#unfortunately he was SO freaking hot when he suffered

[yesloulou]

Daniel trains in the sim with McLaren | July 13, 2022

[marvelouslizzie]

just let me make you feel better

summary: after a long day of work, you finally come back home and rest. your period is making your day miserable but your boyfriend is here to help you.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, period comfort, established relationship, pet names, mentions of menstruation pain, a little bit of period stigma, comfort offering, sexual activity during the period, nipple play, clit play, fingering, after care, obviously blood, unrealistic portrayal of male partners, no mention of y/n.

a/n: I just wanted to write a Bucky Barnes offers to comfort you during your period story so here we are. Unfortunately, this kind of care is really rare so I’m sorry for fucking up your expectations about men. Most of them don’t even do the bare minimum. This concept would shock them but don’t settle for anything less.

Thank you @notafunkiller and @es1dit for beta-reading and helping me better this story. Love you both!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

God, you can’t wait for this day to be over. It’s not the worst day of your life, you know it, but still, the freaking pain just doesn’t want to go away. At least, not completely. It finds different ways to crawl back to you and keep you suffering.

You tried a lot of stuff, starting with good old painkillers. There’s no denying that the pill is helping you, but it’s just not good enough. Your back is hurting, joints are feeling sore and there’s still a headache on the back of your head that no matter how many painkillers you take, keeps lingering and torturing you. Like bleeding isn’t enough.

Yeah, being on your period and working at the same time is no fun. It’s not even bearable. Still, you make it through the day and come back just to drop on the couch. You really want to get rid of these clothes, take a hot shower and change into something comfortable, but you just don’t have the energy. Mentally, you are already doing all this stuff, imagining how good it would feel to stand under the hot water and just let it relax your muscles. Yet your legs don't want to move. You just lay on the couch like a bag of potatoes.

As you drift between sleep and being awake, you hear the keys jingling, signaling that your boyfriend is home. Is it weird that you can already smell him while he’s standing across the room? You have no idea but you can. It just feels like something…  familiar. You have no idea how it works, but it makes you feel safe even though he did nothing but step into the apartment.

“Darling?” Bucky calls out because he isn’t used to not being greeted by you when he comes home. Usually, you are either going toward him or yelling “Welcome home, baby” from wherever you are.

You can’t find the strength to call out so you groan a little while raising your hand. God, his expression changes so quickly. He walks towards you at a trot.

“Are you alright?”

“I am.” You are just exhausted, nothing out of the ordinary. Especially not at this time of the month.

“Are you sure? You don’t look alright.”

“It’s that time of the month again.” The worried expression on his face slowly fades away when he notices you are actually alright. It makes you wonder what he thought happened to you, but you don't ask him.

“Oh, darling…” His voice is so caring. Your period completely saps you of your energy and he knows it. He knows how you suffer or what you do to make yourself feel better. “Did you take a painkiller?”

“Yes.” Of course, you did. That was the first thing you thought of.

“When?”

You stop for a second to think. “In the morning and after lunch.”

“So you can take another one now, right?” 

That’s a good question. You can take another pill, but your stomach is already protesting at that thought. You should eat something before taking it, but you don’t feel like cooking. Even the thought is exhausting.

“But first you will need food.” God, is he reading your mind or what?

“I don’t feel like–” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s already standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

“I will prepare something for you.” When your words register, he turns around and looks at you. “You don’t wanna eat anything?”

“No, no. I was going to say I don’t feel like preparing anything.” 

“Oh, that’s fine.” He turns around. “Don’t worry. I will make your favorite.”

You have yet to learn what he means by that because you have many favorites. A meal, sandwich, snack, or dessert? You find out what he means when he comes back with your favorite sandwich, a glass of water, and the painkiller you use only during your period. You love him for paying enough attention to notice that.

“Eat while I draw a bath for you. Warm water should help.”

Why didn’t you think about filling the tub and just sitting there? The thought of laying there for a while sounds so much more appealing than a quick shower. It doesn’t take long for you to finish the whole sandwich and take the pill. Your stomach isn’t protesting anymore, and neither are your taste buds. Still, the pain and that discomfort are there, lingering and making you regret being born. Men don’t have to suffer like this and it’s so unfair! You hate mankind for that privilege. While you are lost in your thoughts, Bucky comes out of the bathroom and you notice: No, you don’t hate the whole of mankind. There’s one exception. You can’t hate Bucky when he’s the most thoughtful person you've ever met.

“The bathtub is ready for you. Did you finish your sandwich?” He kind of sounds like a teacher or a parent, checking if you did everything you were supposed to.

“Yep, all done.” You gesture to the plate. “Took the painkiller, too.”

“Good job, doll.” He comes closer without taking his eyes off of you. “Wanna head to the bathroom now?”

“Yes, but I need to take some clothes with me first.”

“Don’t worry, I will take care of it. Just get in there and relax, okay?”

You just nod with a small smile on your lips. When he takes care of you like this, you feel so lucky and so seen. You never asked him to do any of this stuff for you. Occasionally, you just said “I don’t feel like cooking” thinking you would order take out or you asked for a painkiller, but he registered all that information and started to do things without you asking. Seeing how he paid attention and cared about you just makes you feel valued.

You have no idea how long you have been laying in the bathtub. It was nearly perfect with the bubbles and the scent. You expected him to show up and tell you what to do next, but that did not happen. After a while, you decide to properly clean yourself and drain the bathtub. That’s when you notice he put your towels to warm on the radiator, which instantly makes you smile. You wrap your hair with one and dry your body with the other. Thinking you might bleed around, you quickly leave the bedroom to find your clothes. 

While you are thinking if you should go for a pad or a tampon, you find your missing boyfriend in your bedroom. Your clothes are already chosen and set aside, your favorite pajamas waiting for you.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“A little better. The painkiller started to work its magic.” You walk towards your clothes to put them on as quickly as possible, still thinking about the blood.

Bucky quickly gets in your way. “No need to rush.”

“No, no, I really need to rush.” He gives you a look that makes you think he's confused. “I don’t have a tampon on. I will bleed on the floor.”

“And?” His tone is so carefree, it confuses you.

“And we will have to clean it, Bucky.” You state the obvious.

“Then we will clean it.” He makes things sound so natural, so casual. Like it’s the most normal thing on earth, but you are conditioned to think that you shouldn’t bleed around, that you should take care of any mess you make.

“You don’t wanna see that.”

“Maybe I do.” His answer comes instantly, surprising you.

“Believe me, you don’t.” You make a move in the direction of your clothes, but Bucky doesn’t let you.

“Bucky!” 

