. Yunjin looks and feels even more open now, as her sweaty, smooth pits are exposed and her amazing figure is in perfect view now. 

“Kazuha~”

“You like this, don’t you? My gay little girl wants me to touch her more, right?”

“Yes~”

With a big smirk, Kazuha starts to grind on Yunjin. Stiff nipples rub stiff nipples, a hard clit rubs another hard clit, curves and curves start to become one entity. Kazuha kisses all over Yunjin’s face, from ear to ear, over cheeks, chin or nose, until they engage in a passionate make out session, which urges Kazuha to grind her cunt faster on Yunjin’s.

“You like this, Yunjin?” Kazuha asks, lips still loosely connected to Yunjins. Drool runs from her mouth as she nods. Kazuha shifts the focus of her tongue further down and then suddenly to the right, orbs still locked with the heavily breathing, moaning girl below her. 

“What about this?”

Gently, Kazuha starts to lick across Yunjin’s exposed pit, the salty sweat hitting her taste buds, but instead of making her back off, they urge her to lick faster. Yunjins mouth is agape, her hips begin to work in tandem with Kazuhas to give more stimulation to her dripping pussy. 

“B-but it’s s-so sweaty,” Yunjin stutters, against the natural reaction of her body which is to succumb to Kazuha’s marvelous play on this sensitive spot.

“That’s why I like it so much,” Kazuha responds in a sexy hum and kisses, sucks even on the skin in the pit; everything to push the whimpering girl into another orgasm, which works faster than she would have imagined. A lot more quietly this time, Yunjin’s wets the bed and her legs in a fountain-like squirt while Kazuha makes out with her hairless armpit. 

A little more than a minute later, the two of them lay in their own beds, dressed in new clothes, breaths still quick, but trying to sleep nonetheless. Yunjin faces the wall, in heaven and at the same time embarrassed. She tries to close her eyes, but they can’t stay closed yet. She turns to Kazuha’s bed and peeks right into Kazuha’s sleepy face.

“Sleep tight, Unnie. Try not to keep me awake this time.”

“S-sure, Zuha.”

#

Yunjin wobbles to the breakfast table. Kazuha and Chaewon are already sitting and eating their cereal, while Sakura is in the kitchen making coffee. Yunjin’s heart beats faster, but she tries to play it cool and just sits down next to Kazuha like she usually does. As she reaches for the cereal however, Chaewon slams her hands on the table and her face turns bright red.

“You-you are a screamer!” she shouts at Yunjin. “Control your voice next time, jeez!” 

The room goes deadly silent, as if all the life had been snapped away. 

“Huh?!”

(A/N2: Adding some Kazuha and Yunjin for beauty appreciation just because!)

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 1

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

"Tell me the news," Minseo says before you're even all the way through the door, hauling you over to the couch pushed against the back wall of the room.

Hayoon’s head turns, seated on the other end watching the final four members of their group clean choreography. You don't know her very well compared to Minseo and a couple of the others; she's only been a trainee at JYP for a matter of months, and you'd started working as a group just ten or twelve weeks ago.

Minseo though, you've known for years, ever since she entered the company with no dance skills to speak of but the full voice of an angel. Minseo, you'd been excited beyond belief to debut with. Minseo, you'd been friends with through the worst and the best years here, until they had pulled you apart with no warning.

"This is a lot of manic energy when I could be about to tell you that my contract is terminated," you say, to hide the way your teeth rattle against each other, your heart pounding in your chest. Your nerves are run ragged from the hours spent in that room, executives staring you down - and even now, Hayoon stares from the corner, however unobtrusively.

Minseo bites back a ruder comment, a hand slapping your knee. "That's not the face you'd be wearing if they ended your contract," she tells you confidently. Probably correctly, too.

You can't stop the small smile that tugs at your lips, the rise of emotion down in your chest that squeezes at your lungs. "See?" Minseo cries, pointing at you. "They didn't fire you. They made you an offer."

Slowly, you nod. "They made me an offer," you admit - and for a minute, all the apprehension that has been building in your chest relieves. You're going to debut, one way or another. You're going to live out the dream you've all been chasing for so long now; you're just going to do it-

"Solo debut?" Minseo guesses, and your smile tightens, struggling to slide right off your face. 

"Group debut," you correct her; and then, because there's no better way to tell her, blurt out, "They offered me a contract within an established group. To replace a missing member."

Minseo stares at you, her fingers stiff where they cling to the seat cushion you sit upon. "Which group?" she questions - skipping over, for now, how unusual the circumstances are, the hundred other questions there are to ask about how and why and what the hell are you talking about.

You take a breath, because it's only going to get weirder. "Stray Kids?" you say tentatively, as if she might not know the name - but of course she does. Everyone here knows of them, if not knowing them personally.

"That's a male group," Hayoon says from the corner, because Minseo is too busy stuttering her way through several questions to voice any single one clearly. 

"JYP are interested in making them a co-ed group, if I'm interested in taking the contract," you reply, near-verbatim from the meeting you've just sat through, and twist in your seat to look at her. You don't know her very well, but you've always liked her - calm under pressure, logical and shrewd in her judgment, yet still able to have fun outside of practice. 

"In what world are you not taking the contract?" asks Minseo, who has never once let an opportunity slip through her cut-throat little fingers.

"In this world, maybe," Hayoon shoots back without hesitation, "where she'd be the only girl in a group that's not only all male but also two years her senior."

You don't know how Hayoon managed to sum it all up in one sentence, but she's right; the hesitation that builds up in your chest, the welling fear that you're going to end up somewhere worse than an empty dorm room, your friends debuting without you. It's because of the untenable position the executives have offered you - to join a group of seniors, to always be an other within their unit...

"What happens if you don't take the contract?" Minseo asks.

"I get dropped from the company," you answer, and then shrug. You think it comes off as very nonchalant, despite the pit in your stomach. "I'll be too old for the next planned group, and they aren't willing to offer me a solo contract."

"But they can offer a random contract in a male group?" Minseo presses.

Hayoon is pensive, her brow creased in thought. "Co-ed groups are insanely popular right now," she says, "but adding a girl to an existing boy group is...weird."

"It's creating publicity for the group and the company," you recite, the words still fresh in your mind from another woman's mouth. "They want to do something new and exciting. Something people might talk about."

"Everything always comes down to money or clout," Hayoon sighs.

"I think you should do it," Minseo puts in, leaning back into the sofa. "What else are you going to do, just quit? You've been here like six years for nothing then."

"Four," you correct her, though six isn't wrong; the first two years had just been spent in another company, slowly realizing that they had no intention of debuting you. "And I can try another company still. I'm twenty-two and I look like, eighteen, I'm not dead."

"Another company is risky though," Hayoon points out. "You're trusted and respected in JYP - if I were them, that's why I'd have offered you the contract, not because of talent or anything. Another company isn't going to care at all if you get a chance to debut, even if you audition perfectly and never make a mistake."

"How are you so wise, unnie?" Minseo asks teasingly, and a smile curves the other girl's lips.

"I've been around the block a few times," she responds. "Got friends in high places, giving me advice. How do you think I got here?"

You feel slightly uncomfortable at that; the insinuation she's making. The thought creeps into your head that she stole your spot, but you chase it away just as quickly as it comes - your spot is empty now, not filled by someone else. Your fight is with whatever face of management looked at a photo of you and decided to rip it up, not the girls down here, and there is no point losing friends and allies over it anyway. It's already done. Midnight isn't the path you will be allowed to take.

You turn to look at Hayoon, somewhat surprised at what else she is saying. "You think I should do it too?" you question.

Hayoon is slow to answer, thinking it through one last time. "It's a shit choice," she says, the language slipping from her tongue in a carefully constructed way that says she doesn't care who hears it. "You either become a scapegoat for whatever happens with Stray Kids, or you throw yourself to the wolves of the industry. Solo debut would be much kinder."

"But if you stay," Minseo tacks onto the end, "we get to hang out every day still."

"If you stay," Hayoon interrupts, "you debut in a company you trust and a group known for doing their own thing and protecting each other. If you're going to be added to any group, they're definitely one of the better options."

"Their leader was in the meeting," you say suddenly, your eyes turning to the polished wood of the floor. "He didn't seem very happy about the idea."

"Bang Chan sunbaenim?" Minseo says. "He's really nice though."

"How would you know that?" Hayoon asks. 

Minseo throws a hand up, defensive. "I just see him around, I don't know. Everyone knows Stray Kids are nice guys."

"Nice or not, he was pretty vocal about not wanting a new member in his group," you sigh. 

Hayoon falls silent, apparently without a rebuttal to this statement. "He'll just have to get over it then," Minseo says, elbowing you gently. "What's he going to do, ice you out? He could lose his whole group doing that."

"You're very rude," Hayoon says, leaning forward to look at Minseo. "I don't know what the best decision is. Stay or go, it's a risk either way. You don't know what kind of group you'll end up in with another company either."

"And they want an answer by tomorrow," you add dejectedly.

Minseo pats your arm, Hayoon a quiet, grounding weight on the other side. "You'll make the right choice," she says. "You're way smarter than me, and way better at singing - if I'm going to be mega-famous, you're going to be there quicker."

Despite yourself, a small smile quirks in the corner of your mouth. "But not better at dancing?"

Minseo laughs, open-mouthed and mocking. "No way," she replies. "You'll never be better at dancing than me. Nice try."

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @keepswingin

[aaizawashouta]

Devil in Disguise

pairing: frat!naruto x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k

summary: why hide your demons when all naruto wants to do is play with them? (Modern au)

warnings: smut (18+ minors dni) fingering, slight overstimulation, oral (f receiving), p in v, cream pie a fight, slight mention of blood

a/n: happy halloween! This is ALL I’ve been able to think about.

Fraternities are the worst. It’s loud. There’s too many people, and you’re burning up in the white turtleneck bodysuit that Ino and Sakura bullied you into. This party had not been on your list of activities for the day. You went to work, being miserable on your feet for ten hours only to come home smelling like greasy food and french fries to find your roommates ready for an attack. All you wanted to do was sit on the couch in your pajamas watching some stupid ghost hunting show while handing out candy.

But when do you ever get what you want?

Sighing in irritation, you adjust the white wings that rest against your back. The headband holding up the halo above your head was digging into the space behind your ears. You only stop fidgeting with it when Sakura shoots daggers at you. Smoothing down the white sweater, you try your best to get comfortable. But it’s hard when you can’t breathe. The air is thick and hazy despite the back doors being open. The sound of laughter and yelling can be heard over the blaring music. Whoever they put as dj needs to be fired.

“Come on, slowpoke.” Ino threw over her shoulder.

You glare at her back, following the two through the crowd. A sharp glare slicing through the idiot dressed in a toga when he bumps into you. Fuck, parties suck. Sakura forges a path that leads straight to the living room. All the furniture is cleared out except where they’re playing beer pong. You bite back a groan when Kiba spots you. Even from a few feet away you can see his eyes light up.