“Darling, I have been fighting for god knows how long. Do you think your period blood would disturb me?” His question sounds so genuine, you stop to think for a second. He has a point, but not really. It's a different kind of blood.

“I mean it’s not the same, is it?” 

“Yeah, it’s not.” The confirmation you expect finally comes. “I’m used to seeing blood caused by violence, not by nature.”

Wait, what?

You don’t know how to react to this. Of course, it is natural, but it is also torture and it makes a mess every time. A huge mess. Usually, your exes were disturbed by the idea, keeping a respectful distance while you were on your period, but apparently not Bucky. His fingers were already grazing your skin carefully. He looks into your eyes, asking for permission silently.

“I really don’t feel like it, Bucky.” You hate saying no to him, but the pain is still there. You are sure it will make things uncomfortable.

“I’m just asking for permission to touch you, doll. I’m not asking for anything else.” He keeps confusing you tonight. 

“What do you mean?”

“Just let me make you feel better.” His answer is simple, but not enough for you to understand his meaning. What does he mean by that?

“I think having you there now isn’t a great idea, Buck. I’m in pain and a little bit too sensitive.” You try to explain as simply as possible.

“Darling… There are other ways to make you feel better, or did you forget about those? Maybe I should remind you, huh?” Gosh, the smug smile creeping up his lips… It sends shivers down your spine. “Just lay down.” He gestures to the bed.

“I will blee–”

“Shh…” He doesn’t let you finish. “Just be a good girl and stop thinking too much.”

For fuck's sake… A good girl? He definitely knows how to shut your brain up. You slowly sit down on the bed and notice a big towel under you. He already thought about everything, so you won’t have to worry. So you can just enjoy this. If that’s what he wants, you can do that. You can shut your mind for a short while and try to enjoy yourself. 

As he lies down next to you, he turns his entire body in your direction and props himself up on his elbow. His flesh fingers start to caress your skin very lightly, making their way to the towel you wrapped around your body. 

“It is time to…” His fingers work quickly to undo the towel. “...take this off.”

He sounds somehow impatient. Maybe just to see you naked or hear the sounds you make while he touches you all the ways he knows you love. His fingers move to your nipple, fingertips grazing over carefully. As he touches you so lightly, another wave of goosebumps washes over you. It's not normal for you to be this sensitive, but your nipples are already hard. Your lips tremble as he moves closer and gives one a long lick.

“God, damn it.” You mutter and he instantly looks up.

“Should I stop?” The way he asks the question shows how concerned and focused he is.

“No, no.” You take a deep breath. “Just be gentle. I’m just…”

“Sensitive, I know.” He smiles and dives back in. His tongue swirls around your nipple over and over again until you start to cry out.

“Fuck!” That’s so unexpected. The pleasure you are feeling is foreign. Nipple play never felt like this before. “It feels so– so good.”

He moves his mouth away with a wet pop just to say: “Yes, surrender yourself to the feeling, darling.” Then he goes back to sucking your nipple, while his metal hand is massaging your other breast. It’s such an amazing change after feeling pain for hours and you can’t help but crave more. Your hips are rising unintentionally. Bucky’s flesh hand moves down to your body, sliding between your folds really carefully, but it makes you push your hips up again.

You've never felt this wet in your life. You are sure your period has a lot to do with it, but god… That’s not the only reason. The way he’s paying attention to your breasts, the way his index finger is working between your folds… It feels like magic. His fingers start rubbing on your clit and the next thing you know you're moaning his name over and over again. Whenever you moan, his tongue becomes more relentless around your nipple. The pleasure hits you suddenly, it takes your breath away.

“Buck–” Your back arches like a bow. “Oh my go–”

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second. His fingers and tongue work you through your orgasm until you start to feel a little sensitive. You let a long breath out, proving how satisfied you feel.

Finally, he lets go of your nipple and looks up. Hair messed up, lips swollen and eyes glossy. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You breathe out again and it makes him smile widely. So fucking widely… “I feel great.” His hand rests on your pussy while his head is on your upper body. You lean down a little and he meets you in the middle in a messy kiss. God, his lips are the most delicious thing you've ever tasted. They're nearly sweet and just intoxicating.

You sigh loudly, feeling so much better than before. The pain is the last thing on your mind. You actually think about a possible second orgasm already and a little smile creeps up on your lips.

“What?” He asks wondering what you are thinking.

“I think I want a bit more.” 

“Oh, you do?” He is fully smirking now. You just nod while biting one side of your lower lip. “Would it be okay if I put my fingers inside? Would that be comfortable for you?”

“I hope so. We can try and if it’s uncomfortable, I'll tell you.”

“What a good girl you are.”

Before you can say anything in return, his fingers move a little down and he pushes one of them inside.

“Bucky!” The sudden pleasure catches you off guard.

“Sorry, sorry. I will go slow.” He moves himself a little bit up, just to be able to kiss you comfortably. You look at him and excitement is written all over his face. He’s actually enjoying this even though he isn’t getting off himself, and you love how your pleasure affects him. Licking your lips, you close the little distance between you two. 

He kisses you deeply while moving his finger in and out. He’s using just one, but dear god… you are so sensitive. It feels so good even though you aren’t completely filled. Slowly, he pushes the second finger inside, crooking them and rubbing them along a spot where you can see stars. Your mouth suddenly opens as you let out a loud moan. You are unable to kiss him back, it feels like your whole body just tensed up and your muscles stopped working.

“Yes! God, yes.” You manage to say while he keeps on working. “Just like that.”

“Don’t worry, doll.” He speeds up a little. “I won’t stop.”

He keeps working his fingers while kissing your neck. You can feel your second orgasm approaching and it feels so good, but also not enough.

“Please…” You beg without thinking. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want.” His voice sounds so deep, so full of desire.

“Faster. A little faster.” You take a deep breath. “I’m so– close.”

He doesn’t make you ask twice, just starting to move his fingers a little faster and that’s all it takes. 

“Bucky!” You scream so loudly that it surprises even you, but it’s too late to bite your lip. The overwhelming pleasure takes over, making you scream so loudly that Bucky thinks all your neighbors know what you are up to. And he doesn’t care. They should know he is the one making you feel this good. He is the one who makes you forget about your pain and mindlessly moan his name like a prayer.

When you come down from your high, you feel boneless. It’s like your whole body relaxed after the blinding pleasure. Maybe it’s the mixture of the orgasms and the painkiller you took, but you are too tired to care. 

While you stretch your arms, you notice Bucky isn’t next to you anymore. You look around to see where he went and he comes out of the bathroom with another towel in his hand.

“Looking for me?” God, his smile is so smug, but you can’t blame him. The way you just screamed his name without having his cock inside you… That must have boosted his ego. Rightfully so. His fingers are magical. And his tongue. Also his lips. The way he turns you on so much and pulls this pleasure out of you is unbelievable.

“Yes. Why did you leave me?” You know he didn’t but you like to play.

“Just got a wet towel for you.” He kneels in front of the bed, between your legs and you prop up on your elbows to see what he’s doing. He gently moves the towel on your thighs and wipes the blood he smeared while making you scream his name.

“I could clean myself. You didn’t have to.” 

“I know you can, doll. Nobody said you can’t.” He rubs the towel against your slit and you jump a little, feeling sensitive. He notices your reaction and tries to do it more carefully. “I just want to help you.” After he’s done wiping, he folds the towel and puts it away. Immediately after, he grabs your clothes and helps you get dressed: your underwear first (and no, he did not forget about the pads), then your pajamas. In a couple of seconds, you're clean and all dressed up. “Now it’s time to rest.”

You move backward and get under the covers while watching him collect the towels all over the room and put them in the dirty laundry bin. It amazes you how he doesn’t forget about anything. He doesn’t let any small detail bother or worry you. You hear him washing his hands and he comes back with a smile on his face. 

You don’t know how you got this lucky. Having a loving and caring boyfriend like him… Getting taken care of like this… You remember how your friends talk about their boyfriends and how they do absolutely nothing. You know that’s not how a relationship should be, but you also know how rare this is. Your eyes wander back to him while he is getting undressed, showing you how incredibly hard he is. Yet he didn’t even make a move to relieve himself. He didn’t ask for a hand or begged to be inside you like he does sometimes. He put you first and unfortunately that’s even rarer.

He quickly puts on his pajamas and slips right next to you in bed. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you closer. You carefully move your hand down and palm his still rock-hard erection.

“Nope.” His answer is simple yet firm.

“Let me take care of you, Bucky.” You try to say as sweetly as possible. You want to return the favor.

“Not tonight, darling.” He gently moves your hand away. “But I promise, you can do whatever you want to me when you feel better, alright?”

“Alright.” He’s right. You are feeling sleepy already, you can do this another time. 

After all, you are his and he is yours. You have all the time in the world.

He pulls you even closer, putting his head on your shoulder behind your back.

“It’s time to sleep.”

“I love you Bucky.” You say while feeling the weight on your eyelids. It’s hard to keep them open.

“I love you too, darling.”

[mikashisus]

Family Line

”suffering is a terrible fire; it either purifies or destroys.”

— oscar wilde

summary: Chief Justice Neuvillette doesn’t quite understand human emotions. His daughter is the complete opposite, a girl who feels a little too much all at once.

And suddenly, all of Fontaine is experiencing her pain.

pairing: (platonic) father!neuvillette & daughter!reader

content warnings: mentions of su!cide, su!cide attempts, character death

other disclaimers: neuvillette being a bad father but hes trying his best, egeria mentions, mc is fontaine’s it girl, furina trying to act like an older sister but failing, mc is a demigod, mc is half dragon

wc: 2.4k

author's notes: was listening to ‘dead mom’ from the beetlejuice soundtrack and immediately thought to write something based off of it. also based off of family line by conan gray.

trigger warning for su!cide mentions and death mentions. please stay safe!

cross-posted on ao3, written before the events of 4.2!!

All you knew about your mother was that she died in a freak accident 500 years ago. At that time, you were only ten years old.

Ten years too young in your father’s eyes and ten years too old in your mother’s.

Your mother would constantly tell you how honest and wise you were for your age, even going as far as to joke that you would become the new god of wisdom one day. Of course, those were all jokes, and your mother was all lies.

But… there was no denying that you missed her more than anything. She was your safe haven, your shelter, your rock.

As a child, you had a multitude of tantrums. Of course, tantrums were normal in children, but you were special. Your mood swings would decide the weather in Fontaine, which mostly consisted of a downpour followed by incredibly thick fog. Demigod children were not at all common, and your mother knew that. She also knew why the weather was decided by your mood.

She did her best to calm you, sing you a lullaby so that you’d fall asleep and forget about why you were upset. That’s why she was your rock. She stabilized you, knew how to keep your mood under wraps so that you would spare the Fontainian people from another day of pouring rain.

As for your father, he wasn’t in the picture much. Not until your mother passed, that is. You always knew that they weren’t the type to co-parent— that there weren’t really any deep feelings present between them.

Love was trivial to them. You always wondered why they had even gotten together in the first place if they didn’t feel any love towards each other. But you never asked… because, at the time, you were a child and you knew they wouldn’t answer because of that reason alone.

Now, you were old enough to hear the answer. Sadly, your mother was dead, so you couldn’t hear her answer. But your father was alive… and unfortunately for you, he wasn’t a talker. He preferred to leave you in the dark about most things, not seeing a reason to tell you about them if they did not concern you.

And that’s where the problem began.

Your father was emotionless. You often thought of him as a statue. Unfeeling, uncaring, still, and pensive. There was nothing behind those slitted eyes. No trace of sympathy, no trace of remorse. His voice was stern and commanding in the courtroom, and authoritative when it came to you.

Eventually, the rough sound of his voice had become a sound you loathed to hear.

You often wondered why your mother chose him of all people to have a child with. He wasn’t father material, and he definitely did not act like one towards you… but he did take care of the melusines. And that made you angry beyond repair.

You were his own flesh and blood. His only daughter, his pride and joy. Why did he pay you no mind, yet set all of his work aside to aid a melusine? Jealousy burned hot and red through your veins.

Your father was no father at all, and you refused to regard him as such. When a Fontainian you met in the streets would greet you, they’d immediately reduce you down to the “Chief Justice’s Daughter,” a title you loathed greatly. They wouldn’t call you by your name, and it made you all the more angry.

Eventually, you had enough of hearing that name, and refused to leave the Palais Mermonia. If the people would not respect you, then you would not come out to greet them. You stayed locked up in your room for decades, refusing to leave, and not even answering the door when Lady Furina herself came to visit you.

Soon, the people of Fontaine had forgotten what you looked like, but they still told your tale. The tale of a beautiful girl that looked to be in her early twenties, with hair that fell neatly along her shoulders and held the grace and elegance of a princess. A girl that dressed like a princess too, with big blue ballgowns and flowy gold dresses that sparkled in the sun. Jewelry on every wrist, the finest golden earrings, and authentic pearl necklaces. Plump lips laced with lipgloss and eyelashes naturally long and fluttery.