You raise a hand before he can say anything. “I need a drink.”

He bears his teeth in a sharp grin. “Kitchen is that way, babe.”

“How chivalrous of you,” you mumble.

Of fucking course you’d have to make your way through a crowd of people to get to the kitchen. Heat runs up your neck as irritation settles over you. There’s no subtlety—you’re plowing elbows and knocking drinks out of people’s hands. There’s a multitude of names being tossed at your back, not that you care. An hour, that’s it. One game of pong to appease Kiba and you’re out of here. You came, you saw, you conquered your roommates. Halloween over.

Nothing is ever simple.

The kitchen is almost empty. Gaara and Kankuro stand next to the refreshments. You smile, knowing that they’re on guard. That’s something you actually like about this particular fraternity. They may all be dumb meatheads, but they set clear boundaries. It stems from their president, Naruto, you know. He’s a good guy, can rival the energizer bunny and is pure, honest sunshine. You can see him standing just behind the two brothers. Blue eyes taking in the party around him.

You don’t see him until he’s already on you. Empty solo cup in hand, you turn to run into a firm chest. Your brows furrow, a scowl taking up your face as you peer up that guy blocking you from everyone else. His eyes are glazed, glassy and bloodshot. He’s wearing an easy smile, but you don’t miss the bite to it. He thinks he’s a predator, and he thinks you’re an easy prey. Yeah, fucking right.

“Can I help you?”

“What drink you looking for?”

Your gaze narrows. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”

“C’mon, sugar. Don’t be like that. L’me get you a drink.” He runs a finger down the side of your face before you’re smacking it away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

He takes two steps forward, crowding you into the corner. Your eyes flash around him, briefly. Gaara and Kankuro are watching you closely. They know better than to interfere, you know how to handle yourself around drunk idiots who think they can fucking do what they want. When rough, clammy hands wrap around your arm and yank you forward, you almost lose your footing. You would have, if it hadn’t been for the blond stepping in front of you.

Easily Naruto pulls the unwanted grasp off of you, pushing him forward to give you enough room to escape. Your heart thundered in your ears. You stayed right there, right behind your savior.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The blond all but snarls.

“Nothing, man. Just talking to the pretty girl.”

“Just talking, huh? Is that why you felt the need to put your hands on her? Backed her up into a corner after she told you to stop touching her?”

“I—“

He pushes the guy, making him stumble. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

It’s like a scene from a movie, moving in slow motion. You see the drunkard's face turn into pure rage, fist flying towards Naruto. He lands a punch, a solid one. A large gash splitting open on his right cheek. It starts weeping blood as you gasp. The guy swings again, Naruto dodges it, right hand grabbing it, twisting the guy’s arm before sending a first of his own. You hear the telltale crack of fist against bone as the guy falls to the floor.

“Kankuro.” He barks, getting the brunet’s attention. “Drag the fucker outside.” His voice is low and rough, and fuck if it doesn’t scream dangerous. And you’d hate to admit that it does something to you, that low voice and the blood on his knuckles and the way he stands in front of you.

You swallow thickly, watching the creep get literally dragged outside. Your gaze moves slowly from the unconscious man on the floor to the one who’s stood in front of you. His piercing blue gaze burns into you as you lift your hand and wipe away the blood that’s splattered on your cheek. That’s new. His gaze is so earnest, full of concern and slightly ticked off. The indent between his brows gives it away. Without thinking you reach out and rub it away.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “I know. Didn’t feel right just watching, though.”

“I’m a big girl. I could’ve handled it.”

His eyes take you in from your head to your toes. You’re more covered than most of the girls here. With the way he’s looking at you, you feel damn near naked. “Oh, I know.” He stares a moment more, hands flexing at his side like he still wants to hit the bastard.

“You going to clean that?”

“I’m alright.”

You only hum. “Come on.”

You grab the unclenched hand and pull him along behind you. He’s letting you lead him up the stairs with certainty that you know which room is his. You only know Kiba’s and that’s because you’re here tutoring him three times a week. A small tug gets you moving, Naruto now in the lead. It’s only now that you take notice of his costume, causing you to snort. His blonde hair is down, shaggy, missing its signature bandana. A brown fur piece is wrapped over one shoulder and pinned at his waist. Fucking George of the Jungle saved you in the kitchen.

Naruto leads you down the hallway, second door on the left. You watch as he pulls out a set of keys from a hidden pocket. His mouth twitches when he hears you huff out a laugh. You don't have much time to look around his room as he leads you into the connected bathroom, but the one thing you can't miss are the stacks of comic books on every open surface — his nightstand, his desk, the dresser, the floor near his open closet. You’re tempted to slow down and inspect them, to see what kind of comics Naruto Uzumaki spends his time reading, but when you look up to see him narrowing his eyes as if he's genuinely light-headed, you forget all about the books and follow him into the bathroom.

It's cleaner than you expect for a college guy, and when you close the toilet seat cover and point for him to take a seat, he doesn't argue. You drop down to your knees and open the cabinet under the sink. The peroxide and gauze pads are sitting in a basket full of first aid supplies at the very front. You grab everything you need before standing back up and organizing them on the counter beside the toilet.

"So," he says, wiping his palms on his jeans as you wash my hands. "Is it everyday that you play nurse?"

You bite back a smile as you dry your hands with a towel and turn to him. "No, not normally. I’m not usually caught as a damsel in distress." You tease, picking up a gauze pad and dousing it with peroxide.

He watches you turn toward him, and he opens his legs even more, inviting you to step up between them to get closer. You hesitate before taking a step forward, leaving a harmless amount of space between your bodies as you start to clean his face. When you realize that your arms aren't long enough to clean his wound properly from this far away, you huff, fighting the urge to roll your eyes before you take another step forward until you're positioned between his open legs. He keeps his hands on his thighs and tilts his head back to give you better access, but you don't miss the near smile on his lips.

"Fuck." He jolts back when you press the peroxide-soaked gauze to his gash.

"I'm sorry." You wince. "I'll be gentle. I'm really sorry. I just — I have to clean it."

His eyes are still screwed shut in pain, his jaw tensing as he inhales slowly. It must be deeper than it looks. You can practically feel the pain radiating from him as he takes a deep breath through his nose.

"What, uh," you speak quickly, trying to distract him. "What did— what did you mean earlier when you said ‘I know’."

His jaw tenses again, but he opens his eyes and looks up at you for a long moment before he sighs. His gaze flicks down to the gauze in your hand before closing his eyes again, as if he's preparing himself for the pain, and then he leans forward and nods for you to continue.

"Well," he says, taking the time to think about his words. His voice is deep and throaty, and you have to keep yourself focused so you don't spiral and think about all the different ways he could use his voice. Like moaning your name. Your thighs slightly rub together at the thought alone.

"Mhm," you encourage, brushing the gauze across his cheek, cleaning away the blood from everywhere but the actual wound, too nervous to hurt him again.

"Just that," he states, only this time the tension in his voice is gone. "I see you. I see you, angel." His lips quirk up, and you can see the edge of his gash open a little more when his cheek twitches. “That costume ain’t fooling anybody.”

Most of the bleeding has slowed, and you bring your hand up and place it on his cheek, rubbing your thumb lightly to relax the muscle there so he won't open his wound any further. When you glance away from the bloody injury to his ocean eyes, you finally register what it is he said.

Your face shifts. Brows furrowing, nose scrunched up in annoyance. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You’re trying to focus on cleaning the blood around the gash without hurting him, but honestly, it's hard when your temper is starting to flare.

"Yeah, there you are," Naruto laughs, his brows raise slightly, but you ignore him as you toss the blood-soaked pad into the trash and grab a new one. "You’re not fooling anyone, are you baby?"

You sigh, holding the pad tightly in your grasp. Even with him sitting on the toilet seat he’s still a head taller than you. Looking down, you grimace when you see your outfit. You blend in more now that you did when you first got here. A final girl, moment. That drunken idiot had spit out blood and it got all over you. So much for being an angel in white.

“I can fix that, if you want.” Your eyes flash to his, but his gaze is lingering on the white bodysuit.

“I’m not done.”

“It’ll heal.”

He’s up and out of the bathroom before you could blink. You follow behind him, eyes darting around his room, but they keep coming back to watch as his muscles move and ripple with every step he takes. God, this cannot be happening to you. Not a frat bro. Not the fucking president of the stupid fraternity. What the hell is wrong with you? But it’s too late. Much too late. Because this idiot, this sunshine personified, he already fucking owns you—and he knows it. A lump forms in your throat, your body plopping itself on the edge of his bed, fingers toying with the edge of the black comforter.

“Here.” You jump at the sound of his voice, making a blond eyebrow raise.

“Thanks.”

He watches you fiddle with the shirt he handed over. It’ll swallow you whole. A dress in its own right. A hand wraps lightly around your throat, Naruto grins at the sparkle in your eye. His voice drops lower, making heat throb in between your legs. “Kinda pointless to put my shirt on when I’m going to have you naked spread out on my bed, huh angel?”

“Yeah, probably. Kinda was thinking I wanted to ride your face first, though.”

“God dammit, angel. You can’t just say things like that.”

“Come on, Naru,” you whisper, standing up to bring your face closer to his. “Bet you can make me cry with your tongue.”

“Fuck,” he mutters.

There is no preamble. There are no sweet nothings. Your skirt is yanked off, hot kisses pressed to the inside of your thighs. Moans are pulled roughly from you when he begins to suck, leaving his mark on you. Your knees rest on either side of his head. Clothed center rutting up trying to find friction. You ache, you burn. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“This won’t be sweet,” Naruto breathes against your core, hands gripping you to hold your legs wide open, you hear the flick of his pocket knife, the one you know resides on his night stand, and fuck, you know what he’s about to do. You aren’t even angry that he’s going to destroy your clothes. Whatever gets you out of this stupid costume. “This won’t be gentle.”

The blade cuts through the fabric and you whimper.

“I know, Natu. I don’t want it gentle.”

“Think you can handle it?”

You pull his blond locks, making him groan. “Yeah, baby. I’m certain I can.”

His fingers dig into your thighs before trailing towards your core. He groans, feeling how slick you are. Curses fall from his lips, his finger running up and down your seam. Back and forth, back and forth before he shoves a finger inside you. It’s not enough. You want so much more. Need it. Your Naruto, your boyish, chaotic and mean sunshine boy knows exactly what you need. Pulling his finger out only to shove three in, you keen, hands running up his neck and into hair. Your hips are moving on their own, fucking yourself on his hand. He curves his fingers, reaching up in a ‘come here’ motion, and your thighs begin to shake. Speeding up his hand even more, Naruto starts to flick his tongue over the sensitive nub. His grasp on your thighs holds you down so you’d stop running away from him. His grip is so tight you know you’ll have bruises later. He can feel you quivering, you’re so close, but he isn’t quite done with you yet.