The people loved you… even if they did not see you as more than the Chief Justice’s daughter. You were not your own person. All the smiles you wore for the people were fake. All those dresses you wore were just for show. They didn’t know that you and your father did not speak regularly, and they did not know that your relationship with him was rocky like a raging sea.

It did not help that the two of you were polar opposites. He was a man of little words and even littler emotion. And you, his daughter, were the complete opposite. You felt a little too much all at once— as if a dam was being broken.

Now, you stood in his office, listening as he discussed cordial matters with Lady Furina— who just so happened to be your older sister… your older half sister. Your family was complicated.

Your sister with whom you did not mesh well with ended her meeting with a dramatic sentiment, something not so different from how she usually presented herself. As she passed you, her heterochromatic eyes met yours briefly, before the doors to the office slammed shut behind her.

Now it was only you and your father left in the room. The ticking of the clock on the opposite wall seemed to grow louder each second that the two of you sat in silence. Tension hung thickly in the air, and you were waiting quite impatiently for him to break it.

Finally, after about five minutes of a pen scratching on paper, your father looked up to meet your eyes. You instinctively shrank under his gaze; the piercing, slitted pupils made you uneasy whenever you stared at them for too long. He folded his gloved hands neatly on the table and let out a sigh before he spoke.

“Your mother’s death wasn’t just hard on you, (name).”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. Not this talk again. You’ve had this talk with him many a times before, but all of those times, you refused to hear what he had to say. The subject was touchy for you, and he had known that… yet he continued to bring it up.

“It was hard to recover from—“

“You’re such a liar,” you couldn’t help but spit out, the words finally being said after centuries of you holding them back. “You never cared about mom. You never cared about me— you don’t care about me.” The accusation was harsh, you knew that, but you stood by what you said.

Neuvillette stared at you in shock and disbelief— the most emotion you’ve seen on him in your whole life. You were inclined to believe that maybe he had actually cared… but that thought was fleeting, just like his incredulous expression.

“You know very well that that isn’t true,” he spoke in a whisper, his tone defensive. “I cared deeply for your mother… I care deeply for you. You out of everyone should believe that—“

“How can I when you were never in my life until she passed?” you hissed, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of your eyes. Eyes that resembled his much too closely. You always hated your eyes because of that common similarity. It was why you couldn’t look in mirrors. “You didn’t even make an effort as a father. In fact, you’re hardly even a father at all.”

It seemed as if your words had struck a chord within him, as the look in Neuvillette’s eyes suddenly turned to one of hurt, with an underlying guilt present. He opened his mouth as if to defend himself, but closed it a moment later.

You were undoubtedly right. He hadn’t done a thing. He hadn’t acted like a father at all— hadn’t even tried. Instead, he tended to his duties as Chief Justice and left the parenting to your older sister, who tried her best to raise you, but you wanted nothing to do with her whatsoever.

“…I suppose you’re right.” He sounded defeated.

You held no remorse. You got up and began to leave, fed up with both this conversation, and his bullshit.

“(name)—”

You ignored him as you slammed the door to his office shut and rushed upstairs to your room, where you collapsed onto your bed and let the tears flow.

As you cried, a downpour began outside your window. It was raining again… courtesy of both you and your father’s collective sadness. You had known for a long time why it rained when he was feeling down, and why it happened to you as well.

The secret behind your father’s origins was well known to you. Your mother had told you the story when you were very young. Neuvillette was a dragon— a dragon sovereign to be specific. One of Teyvat’s original lifeforms.

And you, as his daughter, had the power of such a strong elemental lifeform coursing through your veins. As a result of such inherited power, it rained when you cried.

Lifting your head to gaze out the window at the sour weather, you caught a glimpse of the picture sitting on your nightstand. An old, old portrait drawn of you, your mother (Egeria), Focalors, and Neuvillette. The whole family.

Rage burned hot in your veins, and you shot up from your bed to retrieve the portrait. Without thinking, you threw it to the floor and stomped on it, letting your emotions get the better of you. The rain outside got worse, speeding up into a thunderstorm as you threw open the doors to your balcony.

The bloodcurdling, painful scream that erupted from the back of your throat went unheard amidst the downpour, and you couldn’t care less about your soaked gown. Grasping onto the railing, you hung your head.

“I miss you so much, mom… and father doesn’t care. I wish you were here— I wish I could speak to you…” you screwed your eyes shut, a few centuries’ worth of memories flooding through your mind.

Everything, all of it, made you so undeniably frustrated and upset. You missed your mother, you missed her soothing voice and comforting lullabies. You missed the way she’d tuck you in at night and tell you tales of creatures of the deep. You missed her cooking and the way she’d spoil you with sweet treats. You missed her kind heart and playful nature, the way she’d chase you down the hall and swoop you up into her arms and twirl you around. You missed the fancy balls she’d hold for your birthday, each one more impressive and extravagant than the last. You missed the way she treated her people with the utmost love and care, and how she always told you to treat humans with complete kindness and compassion.

And most importantly, you missed being her daughter.

You almost slipped as you climbed onto the railing, thoughts of your mother still running rampant in your mind.

“I want to join you, mother…”

Without thinking again, you took a step, and your body felt weightless… but only for a second. You felt a tug on your arm; something was stopping you from falling.

As you looked up and met eyes with your savior, you broke down into another fit of sobs. Focalors was holding onto you for dear life, her hands trembling and her eyes holding a terrified look. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words died on her tongue because of her fear.

Fear of losing you.

Another hand joined the fray, the blurry outline of Neuvillette appearing in your vision. You shook your head, attempting to pry your arm from their clutches. At your movement, Neuvillette rushed forward in one fast motion, grabbing onto you with both hands.

With a successful effort, the two of them pulled you back onto the balcony, with which you sat blankly for a few minutes. There was a deep ringing in your ears as your mind felt foggy. Had you really almost…

Focalors pounced onto you almost immediately, her heart pounding against her chest as she shook with tears of her own. Her hold on you was so tight, making it hard for you to breathe. It hadn’t registered in her mind just yet that she had almost just lost a sister.

Once it did, she hugged you tighter and cried into your shoulder.

Neuvillette stared down at the two of you, horror still laced in his slitted pupils as he gave you some space. As soon as you met his gaze, tears of his own began to flow down his cheeks.

You didn’t want to believe that the man you had known to show no emotion was currently crying, and so instead, you blamed it on the rain. Yes… it was just the rain falling down his face.

He leapt forward to capture you both in a tight hug, his soft sobs sounding like loud hammering in your ears.

“I’m sorry I failed you both,” he muttered in between cries, screwing his eyes shut. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realize how badly I’ve treated you… I hope you will forgive me one day.”

He hugged you both tighter, and as you made eye contact with Focalors and heard the fast beating of your father’s heart against your ear, you broke down into another fit of sobs.

You clung onto him like a life vest, letting out 500 years worth of pent up sadness and anger. You’ve longed for the day your father would show you any type of affection. And now, you were finally receiving it.

“Forgive me, my daughters,” he muttered again, kissing your forehead and then Focalors’. “I will be better. I will make up for lost time… I promise.”

As he vowed to be a better father, you suddenly felt as if your mother’s arms were wrapping around you in a warm embrace again, and the downpour of rain suddenly felt comforting rather than stinging.

Your mother’s soft voice entered your ears, her words but a whisper among the hollering rain.

Everything will be okay.

author’s notes: i might go back and add more onto this another time, but i think this’ll do for now.

furina is the mc’s half sister, and therefore is not blood related to neuvillette, but he still considers her his daughter regardless.

pls lmk what u thought of this & if u’d like for me to make this into a multi-chapter fic with a better outline. i love receiving comments on my works!

masterlist!

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Chapter 12 lets gooo!)

The audacity of this fish! Eyelids still heavy, brain still longing to go back to sleep. Shooting the meanest glare he could muster at the fish, hoping desperately that his displeasure would be received as intended. Untangling himself from the curtain, Danny rubbed his face. The folds of the fabric imprinted on his cheek leaving a pink mark that was quickly fading with his continued consciousness.

Danny pulled a peeper out of his makeshift freezer. Thankfully, it was still frozen. At least some aspects of his powers stayed the same. Sucking in a deep breath chilled water trickled through the gaps between his fingers, peeper going limp in his hands. His little workstation lacked a stove, a massive oversight on his part, but an understandable one since he didn’t have nearly enough materials to make a stable oven. The only thing he could make at the moment was an explosive hazard that’d cook anything in a five-foot radius to a charred crisp.

Charred Danny was a limited-time special dish, cooked via portal, and was unfortunately out of season forever. Like a discontinuation of tuna-flavored Oreos, nobody would be sad about it not being available. Surely, his fishy stalker would prefer him burnt like a marshmallow, but Danny isn't willing to indulge that preference. If he was going to be eaten, you bet your ass he’d be making this unpleasant for both of them.

Sheesh, he needed to find that guy's name. Or give him a new one. An insult wouldn’t do. Names had to mean something. This isn't a DND game, he can't just use a fantasy name generator and call it a day. No, this name had to be cool, not another “Inviso-Bill” scenario. His legs almost gave out in despair at the thought of being the one to give someone a name so stupid! He hadn’t done anything to deserve a punishment like that. Sure, his whole tapping routine was a migraine and a half, but he hadn’t done any harm. Even when Danny attacked him, he didn’t do anything, despite the fact he could’ve killed Danny with a single swipe from those razor-sharp claws.

Gritting his teeth at the thought of dying a third time in such an embarrassing way, he glanced down at the floppy fish still in his hands. Completely inedible, but Danny was getting pretty hungry at this point. Finding the strength to freeze the damn fish was difficult enough, he couldn’t just shoot lasers out his eyes and suddenly have a fully cooked peeper in his hands! All they had right now was the fabricator… Ugh, he scrunched his nose at the thought, but really, there were no other options for him at the moment. Oh, the ways humanity suffered for survival. Reluctantly giving the thawed peeper to cook, Danny began brainstorming names.

More information would be needed, he couldn’t just name him based on nothing! Swiping back to the fish guy’s databank, Danny studied it thoroughly. According to the PDA, this guy’s DNA was spliced, altered. Not in the getting electrocuted to death sense, but the genetically modified as an embryo kind of way. A perfectly functional hybrid between two unknown species that Danny guessed shouldn’t have been able to breed. But regardless, they came together to make this behemoth of a creature who looked as if he crawled through the deepest depths of hell just to scratch his freaking window.

!!!

He was going to call this guy Dami, short for damnation. It wasn’t an insult, it was cool! Danny would have died a third time to have been given a name as cool as that! Anything would’ve been better than Invis-o-bill. If Dami turned out to be the one who set up the ecto dampener he’d take back his cool nickname.

With a loud ding, Danny’s attention is brought back to his breakfast, now steaming at the fabricator. A small temperature warning flashed on his PDA the tablet setting a timer to let the fish cool down. If this had been any other food Danny might’ve been offended. The true way to eat something hot was to stuff it in your mouth and breathe out steam like a dragon while your taste buds burned! But this was fish, and a fish cooked by a fabricator no less. It was sure to taste like chemicals and Danny wasn’t looking to prolong the experience by choking on said chemical-tasting fish.

So he listened to the PDA if only to avoid a Skynet situation. It might just be data corruption but the AI seemed to be at the end of its rope. Remembering this AI had the choice to kill him with misinformation, messing with it further wasn’t the best idea. He’d toe the line of trolling, but ignoring it now felt like an invitation for it to short-circuit in his hands.

When the timer went off, Danny snatched the fish off the fabricator. The fish was still warm in his hands as he tore into it. Flaky, a faint, ashy aftertaste, barely noticeable if you hadn’t expected the off taste. Gutting the fish took away most of the artificial taste. Who knew vaporizing bones, organs, and tendons could fuck over any kind of palatability? Lasers sterilized the meat, giving it a hint of Space salmonella wasn’t a disease anyone was eager to catch. Maybe he’d get an award for his discovery but he’d rather not be sick with an alien infection when medical knowledge was as limited as it was now. Access to the intergalactic network was pretty much non-existent. They were out of the space confederation reach, meaning he was completely and utterly screwed if he caught anything serious.

What could bandages do for food poisoning? A whole lot of nothing, that’s what! They could only hope a doctor survived the crash and they could find them before any significant injuries happened. … Significant injuries to other survivors, that is. Danny’s going to fight a big ass fish!

Launching himself out the hatch seaglide in hand, Danny began circling Dami. His gigantic tail dragged against the sand, and he could only wonder how he got here in the first place. The shallows were too small for him to be a native. His body was built for the extreme pressures of water up to 8156 meters deep. His preferred environment should be as deep as deep should go. The probable pressure difference between the shallows and Dami’s home habitat was tremendous! It can't be healthy for him to be this close to the surface. Is this a beached whale situation? Did the crash damage his home?