Pulling his hand out of you, he immediately smacks your pussy. Your hips rut up trying to chase the pleasure. He smacks it again before rubbing at your clit. You’re almost screaming from the pleasure. Hands knotted in the sheets, hips canting in the air.

“You’re sensitive tonight,”

You glare at him. “‘I wonder why.”

He laughs. “This is my fault?”

“Yeah, Naruto. It was your damn idea! A celibate angel. What a joke.”

You see the flash of his smile before his lips are crashing against yours. He’s ripping off his costume, throwing it behind him as he springs himself free. Your breath catches as you stare down at him. He’s leaking, hard, and throbbing. You pull yourself up onto your elbows as head tilting to look at him. His pupils are blown, black encompassed by a tight blue ring. It’s hot in the room, sweat slicking up every inch of available skin. You run a thumb over the tip, smearing the precum. Your nails nip at his skin and he shivers.

“Nah, all I got is a horny goddamn brat.” He says with a sharp grin.

“Watch it.”

“That’s not how we get what we want is it?” His voice is thick with want, but you can hear the underlying tone.

Pushing yourself up, you're quick to flip your positions. You hover over him, slowly running your soaked folds across him. He hisses at the feeling, sharp eyes glued to where you’re teasing him.

“If you wanted someone compliant, you came barking up the wrong tree.”

Slowly you sink down onto him. He’s almost too big. The head of his cock snags at your entrance, forcing you to start over. You breathe in nice and slow, working yourself slowly until you’re at the hilt.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses with a sharp buck, you had given him permission and he’s taking it, demanding more–needing more the second he feels the tight velvet of your sex.

“Naruto,” you whine, forehead resting against his.

He nods. He knows. He knows you need this as much as he does. You're clinging to him, hands tugging at his hair, cunt clenching around him like he’d slip free at any moment. His thrusts are slow, building a slow burn inside of you. Your toes curl because it’s just the beginning. You draw back, hips moving in a smooth tempo. You hit a good rhythm, letting yourself breathe, relax, and suck him in deeper. You’re almost where he wants you. He meets your gaze and his eyes hold something akin to mischief. You clench around him and he groans. He thrusts up a little harder than before, causing your head to fall back.

“Eyes on me,” You whimper and lift your head. “There you are, my pretty girl.”

You watch each other, a breath apart as you circle your hips and ride him nice and slow. You’re waiting for him to break. Any minute now. You go from circling your hips to lifting yourself up and down. He muffles out curses, hands gripping your hips to help you set a pace. It’s not a nice one. You flex your cunt, lower muscles bearing down as you grip him. He groans, the sound booming in the tight small space.

There’s pleasure coiling behind your pussy. “Naruto, fuck,”

“What do you need, angel?”

“Fuck me,” You whine, pulling on his hair. “Please, baby, please. I need it, need you.”

His gaze drops from your face to where he’s burying himself in your tight cunt. He nods before lifting his eyes. “Stay with me. Ready?”

You flash him a grin and he jolts, his cock twitching deep. You cling to him, desperate and a little dizzy. Your knuckles turn white with each rough, hard thrust. He slides a hand up your stomach, between your breasts so his hand can wrap itself around your throat. He loves to watch you come undone around him, and he’ll never let you forget it either. Your cheeks are flushed, pupils blown with lust, and lips parted as each of your clipped breaths turn into whimpers. He’s so big and you’re so fucking full. He fills you to the brim, cock dragging against your falls. You love every minute of it.

He hasn’t started yet. Not really, but your orgasm takes you by surprise. The course graze of his hairs against your clit. You lurch against him as a whimper escapes. You melt, boneless, like jelly. You’re loose and wet and fucking perfect. His nose presses into your cheek as he grinds into you.

“I love the way you feel when you’re coming on my cock.”

You snort, pulling yourself closer to him. Guttural grunts and low growls meet your ear. It’s a brutal taking, and you are not wet enough. Tears pool in your eyes, threatening to fall with every harsh thrust. You take what you're given, no complaints. You feel him firmly plant his feet, delivering a sharper thrust that has your head hitting the headboard. He mumbles a shitty apology (clearly not sorry at all) but his grasp on your waist is unforgivable. You’re bouncing on his cock now, meeting his every thrust. He’s deep, so deep you’re surprised you can’t taste him. You pull his hair, grinning when he hisses.

“You gonna come for me again, angel?”

Naruto knows you can’t talk. He knows you’re fucked out, gone stupid on his cock. He loves when you get like this, even better when you ask for it. You shift, opening up your legs a little wider. He groans feeling himself sink deeper into you. You’re swollen and raw and you’re living for it. Nodding, his name falls from your lips, breathless–he’s your only savior.

It builds and builds and builds until it has nowhere to go. It roars forward, jolting you, a scream ripped from your throat and your nails digging into him so hard you can feel when he starts to bleed. Naruto is right there. He holds you into place, stubble grazing your cheek. He fucks you through it, jamming himself into your searing overstimulated sex, he meets his end. His grip tightens, a low gravel filled groan comes from deep in his chest, filling you up. Shuddering he falls back against the bed, gasping for air.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, breaking the silence.

You fall forward, hugging him tightly to you. You hadn’t realized how much you’ve been missing him until you were drunk off of him. You’re aching and sore but you refuse to move away from him. His eyes are still dark and heavy-lidded as he regards you.

“Keep me in there,” he reminds you.

“Mhm.” You hum, scratching his head with your nails. “Missed you.”

“I’m right here, angel.”

“I know, still. You haven’t been inside me in almost a month.” You lightly run a finger over his brow making sure not to touch the gash along his cheek.

“Apart from my birthday.” His words make you grin. “You’re right though, it’s been a shitty month.”

You laugh, lifting your head to kiss him. Both of you jump when someone bangs against the door of his room. You press yourself tighter against Naruto.

“If you guys are done fucking, I’d like to win a game of beer pong.”

Your eyes widen. Kiba. Naruto laughs and pulls his shirt down over your head. You adjust yourself the best you can, watching Naruto as he stands to put his costume back on. He looks back at you, sunshine pouring out of his smile.

“What am I supposed to tell people I’m dressed as now?” You ask, wrapping your arms around him.

“Mine, angel. You’re a mean, nasty brat and you’re mine.”

[sentientgolfball]

We've all seen the Swissdew clip yea? Yea. That's all this is

18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1568

Tags: hair pulling...so much hair pulling, semi-public, rough Swiss and pissed off Dew

“What the fuck was that?!”

“Huh?”

Dew had practically run off stage after bows and straight to the dressing room. He threw off his mask glaring at Swiss who just walked in with a smug little smile. 

“Don’t fucking ‘huh’ me you exactly what you did.” 

“Why don’t you be more specific” he throws off his own mask walking closer to Dew “I do a lot of things.”

He growls the best he can through the glamour as Swiss stops right in front of him, staring down at him with that same shit-eating grin and a challenge in his eyes. He knows the multi ghoul just wants to hear him say it. Say how much he bothered him after his stunt. How much he wanted, needed him to finish what he started. But Dew would be damned if he gave in so easily. 

“You ruined my solo asshole.” 

“Ruined? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think you sounded perfect.” 

“You” he pauses and groans in frustration glaring daggers at Swiss. If looks could kill he’d be a dead man “you’ve been spending too much fucking time with your attention whore of a boyfriend. Fucking coming over to steal my spotlight.” 

The grin falls from Swiss’ face and Dew realizes a moment too late that bringing Phantom up probably wasn’t the smartest decision. He shoots his hand forward grabbing and palming at Dew through his pants. 

“I don’t know, seems to me like you enjoyed it.” 

He was fully hard. Had been since Swiss came over on stage and wrapped his gigantic hands around his hip and just barely touched him in front of the crowd. He played just fine the rest of the show, but he couldn’t stop thinking about this moment right here. Getting him alone and letting him make good on his promise. But Dew would always fight until he had nothing left, it was part of the fun.

Swiss applies more pressure against him and Dew has to faux scoff to hide the groan that threatened to spill. The multi ghoul reaches around to grab the end of Dew’s braided hair and pulls hard forcing him to meet his eyes. 

“Say it.” 

“Fuck you.” 

He removes his hand from Dew’s dick and pulls him away from the vanity by the hair before flipping him around and slamming him into it, forcing him to bend over. His feet just barely touching the ground as Swiss presses his thickening cock against his ass. 

“I think what you mean is ‘fuck me’.” 

He snakes his hand under Dew and fumbles with the button before pulling his pants down letting them pool at his ankles. He pulls hard on the braid forcing Dew to look at him in the mirror. The grin returns to Swiss’ face when he hears him groan, but it’s more predatory than before. 

“You’re a fucking prick.” 

“I know I’m just so evil for making you wait. Next time I’ll just fuck you in front of everyone” he ruts against Dew’s ass making him suck in a shaky breath “but you’d like that wouldn’t you?” 

Swiss removes his hand from Dew’s hip to undo his belt and zipper just enough to pull himself out of his boxers. He’s fully hard now with pre already starting to pool at the tip. He forces Dew’s legs apart with his knee before bringing his fingers to the fire ghouls mouth. When he doesn’t immediately open Swiss yanks his braid hard and shoves them in when his mouth falls open involuntarily. 

Oh Dew wishes he didn’t have his glamour so he could bite those pretty little fingers right off. But he’s helpless as Swiss pets his tongue and shoves them as far as they can go down his throat. Dew accidentally catches his own eye in the mirror and the sight pulls a moan from him, muffled around the thick fingers working in his mouth. Swiss abruptly pulls his fingers from Dew’s mouth causing drool to dribble down his chin. The multi ghoul slides his hand over his dick smearing his pre and Dew’s spit all over himself. He wipes the excess on Dew’s thigh before using his knee to push the fire ghoul’s legs further apart. 

He slowly brings the head of his cock to Dew’s ass. He glares at Swiss through the mirror. 

“You’re not even going to give me a finger or your tongue first?”

“Nah. You couldn’t be nice about it so neither am I.” 

“Nice? You’re not nice you fucking hypocrite you—“ his words are cut off as Swiss shoves himself in and Dew can’t help but scream. He braces on the vanity as Swiss gives him little time to adjust before he starts pounding into him. He throws his head forward, biting down on his lip so hard he can taste blood. 

“Don’t think so.” Swiss huffs before yanking his braid with so much force his head snaps back. He knows what Swiss is trying to do and he knows damn well if he gives in it’ll be over for him. He screws his eyes shut as he drapes himself over his back and licks his ear. 

“Open your eyes firecracker.”

He tries to spit out a ‘no’ or a ‘fuck you’ but all that comes out of his mouth is a gut punched groan when Swiss slams into him. 