With a databank incomplete, answering any important questions became increasingly difficult. Alterra’s handheld scanner was built to understand the basics. Deeper scans could show him the most complex parts of his biology. If he could build a beefier scanner, it would make things so much easier for him.  Designing a table was several difficulty levels below designing a scanner that could record a species' entire makeup at a molecular level.  Mistakingly blasting a poor, unsuspecting fish with radiation just to understand how this leviathan functioned would end poorly for both of them. It was easy for him to forget Dami's a teenager for his species. If he went around taking bone, blood, and muscle samples, not only would he feel bad but he'd probably be disemboweled by Dami's mom or Dad. While he's willing to throw hands with Dami, a 3v1 wouldn't be fair for the leviathans.  Observation was what his self-preservation limited him to, and if this species happened to be one who liked getting into fights? That was a free blood sample right there. All he had to do now was stop him from destroying the coral tubes

Danny darted underneath Dami’s tail, the fish jolting backward, pulling his tail with him. Gritting his teeth, Danny continued to chase Dami’s tail, bringing the large fish closer and closer to the deeper grassy plateaus. Like dancing, a swing from Danny's blade triggers his partner into the right moves. Of course, the right moves were away from his fucking base!  Dami might mean well, but in the end, he was scaring the bladderfish and destroying the shallows with his sheer mass!

Swinging one last time, Dami finally got the memo and swam a small distance away. Not quite close enough to see his entire base, but close enough for Danny to see him through the window. Like a kicked puppy, Dami rested his head on his arms. It almost made him feel bad, but the trail of uprooted plants and panicking fish the leviathan left in his wake canceled out any guilt.

“Caution. Continued degradation of the Aurora’s drive core may result in a quantum detonation. Continuing to monitor,”

…Shit.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: I have FINALLY finished this fic that I started freaking forever ago. So sorry for the long wait. Life is crazy and unfortunately, I cannot prioritize writing smut over my other responsibilities as a person who works full time AND is suffering through college. Either way, I hope ya’ll enjoy! Sorry for any typos/mistakes. There’s probably more than usual because I was just trying to get this fic done as soon as possible since I have the time. 

Content Warnings: M x f x m threesome (no slash), oral (m and f rec.), cussing, dirty talk, minor spit and cum play, slapping (like a lil bit), I think that’s it?. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI 

Word Count: 6072

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

You have no excuse, really, for the way your eyes linger on him sometimes – like you can’t look away no matter how much you know you should. You’re happy with Jake, happier than you’ve ever been in other relationships. He more than satisfies you in bed and otherwise, and you truly have no idea why your thoughts wander the way they do towards your boyfriend’s best friend. It fills you with guilt – sometimes so overwhelming you can hardly look at either of them. And no matter how hard you try, that itch just won’t seem to go away. An itch for what? You’re not entirely sure. All you know is that it’s there, and that one of these days it’s going to drive you completely crazy. And a part of you welcomes the idea. 

Now, for instance, is one of those moments when you can’t peel your eyes away from him, eyes transfixed on the way his muscles ripple and flex deliciously with each movement – mercilessly pounding into his drum kit in a way that makes your mouth water. 

Your focus is torn, one half of you completely in awe as you watch Jake up there on that stage, thrusting his hips into his beloved guitar and as he allows his face to twist and contort into expressions that should be reserved for the bedroom. Sweat drips from him and his hair is stringy and wild, and the sight makes your thighs clench with need. 

But then you see him – just out of the corner of your eye, and you have to look. He’s sweaty too, and the power of his body makes your mouth run dry. Every movement is meticulous, effortlessly carrying the band and keeping everyone on pace while also delivering chest-rumbling beats that make you feel absolutely awash with need. You allow yourself to watch him for a moment longer, biting your lip between your teeth as heat washes over you – engulfing you with arousal and want. 

From your spot in the pit, you can see both of them so clearly. And, either fortunately or unfortunately for you, Jake can see you clearly, too. You cut your eyes from Danny quickly and lock eyes with him. Instantly, you can feel your cheeks flush as Jake quirks an eyebrow at you. Wanting to act as normal as possible in the hopes that he dismisses what he just saw, you give him a smile and an encouraging nod of your head. He smiles back before shifting his focus back to his performance. You breathe a sigh of relief, shoulders untensing as he turns away. 

The rest of the show goes off beautifully, and before you know it Jake is whisking you away to his dressing room to relieve the post-show adrenaline – something that’s become a bit of a tradition for the two of you. 

“Fuck, baby.” He mutters in your ear, pressing into you from behind as he pushes your chest into the wall. His lips hover just above your ear and you can feel his hot breath on you as he speaks. “I’m so fucking hard right now.” 

He’s not lying – you can feel his hard length where it’s pressing into your ass. You wiggle your hips, grinding down on him a little before you answer. 

“How could it not be after fucking your guitar on stage for hours on end?”

Jake growls and spins you around, using one arm to press into your chest. He’s got his free hand pressed into the wall, caging you in. He’s sweaty and the heat rolls off him in waves as he stares at you – a fire ablaze in his eyes. 

“You got a problem with the way I fuck my guitar?” 

You shake your head ‘no,’ a fresh wave of slick flooding your panties just at the thought of the things he does to that poor instrument. 

“Didn’t think so.” He attaches his lips to yours in a bruising kiss as he slots his thigh between your legs, pressing the thick muscle into your aching core. 

You whine and rock your hips against him, desperate for relief. 

“Jake. Fuck!” You whine, letting your head fall back with a thud against the wall behind you as he leaves searing kisses down your throat. 

Jake reaches a hand downwards, unzipping your skirt and pushing it off you. The fabric pools around your ankles and you whine as he cups your clothed pussy. 

“So desperate for it already?” He asks with a cocksure grin, pulling the soiled fabric of your panties halfway down your thighs before swiping a calloused finger through your folds. He plunges one talented finger inside of you, pumping in and out as his thumb rubs tight circles over your swollen clit. 

Breathless and needy moans fall from your lips like prayers, and part of you worries about others hearing you – but you can’t for the life of you hold the sounds in as he plays your pussy like you’re his guitar, effortlessly coaxing the sounds out of you. 

“You’re soaked, pretty girl.” He breathes out, rocking his own hips forward as he listens to the sounds you’re making. He adds another finger, curling them deliciously inside of you as he finds that special place that only he can. “All this for me?”

“All for you, Jake.” You stutter out through moans, spreading your legs as much as you can. His arm pressing against you is the only thing keeping you upright. 

“It’s not though, is it?” 

Your eyes spring open to stare at him, icy panic washing over you. His fingers don’t stop, but he’s pinning you with a look you can’t decipher. 

“What-what do you mean?” You ask him, fighting to get the words out as he presses his thumb harder against your clit. 

“I’m not blind, baby. I see the way you watch our sweet Daniel when you think I’m not looking.” 

Your eyes widen comically as your breath catches in your throat. Stunned, you say nothing as you stare at him. 