“Open your fucking eyes or I’ll leave you like this.” Normally Dew wouldn’t give into his empty threats, but he couldn’t think with the constant burning stretch of Swiss’ cock shoving deeper and harder into his ass. Swiss yanks on the braid once and it’s all Dew needs to snap his eyes open. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the sight of Swiss towering over him, hands bracketed around him clutching the vanity so hard his knuckles are white. Himself covered in his own drool and tears and looking absolutely fucked out. When did he start crying? When did his face get so red? His eyes lock with Swiss’ and the look in eyes makes him moan. 

“Swiss.”

“Ready to behave?” 

“Please I fucking need it.”

“Need what? I wanna hear you say it.” 

He hesitates a moment too long and Swiss responds by giving him a hard thrust. 

“Say it.” 

“Fucking please I need your hand. I need you right fucking now.” 

Swiss grins at him in the mirror before bringing one hand down to wrap around his dick. Dew practically keens at the touch. He presses hard into the head before making a fist and jacking him just a bit too harshly. 

“Wasn’t so hard to ask for what you wanted was it?” 

He begins thrusting into his ass again in time with the hand gliding over Dew’s dick pulling high pitched moans from the fire ghoul. His head slumps forward but Swiss doesn’t pull him up this time, instead he leans in close and whispers. 

“Too hard to look at yourself? Don’t wanna face how much of a whore you are? Letting me fuck you in the dressing room.” 

He nods rapidly with a pathetic whimper feeling his orgasm building deep within him. 

“Bet you’d rather have someone else watching instead.” 

He nods again rutting as best as he can into Swiss’ fist as he fucks him and squeezes his cock. 

He snickers, “It’s a good thing I left the door unlocked.” 

Dew cums hot and heavy into Swiss’ hand with a loud moan that can definitely be heard through the walls of the little room. Swiss bites his shoulder through the fabric of his uniform shirt as the fire ghoul clenches hard around him. It only takes a few more thrust before he’s spilling into Dew’s ass, muffling his moan with a mouthful of shirt. 

He takes a moment to catch his breath before pulling out of Dew. He grins watching his cum drip out of him. 

“You can get off me now.” Dew says with his head still pitched forward and down, chest heaving and breathless. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

Swiss brings his hand to Dew’s mouth and waits. Dew doesn’t resist this time, he opens immediately, licking and sucking his own cum off of his fingers.

“Good boy.” He says wiping the spit off on his thigh, giving his ass a little smack before moving off of him to tuck himself back into his pants. 

“Don’t fucking treat me like your little pet.” Dew bends down to pull his pants back up. 

Swiss opens his mouth to reply but is stopped by a knock at the door

“Swiss? Dew? Are you two in there, the bus is here, we're ready to go!” Phantom’s voice calls out. 

The multi ghoul looks at Dew cracking a wide smile “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” 

The fire ghoul shoots him a warning snatching up his helmet and storming out of the door causing Phantom to yelp. The quintessence ghoul pokes his head in looking at Swiss. 

“What’s up with him?” 

“He’s just pissed. You know how he is, everything’s gotta be perfect on show nights.” 

Phantom nods sagely at his words before speaking “You should cum in him that always makes him feel better.” 

Swiss wraps his arm around his shoulders and starts walking with him to the bus. “You know that’s a good idea, maybe I’ll try that later.” 

[hughesluv]

Jealousy | Jamie Drysdale

jamie drysdale x fem! reader jealous feelings arise in jamie when a bold man tries to flirt with you at a party. (words: 1.0k)

request: can you do prompts 10 and 12 with Jamie?

a/n: thank you for the request anon! kinda hate this but it took a little bit to write so i wanted to post! i hope everyone is having a good day ilysm <3

As you and Jamie stepped into the vibrant party, the lively music enveloped you both, filling the air with an infectious energy. You were hand in hand, smiling and enjoying each other's company, completely absorbed in your own little world. The room was abuzz with laughter, conversations, and the clinking of glasses.

Tonight was Trevor’s birthday. He told everyone he was going ‘casual’ this year for his birthday bash, only inviting a few friends; however, everyone saw right through him. He thinks of every excuse he can to throw a rager. He once told you that red solo cups, slurred words, and excessively loud music brought him comfort… You just laughed and nodded in reply.

As you made your way through the crowd, you couldn't help but notice a stranger's lingering gaze upon you. A handsome individual, he seemed captivated by your presence, attempting to catch your eye. You glanced at Jamie, wondering if he had noticed as well. The daggers he was shooting the man seemed to have answered your question.

“Why is he staring at you like that?” Jamie mutters as jealousy consumes him. “Does he not know we’re together?” Jamie, usually composed and easygoing, furrowed his brows, a flicker of unease crossing his face. He glared in the direction of the stranger, watching his subtle attempts to engage your attention.

“I don’t know but he’s gawking at me so much it’s almost embarrassing.” You giggle, attempting to lighten up the situation.

With a mixture of protectiveness and possessiveness, Jamie tightened his grip on your hand. He cleared his throat, responding in a slightly defensive tone, “He’s just being an asshole.”

A small grin tugged at the corners of your mouth as you realized his subtle vulnerability. The realization that Jamie, your ever-confident partner, was feeling a twinge of jealousy caused entertainment to sparkle in your eyes.

“Wait a minute, are you jealous?” You question with a playful grin. “Is my Jamie jealous?” You teased once again. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, biting back a smile. He rolled his eyes in response.

“And what would I be jealous of exactly?” He feigned innocence, placing his hand on your waist and pulling you closer. You giggled, resting your hand on his chest. “Because I’m definitely not jealous of the 5’9 douchebag over there.”

A smug smirk danced around your lips. The edge in Jamie’s tone confirmed your thoughts, “I don’t know, Drysdale, it seems like you were.” He stifled out a laugh in response before pulling your face close to his and capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The kiss was fiery, a melding of lips, tongues, and desires. You moaned against his lips as his hand snuck lower down your back and gave a small squeeze to your ass.

“Jeez, get a room,” Trevor snickered from behind you. You pulled away from Jamie, sending Trevor a glare. “Hey, you can’t be mean to me, Y/N/N, it’s my birthday!” He put his hands up in defense.

“I can do whatever I want! This is a free country.” You retorted playfully. He opened his mouth to fire something back in response, but you interrupted, “Joking! Happy birthday, Trev.”

After saying his thank you’s, Trevor began talking to Jamie about various topics. You stood silently next to them, laughing at some of their comments, and enjoying Jamie’s presence.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the stranger from before approaching you. He wore a charming smile as confidence radiated off of him. The stranger approached, making his way through the crowd with deliberate steps. You exchanged a quick glance with Jamie, wondering if he noticed the newcomer's advances. Jamie- who was too engaged in Trevor’s story- didn’t seem to notice.

As the stranger reached your side, he mustered a confident greeting, his words laced with charm. “Hi, I’m Jake. May I say, you look beautiful.” You remained polite, but your loyalty to Jamie was unwavering. Jamie's gaze, once carefree and relaxed, sharpened with a sudden intensity as he registered the subtle intrusion.

“I'm Y/N/N, and thank you.” You replied, sending him a small smile. As he continued to flirt with you, your sentences were short and cold, hoping he’d get the hint but he didn’t.

A flicker of possessiveness and protectiveness flashed across Jamie's face. He tightened his grip around your waist, subtly asserting his presence and staking his claim. Sensing Jamie's unease, you glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his in silent understanding.

Jamie excused himself from the conversation with Trevor and turned to Jake. With a touch of defiance, Jamie firmly responded to the stranger's advances, his voice carrying an underlying edge. "She’s taken, buddy. Back off," he said, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Jake’s eyes flickered between you and Jamie, “And you’re her boyfriend?” He scoffed, stifling out a laugh. Your mouth fell agape at his words.

“Yeah, he is my boyfriend and he’s perfect. He’s not a pathetic little boy like you who goes around trying to latch onto taken women like a leech.” You snap, hurtful words flying off your tongue like nothing. The second he began disrespecting Jamie, it was like something had snapped inside of you.

A mix of surprise and frustration flickered across Jake’s face, but he eventually backed away. As he retreated into the crowd, Jamie's protective stance relaxed slightly, though the fire in his eyes remained.

“I love you so much, baby,” Jamie gushed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I love you more.”

You leaned into Jamie, the familiar scent of his cologne soothing your senses. He wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer, a silent reassurance that he would always be there to shield you from any unwanted advances. The pulsating music faded into the background as you found comfort in each other's embrace.

[dailydragon08]

Darkness Calls

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader   Summary: As the call of space nearly consumes you, Luke reaches for powers forbidden to a Jedi to keep you safe and deals with the consequences. Warnings: reader gets a leg injury that is briefly mentioned, angst, canon-typical violence, reader almost gets sucked into space, Luke feeling lots of guilt and inner turmoil, mentions of Luke having insomnia and nightmares/PTSD, slow burn/mutual pining. A/N:  Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Stay tuned for part 2 and enjoy!

**

Blaster fire made an impenetrable web through the ship’s wide, X-shaped hallways and it had become impossible to determine which shot belonged to which side. Even armed with the Force and your lightsabers, you, Luke, and the other rebels were hopelessly outnumbered. Your teams had been so close to gaining control of the imperial cruiser’s bridge, which would’ve made capturing the necessary plans much easier. But you’d been overrun with reinforcements at the last second via the porthole at the end of the main thoroughfare. Han and Leia had led their team down a hallway to your left twenty minutes ago, yelling something about the hangar and the dropship docked at the porthole that was hard to discern over all the commotion. 

You glanced at Luke across the hall, his blue eyes wide and chest heaving as he caught his breath. His flesh hand gripped the hilt of his green saber so hard, you could see his knuckles turning white. Closing your eyes, you sank into the Force to sense precisely how many Stormtroopers flooded the hallway in between and could feel your fellow Jedi doing the same. 

On three, he sent to you through the Force. One…two…

“Three,” you whispered before the two of you jumped into the fray as one, doing your best to block the onslaught from the imperial’s blasters. The best you could hope for at this point was to deflect their own shots back at them and dwindle their numbers. The path to the bridge had been thoroughly blocked and Han and Leia either needed to get their asses in gear, or a path needed to be cleared for R2 to work his magic without being fried. 

Just as you thought you were getting somewhere, loud footsteps crashed in the distance and a wave of Dark Troopers picked up the slack. 

“There are too many!” Luke cried, motioning to the teams behind him who were desperately trying to provide cover. “Fall back—”

As if fate itself was pranking you, the blast doors suddenly closed off the left and right hallways to trap your peers. You and Luke stepped forward so they could file down the hallway directly behind you, providing as much cover as you could while several rebels traded off shooting the enemy and making a run for it. 

Suddenly, C3PO and R2 came scurrying towards you from behind. “Oh, Master Luke!” the protocol droid cried, his hands waving frantically up near his face. 

“Not now, 3PO!” he growled. “Head back with the others!” R2 whizzed ahead of his companion. “R2, no—”

“But Princess Leia and Captain Solo said to clear the—”

Before he could finish, the blast doors directly behind you slammed shut just as R2 passed the threshold. You cursed. “What now? They’ve pinned us in!”

Luke shot you a worried look. “I don’t know. They’re jamming our comms, too. I can’t get a hold of Han or Leia.”

A sudden mechanical buzzing from R2 caught your attention long enough to make you clumsy. You cried out in pain as a shot seared your leg and stumbled back a few steps, falling right on the astromech’s dome. 

R2 tittered in concern just as Luke stepped in front of you. “Get behind me!”

“I am behind you,” you grumbled, quickly realizing that R2 hadn’t budged at all when you’d fallen into him, which could only mean one thing: his feet were magnetized. 3PO’s message of Han and Leia wanting you to clear something rang through your head…

Oh. Oh no. 

“LUKE!”

But you’d made the realization too late. The magnetic shield separating the porthole from the rest of the ship went dead with a flicker of blue light and a whirl as you realized the imperials hadn’t boxed you in—Han and Leia had boxed you out. Or, at least, tried to. 

“Get back!” you screeched at the remaining rebels, motioning towards the meager available space in the hallways to your left and right. Just as they dove for cover, the dropship at the end of the hall ripped away from the port hole, violently shaking the ship and making you lose your footing before you could finish regaining it. 

The deafening whoosh of wind entered the corridor as the Dark and Stormtroopers were sucked out the hole now staring straight into space. A few of your comrades who had been too slow went with them just as R2 whipped out a retractable arm to tuck both your and Luke’s lightsabers safely in his compartment. 

Luke let out a cry of surprise as you both went flying towards the exit. He made quick work of grabbing a pipe going up one wall with his flesh hand and grabbing your wrist with the gloved one. 

The force trying to separate the two of you was overwhelming as Luke’s fingers dug into your wrist hard enough to bruise. He alternated between checking that he had a good grip on the pipe and turning terrified eyes to you. As you glanced towards your feet, the yawning hole was almost hypnotic and stole the breath from your lungs. 

“Don’t look down!” Luke shouted over the gale, repeating it in your head through the Force to make sure you heard. “Just focus on me!”

You turned your gaze back to him as he tightened his grip on you even more. You could feel how much he was straining as he used the Force to help pull himself closer to the pipe and could see just how much his perfectly tailored jacket clung to his muscles as they worked—

Really? you said to yourself, hoping Luke hadn’t heard your thoughts. You’re gonna think about that right now?

Just as Luke pulled you closer to the pipe so you could grab it yourself, your wrist slipped from his grasp for just a moment. 

“NO!” he screeched, his voice and face more terrified than you’d ever seen him. Fear flooded you just as you caught his gloved fingers. No matter how dire things seemed, you’d always felt comforted by the fact that Luke was not only with you, but typically the calmer, steadier one. But if the amount of terror and desperation you sense in him was anything to go by, you weren’t sure how you would get out of this one. 

“Please hang on!” Luke said, tilting his head up to scan the rest of the hallway. “R2, where are you?!”

The astromech zipped to and fro, trying different wall sockets to no avail. They must’ve been jammed or the magnetic shield required a specific one he hadn’t found yet. You looked down to barely make out another socket just ahead of the door. “R2, it’s down there—kriff!” 

Luke screamed your name as your hand began to slip from his. He held on tighter, but the smooth leather of his glove just made your hold even more slippery. “Hold on, please!”

Afraid this might be your last chance, you took a moment to memorize the shape of his body, the contours of his face, the way his hand felt in yours, the way his golden-brown hair whipped in the wind, the way his Force signature felt so soothing, calming, and like home against you (even in all its unbridled terror). 

“I need you, please!” he begged in a tone that was so frantic, it felt uncharacteristic of him. You’d never seen him this terrified and felt his Force signature shifting into something heavier—darker—as he called on the Force in whatever way it took to save you. 

“No! Luke, no Dark Side.”

As soon as the words left your mouth and the tone of Luke’s signature began to shift back, the glove suddenly gave way. The darkness beyond had been calling for too long, and you finally had no choice but to answer, ripping the glove off Luke’s cybernetic and flying towards the exit at an incomprehensible speed. Just as you were about to exit the porthole to become one with the stars, you stopped with a sudden jolt. Now, two forces were pulling on your body: the gale dragging you towards infinite nothingness—and the Force, wielded by a powerful Jedi, pulling you back towards safety. 

You groaned against the strain on both sides of your body, watching as R2 hurtled towards you and the socket you were now eye level with. You gasped as you were suddenly ripped up towards the blast doors and shot straight into Luke’s arms. He kept an iron grip on the pipe with one arm and held you tight against his chest with the other. You grabbed the now available pipe to ease his burden while wrapping an arm tightly around his shoulders. He let out a shuddery breath as he buried his face in the juncture of your face and neck and squeezed you hard. His hand carefully migrated down the pipe to wrap his pinky finger around your pointer finger. You could feel him growing tired and the strain in his arm through the Force – and this after he’d already started this mission tired thanks to the sudden surge in his insomnia and nightmares lately. 

“Luke, if it’s too much, you can let me go—”

“No,” he said firmly in your ear. 

“I can hold on—”

“No, I’m not letting you go.”

You relented, squeezing yourself closer to his chest as much as possible with the vacuum of space still trying to rip you both away. You pressed your face into his shoulder and thought he couldn’t possibly hold you tighter, but he did. If you hadn’t been struggling for breath thanks to the current situation, you surely would’ve been from the sheer force of Luke’s embrace. 

Suddenly, everything went still and the pair of you tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Luke fell flat on his back hard just as you smacked right down on his ribs, leaving him gasping for air. With adrenaline pumping and ears ringing, you took his face in your hands out of pure instinct. “Are you okay?!”

He nodded, keeping a firm grip on your hips as his breathing gradually returned to normal. He finally opened his eyes to look at you and you couldn’t help admiring how he looked breathless underneath you with hair in complete disarray—stop that, we almost died, you told yourself. However, any further thoughts came to a halt as Luke pulled you tight against his chest again and pressed his cheek to yours. His breath blew hot and heavy in your ear as one arm snaked around your waist and the other slid up your spine to hold the back of your head. His fingers gently dug into your hair, smoothing back and forth in a way in a way that made you melt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed in his ear, indulging yourself for a moment and hugging him back just as fiercely. Your hand was drawn to the nape of his neck to play with his hair, but before you could remove it and apologize, he sighed and you felt him relax beneath you.

His hand moved to cup the back of your neck, gently massaging the tension there. “Maker, sweetheart…”

You withhold your shock at the term of endearment in case it made him let you go. You weren’t ready to be released from the safety of his arms yet and it seemed neither was he. The only times you’d been this close was when you’d both found each other after nightmares—but that had been when you’d both been in a desperate, sleep-addled state, only half aware of what you were doing. You honestly weren’t even sure how many of those moments he remembered when he woke the next morning. But you would jump back out the porthole before you were the one to shatter the illusion. 

Several frantic voices of the soldiers around you suddenly came into laser-sharp focus and you remembered you weren’t alone. Luke, however, held on as tight as ever, seemingly content to lay here with you for hours. You could sense his relief, but also echoes of terror and some other feeling you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked again. 

Luke’s hand smoothed up and down your back. “Not a scratch, I promise.”

“No, I mean…when you almost…you know…”

You felt sudden, intense feelings of guilt and shame flood his signature and immediately regretted opening your mouth. 

“I—” he cut himself off to let you go, beginning to roll you both so you laid on your sides. You propped yourself up on your elbow, the absence of his warmth leaving goosebumps all over your body. He avoided your eyes to watch R2 quickly roll towards him. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—that was…” He sighed, closed his eyes, and shook his head. 

His embarrassment, shame, and frustration with himself was so palpable through the Force that it felt like a punch to your gut. “Luke, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he whispered. 

“Hey, look at me.” Ignoring how painful the turmoil in his eyes was, you continued, “It happens. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He glanced at R2 as the droid whistled sadly. “We’re all right, R2.” He turned back to you, not quite meeting your eyes, but still giving your hand a firm squeeze. “I’m just…glad you’re safe.”

“Thanks to you.”

He nodded, but you knew he didn’t believe you. He quickly stood, holding out a hand to help you up as one of the rebels ran up to you, asking if the two of you were all right and for further orders, totally oblivious to the way his soul was ripping itself apart inside his chest. 

“R2, get these blast doors open if you can,” Luke said, his voice much flatter than usual. 

The droid zipped by with a morose series of beeps. The blast doors facing the porthole opened first, revealing a waiting 3PO. “Oh, R2 – and Master Luke and Miss Y/N! It’s wonderful to see you’re all right! Now, as I was saying, Princess Leia and Captain Solo told me to tell you to clear the area. They’re going to shut off the magnetic field and pilot the dropship away from the porthole—”

You tried to withhold your laugh. “We kind of got that, 3PO.”

“Oh…” The protocol droid finally glanced down the hall at the carnage and gaping hole in the ship’s side. “Oh, my! R2! You were supposed to tell them!” He gave the astromech a firm kick to the leg as his companion chirped in protest. 

“It’s all right, 3PO, we…made it work.” 

Luke, who was still turned away from you and focused on a random spot on the floor, closed his eyes at your words and sighed quietly. His hand was still in yours and you gave him a gentle squeeze, gently swiping your thumb over the back of his hand. His other hand hung at his side, the charred edges of the blaster hole and the mechanical workings inside on full display with his glove lost to the abyss outside. It felt as if something private was naked, and you took a step closer, determined to save him from any more embarrassment (no matter how unnecessary his current humiliation was). 

“Here,” you said, unzipping your pants pocket and pulling out a pair of standard issue, black leather gloves. “These were always too big for me anyway.” You gently took his cybernetic and pulled the glove over top of it. 

He looked at you with eyes so full of emotion, it nearly cut you in two. He glanced back down at the glove as you adjusted it, pulling his sleeve to inspect the small red initial sewn into the wrist. “Did you do this?”

“Yeah, they told me that was the only pair I’d be getting for a while, so not to lose them. My old bunk mates were famous for stealing each other’s gloves, then claiming they were theirs the whole time, so…” You shrugged. 

“But—”

“Keep it. Please.”

He swallowed hard and nodded, still holding onto your hands tightly with both of his. His gaze was pleading, and he seemed as if he wanted to say something but settled for gently stroking your cheek with the back of his flesh hand in a feather-light touch. He suddenly ripped himself away and stormed down the now open hallway, leaving a trail of guilt, shame, regret, and an unidentifiable burning in his wake. 

**

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Stay tuned for part 2!

Tag list (let me know if you'd like to be added! Sorry if I missed anyone, I'm terrible at remembering handles): @kaleidoscope1967eyes @masterlukessaber @coffeeorsomething-irl @eveningserenityyy @victorian-nymph @lxstfathier @rogue-kenobi @lavandula-ipsum @sonofthedunes @pomplalamoose @lex-the-flex

[bots-and-cons]

The Bots finding out their music loving human friend working together with Raf and utilizes loud and bass heavy music to give Soundwave and the Cons a massive and disorienting helm-ache, all while having a solo rave party as it all happen?