Jake rolls his eyes at you, pulling his fingers from your weeping cunt and sucking them into his mouth. He moans around them before releasing them with a wet pop. 

“Don’t act all coy now.” He says, stepping back from you to slip his jacket off before unbuttoning his suit pants and stepping out of them, leaving him in nothing but his black boxers. 

You want to admire the tan, sweaty expanse of skin that lies before you, but the panic and fear is clouding your mind. 

“I watched you tonight… watching him and biting your lip the way you do when you’re horny.” Jake tells you, palming his hard cock through his boxers. 

You’re watching him with wide eyes, completely at a loss for what to say or do. You’ve never felt more exposed than you do right now: in nothing but your bra, your skirt and panties pooled around your ankles, and your deepest darkest secret being spoken about as if it’s nothing. Jake must sense your fear, as he closes the distance between the two of you. 

“It’s okay, baby.” He assures you, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand – the softness of the gesture completely out of place in such a situation. It soothes you nonetheless. “I don’t mind it.” 

Your eyes widen as he pulls his boxers down, allowing his hard cock to spring completely free. The tip is flushed with arousal, and pearly drops of precum glisten on his tip. 

He holds his palm up to you, just below your chin. 

“Spit.” He commands, and you open your mouth and allow a string of drool to pool in his hand. “Good girl.” He says, wrapping his fist around his cock as he begins to pump himself with long, languid strokes, flicking his wrist every so often as his palm passes over the head.  

“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you think about when you stare at him.” 

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, nerve endings ablaze with arousal and fear – a delicious combination, if you’re being totally honest. Jake is looking at you like a tiger watches its prey, and his heaving chest and lust-blown eyes spur you on to speak. 

“I think about how strong he is.” You finally say, voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper. “I think about his shoulders… about how he could pick me up with so little effort – if he really wanted to.”

“Yeah?” Jake asks, groaning as you speak, hand working over himself quickly. “What else? I’m sure there’s more.” 

“I imagine him fucking me.” You admit, cheeks so hot it feels like you’re melting. “I imagine you both fucking me.” 

“Fuckin’ hell, baby.” He moans, stopping his strokes and pressing in impossibly closer to you.

All you can do is watch, back pressed up against the wall, as he guides the velvety head of his cock through your folds, collecting your wetness and spreading it over himself. 

He taps your thighs, signalling for you to jump. You comply, wrapping your legs around his hips as he holds you to him, using his body weight to press your back into the wall to keep you upright. 

“You imagine both of us? Worshipping this pretty, pink pussy?”

You nod, biting your lip as he finally slips his length inside of you, burying himself to the hilt as he groans deeply. 

You grip his shoulders with both hands, steadying yourself as he begins to piston his hips into you. You toss your head back and moan loudly at the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. 

“What if I told you that I’d like that very much?” He asks you, pressing his face close to you so that you’re almost kissing. 

“You would?’ You ask between pants, feeling the coil in your belly beginning to tighten. 

“So much, baby.” He grunts, voice thick and husky with lust. “I imagine the noises you’d make as we both take care of you. You’d be helpless… completely lost to the pleasure of having us both at your mercy.”

You whine at his words, and he grunts when you clench around him. 

“You know what else I’ve imagined, sweet girl?” 

“W-what have you imagined, Jake?” You can barely speak, mind foggy with pleasure as he pounds into you so hard – you know your back will be bruised tomorrow, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. 

“I imagine how pretty you’d look with your lips wrapped around his cock.” 

Without warning, your orgasm crashes through you – you practically scream as you finish, and wave upon wave of pleasure courses through your entire body. Suddenly, Jake pulls his length from you, feverishly stroking his cock before he finishes, painting his hand and your belly with his release. 

As you come down from your high, your mind is left reeling at what Jake just admitted – and of your own reaction to it. Jake brings his hand up to your mouth and you obediently lap up his release, moaning at the salty taste of him. Once you’re finished, he falls to his knees – licking through your folds to clean up your own release and his cum that covers your lower belly. He goes slowly, careful to not overstimulate your sensitive clit. If you were in a better state of mind, the action would have surely sent you spiralling into lust all over again. 

Once he rises, the two of you just stare at each other. You have no idea what you’re supposed to say now. 

“Baby,” Jake says sweetly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “if this is really something you want, I want to make it happen for you.” 

“Is this something you want?” You ask him in place of giving your answer. 

“I already told you how I feel about it, baby. It’s up to you.” 

“I don’t know, Jake…” You start, shaking your head and biting your lip. “We haven’t even talked to Danny about all this and-”

“Actually I kind of already have.” 

That draws you up short, and your jaw drops open in shock. 

“What?” 

“Yeah, I- um.” He scratches the back of his neck – the way he does when he’s nervous, and you can practically see the trepidation in his eyes. He’s afraid you’re angry. 

“I’m not angry, Jake.” You soothe him, grabbing his hand in yours and running your thumb over the back of his hand. “Just shocked. And a little embarrassed.” 

He gives you a soft smile at that – so very different from how things had been just moments before in the heat of passion and lust. 

“Don’t be. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Danny is more than willing… if you decide you want this.” 

You nod, mulling over his words for a moment. This all feels like a dream – a terrible, wonderful dream that you never thought would come true. But apparently it can come true… if you really want it to. And you do – so badly, you want it to come true. 

“Okay.” You finally breathe out, feeling like a weight has suddenly been lifted from your shoulders. 

“Okay as in yes?” 

“Okay as in yes.” You confirm, and a lovely smile spreads across his face – the one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle in the cutest way. 

“I told him that I’d text him when we got back to our hotel room and he said he’d be there. And if I don’t text him, it’ll be like this discussion never happened.” Jake tells you, pulling his suit pants back up before retrieving his jacket from the floor and slipping it on. 

“I want you to text him, then.” You say, pulling up your skirt and panties. Jake hands you your top from the floor, and you slip it over your head. 

“We have the whole ride back. Think about it and then we’ll decide once we actually get to the room. How’s that sound?” 

Your chest warms at him – suddenly overcome with his thoughtfulness surrounding this whole situation. Clearly, he wants this to be your choice, completely unrushed and uninfluenced by anything other than your own want and desire. 

You nod, and the two of you gather your things and head to the car. 

-🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️-

“I’ve decided.” You tell Jake, as the two of you enter your shared hotel room. You flick on the light and turn to look at him. 

He doesn’t say anything – merely inclining his head towards you, signalling for you to continue. 

“I want you to text Danny.” 

A smirk tugs at his lips as he whips his phone from his pocket. You watch as his fingers tap quickly across the screen, notifying Danny of your decision. 