I did all the bots at least I hope I didn’t forget anyone. I did forget about the party part though, sorry

•Jackie was actually helping you and Raf with your little project, because when you asked Ratchet if he wanted in on your “super weapon project” he wasn’t really interested

•Mostly because he thought you weren’t serious about it and you were building a potato gun or something

•Which would be a pretty fun thing to shoot the decepticons with tbh

•When Ratchet sees the three of you working on some kind of a device, he realizes you weren’t kidding

•Optimus doesn’t really encourage weapons experiments either and but you and Jackie assure him it’s not going to blow up

•While he does believe you, he still has a feeling this isn’t going to end well

•And it doesn’t, but the device does catch on fire and almost burns down the table it’s on too

•But it’s okay, because Jackie starts stomping on it and the fire goes out

•Of course then you have to start over

•When the so called super weapon is ready it pretty much looks like a big speaker

•And the smaller ones look pretty innocuous as well

•The smaller ones pretty much work like flash bangs, but it’s a big enough effect to be effective towards the cons

•Arcee is pretty skeptical about them actually working, and while she doesn’t mind Jackie or the other bots using them, she makes damn sure you and the trouble trio keep your hands off them

•They do end up being pretty effective though, but Arcee still doesn’t think humans should handle them, because if one of the flashbang things goes off you’d blind yourself

•Bulk is excited to try them out, because Wheeljack’s weapons are usually top notch

•Magnus thinks those things you built would not pass inspection and shouldn’t be used, since they could cause harm to the team as well

•The noise canon pretty much becomes Smokescreen’s favorite toy, because it’s seriously cool and very useful

•Bee and him tend to argue over who gets to use it, but then Arcee comes and takes it or herself, telling them if they can’t come to an agreement, she’ll use it

•The noise canon and the so called flashbangs cause a lot of mayhem and a serious helm ache for the cons

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'Bad Territory'

As a few people have quickly surmised, the Bad Batch episode in which they go to Space Swampy Badtimes and punch gators was going to send Doug over the edge with joy. Y'all right!

So, turn up the CCR to 'Born on the Bayou', and prepare for some of the more unhinged things Doug's texted me.

CW: Little more mild, just excitement. When Doug starts rambling about Cajun food, just click here. He says it's one of the best places for boudin and bbq and they'll even process a deer you found on the highway.

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

Episode 8: “::happy Cajun noises::”

Well we back in Space Daytona, outside the HMS Search Warrant because Daddy Rambo can’t afford a trailer now. Does that thing have air conditioning? 

Man, Toaster Strudel’s always gone, is he a space trucker now or what.

Oh, man, it’s Church Lady! She don’t seem too upset by Ryan-from-Accounting being somewhere else, fighting the Space Balrog. But we know why she’s not sad. 

(Does this involve Mayday?

"Who?"

Sassy Park Ranger?

"Hell yeah it does! He’s her beau."

What about Ryan-from-Accounting?

"I done told you once I tell you again RYAN-FROM-ACCOUNTING DIDN’T DESERVE THAT SMART INDEPENDENT WOMAN NONE!")

Maybe Daddy Warcrimes will hang out with Church Lady and she can double dip with him and Sassy Park Ranger. It’s Thanksgiving, dark meat and white meat are on the plate.

(WTF?!)

Well you know why Church Lady’s the Church Lady? She’s been talking to other church folks and if there’s one person who knows how to get info on people it’s the church ladies. Seriously, how do you think they organize EVERYTHING and know EVERYONE. You think they go to church for Jesus that’s a bald lie up in here. 

So Julio fires up the stolen work truck and he and Daddy Rambo are off. 

Wait, if that’s their home, where Little Orphan Blondie and Daddy Warcrimes sleeping? The beach? Come on now. 

Aw, shit, man, is that THOTH STATION?! Meat Muffin, these show people reading your white trash love story book and made it into reality! They owe you MONEY GIRL! Think they’ll meet Fred Johnson or Anderson Dawes?!

And look it’s CAMINA DRUMMER! 

Oh wait no that’s that Chick-that’s-in-Everything! Looks like she’s doing business with the guy Han Solo shot in the club. Think she’s selling him Columbian nose candy? 

Well she’s drinking a whole thing of pinot, don’t blame her, I’d be drinking if Daddy Rambo was up in my club whining for names. Go on the Facebook, Daddy Rambo, it’d be easier.

They’re off somewhere else to help the Chick-that’s-in-Everything. OH MY SWEET TITS OF CHRIST THEY IN LOUISIANA AGAIN! IT’S AN OIL REFINERY! No one can breath! They got a PONTOON! Everything’s orange and sticky!

Oh look at them out in them stinky bayous of Terrebonne Parish! Man did they film this entire season in my home state like it’s the first season of True Detective now I wonder. Man that was a good show. 

Aw man, mines in the water! It IS TERREBONNE PARISH! “He won’t expect us,” damn right he won’t. The Chick-Thats-In-Everything sure knows her shit. She’s a redneck hunter and the lady’s got grit. I wonder if she’s caught Steven Segal. 

There better be OH MAN IT IS! 

SPACE GATORS!!!!!

YEAH! PUNCH EM JULIO! SHOOT EM CHICK-THAT’S-IN-EVERYTHING! OH DADDY RAMBO GOT CAUGHT BUT JULIO PUNCHED IT TOO! PUNCHING GATORS AND THROWING KNIVES AND SHOOTING GUNS IN THE BAYOU, MEAT MUFFIN I LOVE THIS DAMN SHOW!!!!!

The only bad thing about this is now I need to go back to Thibodaux to Bourgeois and get some crawfish boudin, maybe some cracklings, some hogshead cheese too. 

Daddy Warcrimes is doing that thing where you sit around and breathe. Jenny tells me to do that. I’m like woman I do that every damn day at work what’s the difference now. 

They’re at the place–it’s a shack in the woods surrounded by home made bombs and the owner’s armed to the teeth?! MEAT MUFFIN THEY GONE DONE AND FILMED IT AT MY COUSIN CLAYTON'S HOUSE IN TERREBONNE PARISH NOW!!!!

Oh man it ain’t my cousin Clayton whose been weird since he got out of Angola,  now they’re hunting Jeff Goldblum from The Fly! Except now he’s a mantis! Hate those things. Jenny set one on fire after she caught it snapping at one of her hummingbirds. That woman, man, you don’t mess with her garden, she’ll take out the hairspray and a lighter and make a torch out of it. Love her. Married two dozen years now.*

Oh! Jeff Goldblum is trying to escape–but the Chick-That’s-In-Everything knows her shit and cuts her own wire to the pontoon! Maybe she IS Camina Drummer after all. 

Oh, man, they done got that mantis son of a bitch. Now, back to Thoth Station, and of course, the Chick-That’s-in-Everything ain’t coughing up a dime. Just flings Daddy Rambo right off her ship. 

Oh, man, who is she calling? 

I hope it’s not Gun-Safety-Muppet, I hate that blue bastard. 

*= Jenny is a delight and really does flip from ‘Sweetie, you need to meditate’ to ‘I will set bugs on fire for threatening my birds’. She’s the one who taught Jimmers to corner and kill everything in their yard.

@skellymom @cdblake1565 @sued134 @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @merkitty49 @eyecandyeoz @isthereanechoinhere96 who else loves Redneck Doug?

If you want to be added, please let me know!

PS- I have his ramblings from the last two episodes, but they were not nearly as deranged as this.

[heartsforsserafim]

hello!! could i request handong smut (you can choose between g!p or no g!p) where reader is on set with handong as they film a mv and everytime there’s a short break, reader teases handong by whispering something in her ear just as she’s about to go back on set or something similar then when handong can’t take it anymore, she fucks reader after filming is over? hopefully that all made sense, english isn’t my first language!:(

love your works btw, keep it up!!

Playing with fire?

pairing ; gp!handong x fem!reader

genre ; smut

tw ; teasing, edging, degrading, praise, slapping, unprotected sex, creampie, doggy style, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, public sex (kind of?)

an - dw anon you did very well with this request, and thank you!

Today was the filming of dreamcatcher's comeback, and you were behind the scenes to support your girlfriend. You saw the girls and waved to them. They also waved back, turning your attention back to dong.

Once her solo shoot was over she came over to you, and hugged you. "I missed you so much!!" She said as she hugged you, "i missed you too baby" you said, hugging her back. You thought of a way to tease handong to get back at her for doing it to you a while back. "You know.." you say, while you're hugging her, whispering, "I want you to fuck me right now, use me like a slut, completely destroy me, i want you to-" "Dongie they need you back there!" Sua said as she came back from her shoot, Handong's face was red, but she kept her composer and went where Sua left from.

"Sua?" "Hm? Yeah Y/nie?" You wanted to have a fill in before handong comes back and everyone else was either getting touch ups or doing their scenes with her so that left you with sua. "Wanna take pics together?" "Oh my gosh?? You're finally out of your shell, hell yeah lets take pics!!" You laughed and took pics with sua, some being funny others being pretty serious. You had a few of you playing in her hair, it lasted until her stylist came back and was concerned if the spray touched your skin or not but you reassured her it didn't.

You went over to where dong was and saw her doing the shoot, each time she made eye contact with you, you'd mouth something to her that'll make her shy. She tried her best to ignore it and wait until they were done shooting but you made it so hard. It was bad enough that you had a skirt on, her favorite one at that. The cropped shirt you had on that hugged your breast perfectly made her have so many thoughts.

After her solo shooting was completed for the day, she grabbed your arm and took you straight to her dressing room. She locked the door, and turned around to you, her eyes filled with lust. She didn't say anything and just attacked your lips, she knew how loud you could be, so she removed her jacket and wrapped it around your mouth. "You'll be a good girl, hm?" You nodded, anything you say would be muffled by the fabric anyway so it didn't matter. She hummed, and lifted your skirt, seeing your soaked panties, "Look at how wet you are, so fucking pathetic."

Moving your panties to the side, she inserted two digits. Your went cunt sliding her in, so easily. She began thrusting her fingers, you whimpering some. After a little while, she removed her fingers. Replacing them with her cock, the full 9inch going in without a warning. moving you to the couch where she sat down you on top of her. Cowgirl style, you began riding her slowly. Still trying to take dominance here but that didn't work. She gripped your hips tightly and began thrusting into you like a wild animal. All that teasing you did led you here.

"Mmmhp you're such a-a g-good gir- ah shit- girl" she said, and continued to fuck you, she turned you around, reverse cowgirl, and put your head down towards the floor. She had you ass up, and face down. You being her cock slut, you didn't try and move or anything. She was fucking you too good, knowing if you moved, she would've eged you for a long time. Your walls tighten around her and she pulled out. You whined due to the loss of contact, "Wanted to play games, we can play" she left you like that and was jerking her cock, she was so close and began thrusting into her own fist. You were watching her from behind, the sight turned you on so much you were dripping at this point.

She removed her jacket, and threw it to the side. "W-wan y-your cock please" you begged her, she pumped right in to you, "A-ah so fucking warm shit" her thrust starting off insanely fast, her orgasm being built up so much she came pretty fast. Filling you up so much, she continued to pump inside of you. Wanting to get another load out before officially pulling out, "Handong hurry they need you for the dance break!" her manager said, making her fuck you faster. The skin slapping and moans could be heard out the room, handong didn't care if she was caught or not at this point. She just wanted to fill you up more.

And that she did, four minutes passed and thanks to your orgasm coming and going, your juices coming out on her cock, she slid in and out easier soon causing her to cum inside of you once more. Filling you up so much, her cock twitched until it became soft and she pulled out. You both panting and covered in sweat. Neither of you spoke, but she began putting her boxers and compression shorts back on.

"Are you able to walk?" She asked, "I don't think so" she chuckled a bit, "Okay i'll just have sua come in here" One thing dongie forgot about, is how now her dressing room smelled of sex so sua knew once she walked in what happened. "So, what got dongie like this ?" "Teasing" "Gotcha" she said and just continued talking to you until she came back.

[wintersoldiersoul]

Twisted

Synopsis: You're a dancer and you get injured

Word count: 1,270

You watched yourself in the mirror in front of you, stretching your arm higher to make the perfect line. Carefully, you went up onto pointe, the pain immediately shooting through your ankle. You were no stranger to dancing with an injury. Being a professional ballerina, there was rarely a time that you weren’t injured. But it was different recovering from a broken ankle than a sprain. You had been out of commission for months. Technically, you shouldn’t even be attempting to go back on pointe yet but it was October and that meant Nutcracker season. 

Months of daily rehearsals and performances. You were determined to get at least a soloist role this year. It was your third year in the company and you were tired of being stuck in the corps-de-ballet. No. Not anymore. This year would be your year. Even with an injury. 

You pushed through the pain, drilling in the solo that you would be performing for your audition the next day. When you finally took a break and checked your phone, you realized it had been 2 hours. You had 5 missed texts and two missed calls from Bucky. He knew exactly where you were. And he knew it was a place you shouldn’t be without being fully recovered. 

Bucky: Baby you’re gonna make it worse.

Bucky: Come on, doll I don’t want to see you get hurt again.

Bucky: Please my love, just come home. 

Bucky: I know you can do whatever you want, but you know this isn’t smart. 

Bucky: I’m coming to get you. You’ve been there for too long already. 

The last text had been sent 20 minutes ago. You knew Bucky would arrive at the studio any minute. 

You didn’t let that stop you, though, as you clicked play on the music and ran through the solo two more times. You were about to start a third time when you heard the studio door open. Bucky walked towards you. 

“Buck, you can’t have shoes in the studio!” You exclaimed.

“And you can’t be dancing on a broken ankle.” He fired back. You pushed some stray hairs out of your face and behind your ears. You looked like a mess after dancing for so long. 

“I’m fine, okay? I feel fine.” You gritted your teeth and cursed as you took a step towards him.

“Yeah, babe. You seem really fine.” He wasn’t mad at you, just worried. He knew that you were smart and capable of making your own decisions but he had also been dating you long enough to know that ballet dancers don’t listen to logic. Or doctors. Especially during the most important time of the season. 

You looked into his eyes. They were pleading with you to stop, to just let him take you home. But you still hadn’t fully nailed the Fouette turns at the end of the variation. You just needed a little bit more time.

“One more run through. And then you can take me home, okay?”

Bucky wanted to fight you on it, but he knew there was no point. “Okay. One more time. That’s it. After that, I’m throwing you over my shoulder to take you out of here if I have to.” 

“You can sit in here but just don’t distract me, okay?”

He walked over to the corner and sat down. Bucky loved watching you dance. You were so light on your feet, making each step look so easy. He loved how happy and free you looked. But right now, he was terrified that something was going to go wrong. As much as he loved watching you dance, he hated seeing you injured which was pretty much always. 

You clicked play on the music and began the variation. The pain in your ankle was excruciating, causing each subtle movement to send a shooting pain that reverberated through your entire leg.

You made it through about half of the turns at the end when everything came crumbling down. Your bad ankle, the one you were turning on, gave out and rolled over itself. You let out a scream of agony as you fell to the ground, causing Bucky to run over to you.

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

You couldn’t say anything in response. The pain was so bad that you just screamed and cried as he scooped you up in his arms. 

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Let’s get you home and get that ankle elevated with some ice, okay?” 

You nodded. “Sh-shoes. N-need to get out of the pointe shoes.” The tight boxes surrounding your feet weren’t helping the pain. 

“Okay baby, I’ll help you take them off.” He untied the one on your good ankle and reached for the other one. Even the slightest touch caused you to cry in agony. “I know baby, I’m sorry. But you’re right, you do need to get out of these shoes.” Without the constriction of the ribbons and elastic, you could see how truly swollen your ankle was. Bucky didn’t even bother trying to get you into your sneakers, knowing he was going to carry you to the car anyway. 

You cried the whole way home, half from the pain, and half from knowing that you would be completely out of dancing for months.

Bucky carried you into the house and carefully set you on the couch. He carefully helped you change out of your dancewear, audibly gasping when he took off your tights, revealing the true state of your ankle. It was twice the size of the other one, littered with black, blue, and purple. 

“Oh babe…” Bucky sighed. He too knew that you’d be out for a while. That you’d have to go months without doing the thing that made you the happiest.

He carried you back to the couch, settling your foot onto a pillow to keep it elevated. He got an ice pack from the freezer and set it around your ankle, trying to be as gentle as possible. Once it was settled, he snuck his body behind yours, letting your back fall against his chest. Your crying had subsided a bit, but you still were sniffling as smaller waves of tears rolled down your cheeks. 

“You were right. I should have just listened to you. Oh god, I’m so stupid!”

Bucky stroked your hair lovingly. “Hey, stop it. You’re not stupid. You’re determined. You’re passionate. You’re so incredibly strong and resilient. That’s why you were in that studio, okay? Because you have such an amazing work ethic and drive. Not because you’re stupid.”

You sniffled again. “I’m gonna be out for a while.”

“I know baby, I know,” he said, sadly. He felt just as awful about it as you did. “But it’s gonna be okay. You are so talented. You’re such a beautiful dancer and you have a natural gift. Take the time to let this heal now so that you can be even stronger next year.” 

You let your body fully relax against him and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“Get some rest, my love. It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna make sure you get through this. And I’ll help you with physical therapy. And I’ll wait on you hand and foot, alright? Don’t worry about a thing.”

“I love you so much, Bucky.” You whispered, as you began to lose the fight against the exhaustion that was overtaking your body.

“I love you, too, Y/N. Just rest right now. It’s all gonna be okay.”

You felt him kiss your head softly before you let the sea of sleep overtake you.

[cha-melodius]

Fic Pride Weekend

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

@kiwiana-writes tagged me for "Fic Pride Friday" but let's face it, no one is actually doing this on a Friday anymore and Fic Pride should go the whole weekend.

So I decided to try to give some superlatives—my favorite action sequence, my favorite kiss, my favorite love confession, my favorite comedy moment, etc etc. But the problem was I came up with a LOT of superlatives! Oh well. A few up top, and the rest below the cut. Oh, and there are some spoilers below, so be warned!

Favorite Shouted Love Confession: Love is a Losing Game

“Then what, Illya?” Napoleon demands sharply, frustration heating his face. “What exactly was the problem?” “I love you, Napoleon!” Illya nearly shouts, the words ringing loudly in quiet of the club, and the silence that follows is only broken by Illya’s ragged breaths as Napoleon stares at him in shock. Illya closes his eyes, as if trying to steady himself, and when he opens them again the raw vulnerability in them is startling. “I love you,” he says again, with something like resignation in his voice, “and when they told me you quit I thought I would never see you again, and— and that was not something I could bear.”

Favorite Action Sequence (Duo): This Hell of a Season

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the headlamp rapidly approaching. He’s not sure if it will be fast enough. Henry watches as the dark shape of the man, little more than a shadow under the meagre moonlight, shifts slightly out from behind the hedges again. A few more shots, fired near where the shadow lurks, buys Henry some time, but Alex’s approach feels impossibly slow, as if he were travelling through treacle. One heartbeat passes. Two. Three. Four. The motorbike gets close enough to bathe Henry in a wash of yellow-tinted light; he’s now far too tempting a target, and the man shifts out from behind his cover again. Alex nearly puts the bike on its side as he skids into a stop, cutting the lamp at the last minute and plunging them into darkness. “Here!” he yells, and Henry flings himself in his direction, nearly blind after the brightness of the headlamp.

Favorite Action Sequence (Solo): A Good Man is Hard to Find

Pulling a rope off his belt, Mobius ties it securely around the empty window frame then measures out what he guesses is the right length before attaching the other end to his belt again. On the other side of the table, the guards have stopped firing, but he has no doubt they’ll be advancing on him now that they’ve realized that he’s not shooting back. He’ll need to stand up to be able to jump out far enough, which unfortunately means making an easy target of himself for at least a few seconds. He peeks around the table and sends a couple of bullets toward their feet, which succeeds in making them scatter and retreat backwards. Then, holding onto the window frame for support, Mobius takes a deep, steadying breath and rises to his feet. In the second before he jumps, the guards start shooting at him again and a bullet tears through the outside of his upper arm, but he barely feels it past the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He launches himself out as far as he can until he feels the rope snap tight at his belt, punching the breath out of his body. The line starts swinging him in an arc down toward the window, and he twists wildly as he tries desperately to orient himself in the air. Just before he smashes into the huge sheet of plate glass, he manages to fire twice into it and, in a rain of glass, crashes back into the building two floors down. The shouts of the guards are audible from above, as is the sound of running feet; no doubt they’re already heading back down the stairs. Mobius scrambles up and over toward the delivery entrance where he and Sylvie first came in, smearing the blood that’s dripping down his arm along the floor and doorway in a trail. Satisfied at the feint, he takes off toward the utility room and gets through the door, closing it carefully behind him.

Favorite Car Chase: The Hardest Cut (continues from here, hard to put the whole thing in!)

They turn again, away from the courthouse, and Mobius can unmistakably feel the horrible cocktail of adrenaline and dread that floods into his veins. Loki doesn’t answer his question, but his hands tighten on the steering wheel as he stares fixedly out the windshield, knuckles going painfully white. “You’re starting to worry me, you know,” Mobius says with a nervous chuckle, like it’s a joke. “Little heads up on what we’re doing would be great right about now.” Finally, Loki glances sideways at him—once, twice, then a third, lingering look—then he takes a deep, shuddery breath like he’s coming to a decision. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swears emphatically, then jerks the wheel hard to the right, sending them fishtailing into a wild skid and down an alley that looks entirely too narrow. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”

Favorite Moment of Slapstick Comedy: The Makings of a Perfect Christmastime

Waverly, on the other hand, looks surprisingly unperturbed. “Oh, I know,” he says, incredibly. “Because what it looks like is that my war hero is playing home-wrecker to my star author’s marriage.” He looks pointedly at Illya, who’s mouth opens wordlessly as he flushes a deep scarlet, before his gaze slide back to Napoleon. “But that’s not actually what’s happening here, is it?” Napoleon’s mind is whirring as he tries desperately to figure out what the hell is going on, but before he can think of anything that might offer some kind of reasonable explanation, the door to the kitchen opens again. “I’m hoping that the fact that you didn’t come back to the room means you were getting laid and not in here cooking all night,” Gaby says as she comes in, so focused on the coffee that she doesn’t even see Waverly standing off to the side. For a moment, no one moves, until she turns with a mug of coffee in her hand, spots Waverly, and proceeds to drop it on the floor.

Favorite Wrestling Scene: Double Dutch with a Hand Grenade

Two can play, and all that, and he is not having this conversation on his back. Not when Illya has been seemingly holding all the cards to this point. He cants his hips under Illya—slowly, deliberately—and is gratified when his partner’s eyes go wide. More importantly, the distraction makes his grip on Napoleon’s wrists loosen. Napoleon yanks his hands down, out of Illya’s hold, then slams the heel of his palm hard into his sternum. Illya grunts in pain and surprise, shoulders curling inward, which gives Napoleon enough of an opening to grab the front of his t-shirt and roll them both sideways until Illya’s back thunks hard against the mat. It’s Illya’s turn to glare up at him, still grimacing. Napoleon has effectively reversed their positions, pinning Illya’s wrists to the mat over his head, though he hasn’t managed to secure his lower body. Instead, Illya’s legs are wrapped around his waist, preventing him from maneuvering or getting any better leverage for a subsequent attack. Of course, that also means Illya’s legs are wrapped around his waist, which is something he’d been valiantly trying not to imagine ever since that encounter at the café. So much for that. Neither of them is completely in control of this situation, and it’s rapidly starting to seem like that’s true in more ways than one.

Favorite Emotional "Confession": Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood

“Yeah, I mean, it hurts,” he says with a nonchalant shrug he’s pretty sure doesn’t land. He wants to ask, ‘what makes me different? why are you friends with everyone but me?’, but that would give up the game for sure. Instead, he aims for something close. “Sometimes it feels like you’re more distant with me than with other people at the office.” “You’re right,” Henry replies with shocking matter-of-factness. “Casual friends are easy, Alex. There’s no risk when you don’t want anything more from someone than the ability to hold a five minute conversation over coffee in the break room. It’s different when it’s… someone you might truly care about. You’re different.” Alex doesn’t really know what to do with that. It’s quickly becoming difficult to tell where the lies end and the truth begins. “Oh,” he says, floundering a little. “I guess I can see that.”

Favorite Flirty Email: Class(room) Warfare

To: Alexander Claremont-Diaz <claremontdiaz@mcquiston.edu> From: Henry Fox-Mountchristen <foxmountchristen@mcquiston.edu> Subject: Re: your shirts Dr. Acerbic Cocky-Disaster I am quite certain you’ve never given anyone a break in your life. Regretfully, Henry Assistant Professor of What Did I Do To Deserve This

Favorite Seductive Spoon-licking (yes, I have more than one): All the Old Showstoppers

Locating a clean tasting spoon, he scoops a bit of the buttercream out of his mixer and holds it out to Alex across the top of his station. Their fingers brush when Alex reaches out to take it, and an image of Alex holding a very similar spoon up to his lips flashes through Henry’s mind. His mouth goes slightly dry at the memory, and that’s before Alex proceeds to stick the spoon deep into his mouth and draw it slowly out between his lips. Alex’s low hum, which skirts dangerously close to a moan, is somehow audible over the buzz of activity in the tent, and his eyelids flutter slightly as his pink tongue slips out to lick the back of the spoon in a manner that is far too seductive for their current setting. Who could have guessed that giving Alex a spoon would be such a massive mistake? Because Henry can see a camera currently filming them out of the corner of his eye, but he still can’t seem to force his own bloody mouth closed, nor can he hope to control the flush that is no doubt painting his cheeks a rather lurid pink, if he knows himself. The best he can hope for is that he just looks stunned rather than incredibly turned on by the display before him. “Ok, yeah, that��s good,” Alex says, snapping him out of the daze he finds himself in. He grins, and the mischief sparkling in his eyes is enough to make Henry believe he did that on purpose. “Guess you’re gonna make things hard for me, huh Wales?”

Favorite Movie Adaptation Moment: False Dichotomy

“Sometimes I wonder,” Alex says, staring up at the leaves fluttering in the breeze over the sidewalk. “If you hadn’t been Mountchristen, and I hadn’t been Under the Rainbow Books…” “Alex,” Henry breathes, a little unsteadily. Alex keeps going because he is, as previously established, an idiot. He can’t quite bring himself to look at Henry, though. “Maybe I’d have gotten up the courage to ask for your number.” “I’d have asked for yours,” Henry says firmly, surprising him. That does make Alex turn back toward him again. “That first day in the shop. Wouldn’t have been able to wait even twenty-four hours before asking you out to dinner.” “We’d never have been at war,” Alex continues. “The only thing we’d fight about is what to watch on Saturday night.” “Only because you have terrible taste in Star Wars movies,” Henry teases.

Favorite Angsty Kiss: So Close to Something Better Left Unknown

Alex hesitates a moment too long for it not to be an answer. Henry’s eyes are dark and wild with primal desire and something else, something more terrifying than even that, and Alex murmurs, “It doesn’t matter.” “Alex—” Alex turns in his arms and drags him into a kiss that catches like dry tinder, lighting such an inferno under his skin that Alex feels like he’s the one who’s been drugged. This is a fucking mistake, he thinks desperately, then his mind goes blissfully blank as Henry’s tongue slides into his mouth. It’s rough, demanding, as much as sparring match as a kiss, particularly when Henry sinks a hand into his hair and tugs hard, then bites down on Alex’s lower lip when he gasps as stars burst in his vision. Alex gives as good as he gets, though, finally getting his teeth on those sinful fucking lips and swallowing Henry’s answering moans.

Favorite Almost Kiss: White Knuckles

When he comes out of his last spin, Napoleon joins him for the final movements, an expansive trip across the ice that usually ends with Illya hunched over, almost on one knee, as if clutching an apparently dead Juliet. Now, though, there is an actual body in his grasp: Napoleon is underneath him, back bent into a graceful arc, being held off the ice only by Illya’s grip on his hip and his palm splayed between his shoulder blades. As the music comes to its grand conclusion he meets Napoleon’s eyes, and suddenly Napoleon doesn’t seem so unaffected anymore. He’s certainly breathless, all right, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted, and it would be so easy for Illya to flex his arms and draw him upward until their lips meet. Illya considers it a true testament to his self control that he doesn’t do it. “Wow,” Napoleon breathes, after a long moment in which he has made no move to disentangle himself from Illya. Then one corner of his mouth quirks upward into a smirk. “Now that’s more like it.” It is also a testament to Illya’s self control that he doesn’t drop him on the ice.

Favorite Cliffhanger: Nova, Baby

A couple of officers with red crosses on their helmets hurry forward as Raf grabs Alex’s arm and tries to pull him to the side. Somewhere deep inside, Alex knows that he has to let go, that Henry’s only hope is the medical team. The panic choking him has fully taken over now, though, and he only clutches Henry more tightly to his chest. “N-no, Raf, please,” he pleads. “You have to let go of him, kid.” “No, no, I can’t, I can’t—“ “Alex! Look at me!” Raf commands sharply. The order catches Alex full in the chest and he responds instinctively, his gaze snapping up to meet dark, worried eyes. A face much like his own, but lined and careworn after years at the agency. A face that has seen more than its share of hopeless situations. A face that is telling Alex, now, to trust him. “You have to,” Raf says again, his voice gentle but firm. Alex lets go.

Favorite First Meeting: Cold Light

“That doesn’t sound good,” the man replies as he straightens up again. Whatever he was doing he seems to be done with, even though he hasn’t touched a thing. He stares up at the sky for a moment, as if lost in thought; in the silence that follows, Mobius watches ribbons of what’s shaping up to be a rather spectacular display of the aurora borealis begin winding their way across the night’s sky behind him. “So? What do you think?” “Hm?” “About the engine.” “Oh, I don’t actually know anything about engines.” Mobius stares at him for a beat in disbelief. “Then why’d you want to see it?” The man shrugs, a vaguely amused expression playing on his features. “Seemed like a thing one does when your vehicle breaks down.”

Favorite Outsider Perspective: That's What Other People Do

“You know me so well, Peril,” Solo says to him before taking a huge bite. He briefly looks, somewhat bizarrely, like a chipmunk. “I know you are somehow always hungry,” Kuryakin returns. “And you get as excited about greasy diner food as gourmet restaurant.” Solo swallows and grins broadly. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than greasy diner food. If I’m gonna have to go to Jersey for this mission, I might as well indulge. Gimme some of your milkshake, would you?” Kuryakin lets out a put-upon sigh, but his mouth is unmistakably tugging up at the corners as he slides the half empty glass over toward his partner. Robin chews slowly as she watches them continue to banter about the food as if she wasn’t there at all. Kuryakin stretches an arm out along the back of the booth behind Solo’s shoulders, and when Solo finally polishes off the burger he settles back against it, almost but not quite tucked against Kuryakin’s side, looking immensely satisfied.

Favorite Angsty Confrontation: Little by Little

“How many have there been?” Napoleon whispers. Suddenly his proximity is unbearable. Close enough that Illya could lean in and kiss him in an instant, and wouldn’t that just be the perfect cap on all of this misery? He can almost imagine the slide of his lips and the heat of his mouth for a moment before the fantasy threatens to choke him. Illya drops his arm and turns away, striding across the room as he scrubs his hands over his face. “I don’t know,” he says into his palms, and it’s nearly inaudible to even him so he knows Napoleon did not hear the answer. “How many, Peril? I mean are we talking a one or two, or a handful, or—” “I don’t know!” Illya bellows, wheeling back toward him. 

Tagging @orchidscript, @historicallysam, @leaves-of-laurelin, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @three-drink-amy

@loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @nicijones, @justabigoldnerd, @magicandarchery, @14carrotghoul

@mirilyawrites, @eusuntgratie, @cactusdragon517, @violetbaudelaire-quagmire, @magicandarchery

@myheartalivewrites

So that's the number of snippets I posted, but PLEASE if you see this and want to do it, jump in!! Be proud of your fics!