“I knew you had it in you, babe.” 

He grabs your shoulders, guiding you gently over to the king size bed in the middle of the room. 

“Do you wanna undress now or wait until he gets here?” 

You think for a moment, weighing the options. 

“Now.” 

“Okay. Do you also want me to undress with you? Would that make you feel more comfortable?” 

“I think so.”

“Okay.” 

The two of you undress slowly – it feels like the calm before a wonderful storm. You can’t help but watch him as he undresses, affection and thankfulness washing over you. This is uncharted territory for you, and he’s making it as smooth as he possibly can for you. You can’t imagine that there are many men out there that are as attentive as he is in a situation like this. 

Once you’re bare, you climb into the bed. You lean back into the plush pillows, attempting to soothe your nerves. Jake crawls up next to you, placing a soft but insistent kiss on your lips. He smooths his hands over your thighs, rubbing up and down them lightly. 

“Just relax, sweet girl.” He murmurs into the skin of your neck. “We’ll take good care of you.” 

You smile, nerves still there but beginning to melt away. 

“I know you will.” 

A knock at the door makes you jump, and Jake’s grip on your thigh tightens a little. He looks at you, giving you one last moment to back out. 

You don’t want to. Not after wanting this for so long and thinking it impossible. You give him one single nod, and he smiles at you in return. 

“It’s unlocked!” Jake calls. 

The door opens, revealing a nervous looking Danny in nothing but his white stage pants. His chest is bear, allowing you to admire the sight before you freely. He closes the door behind him and locks it – sealing you into your fate. 

“Hey.” He says, giving you a lopsided smile. 

“Hi.” Your voice is quiet, timid. He notices. 

“Are you sure this is okay, Y/n? I don’t want you to feel pressured-” 

“I’m sure.” You interrupt him, sitting up a little to look at him more clearly. You look at Jake, who’s sitting quietly – letting you take control of this. “I promise you I’m sure.” 

“Okay. Good.” You can physically see his shoulders relax. 

“Strip and come over here.” You tell him, slightly shocked at the confident tone that falls out of you – you’re not sure where it came from, but you try to embrace the feeling. 

He follows your orders, stripping to nothing but his boxers before walking over to the side of the bed. You can see the outline of his cock through the fabric, big and half-hard. 

“Everything.” You order again, leaning back into the pillows. 

He hooks his fingers into the waistband before tugging them down and kicking them off, exposing his cock to your hungry eyes, He’s big – as you always assumed he’d be. 

“Spread your legs for me, baby.” Jake mutters, finally breaking his silence. You turn to look at him, noting the way his pupils are blown so wide his eyes almost look black. “Let him see how pretty this pussy is.” 

You’re stunned for a moment at his brazen words, but you quickly comply with his order. You allow your knees to fall apart, exposing your glistening cunt to the two gorgeous men in front of you. 

You watch as Danny’s eyes widen and his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. His dick stands at full attention, and his hands flex at his sides. 

“Gorgeous isn’t she?” Jake asks Danny, who can only nod his confirmation at the sight of you. 

His reaction fills you with courage, and you bring your own hand down to swipe it through your folds, feeling the wetness there. Danny lets out a breathless little noise. 

“She tastes so sweet – sweeter than fucking candy.” Jake says, eyeing your hand as you begin to circle your finger over your clit. “Want a taste?”

“God yes.” Danny sighs, and the bed dips as he climbs in alongside you and Jake. He settles between your thighs, eyes locked onto yours for a moment. You give him a nod and he turns his head to Jake, silently asking for permission. 

“Go ahead, Dan. Make her feel good. She deserves it.”

That’s all he needs. You pull your hand away as Danny dives in, licking a long stripe from your slit all the way to your clit. You whine and toss your head back at the feeling. 

“Fuck, you do taste good.” He admits into your heat. 

“Told you.” Jake tells him, and you can hear the cocksure smile in his voice. 

Suddenly, Danny’s tongue slips into you, drawing a loud moan from you as he fucks into you with his tongue. Your legs tremble and you clench your eyes shut at the overwhelming feeling of pleasure washing over you. 

Without warning, Jake attaches his lips to your nipple – suckling and biting it the way he knows drives you crazy. 

You fist your left hand in the sheets, and your other tangles in Danny’s curls as he fucks into mercilessly with his tongue. Loud moans, high-pitched and desperate, fall from your lips. Mixed calls of both Jake and Danny’s names as Danny skillfully leads you to the edge. 

Jake kisses over to your other nipple, biting down harshly and causing you to buck your hips into Danny’s face. The action allows his tongue to go deeper, and he groans into you. The feeling is overwhelming as you begin to rock your hips into him, hurdling closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Make her cum, Danny.” Jake says, and the words come out as a demand. “She sounds so pretty when she cums.” 

With that, you’re falling apart – drenching Danny’s beautiful face with your release. You let out a wail as the pleasure courses through you, causing your entire body to tremble and shake. 

Danny sits up, sinking his weight on his heels as he gives you a moment to recover. 

“Prettier than any song we’ve ever written.” Danny says, licking his lips and tasting your release.

You blink your eyes open to find the both of them staring at you – waiting for you to tell them what you want. It’s sweet, but your remaining nerves and anxiety are making it difficult for you to find the words to tell them what you want. 

Jake, sensing this, speaks up first. 

“Tell him, baby. Tell him what you told me.” 

Instantly, you know what he’s referring to, and somehow your cheeks grow even redder. Danny is looking up at you with wide, lust-blown eyes, and the sight of him makes your pussy clench around nothing. 

“I-” Your voice cracks lightly and you clear your throat, “I want you to fuck me, Danny.” 

A groan falls from between Danny’s lips – a noise so sinful you’re shocked to hear it coming from someone who’s usually so sweet and reserved. It’s an amazing confidence boost, knowing that you can affect him that way. 

“I’d love to.” Danny cuts his eyes to Jake again, who’s grinning at the two of you. “If that’s okay.”

Jake nods at him. 

“You can fuck her, Daniel. But be careful – her pussy’s fucking addicting.” 

From his place beside you, Jake leans over to the bedside table where you know he’s got a box of condoms. Pulling one from the box, he hands the little packet to Danny. 

With dark eyes still trained on you, Danny rips open the foil with his teeth before slowly rolling the condom onto his hard length. He groans as he slides his hand down himself, and Jake watches in rapt attention as you practically drool at the sight in front of you. 

“You ready, baby girl?” Danny asks, voice incredibly deep and dripping with lust. 

You nod in response, spreading your legs wider for him. 

Slowly, he runs a finger through your slick, gathering your wetness and spreading it over his cock. You’re practically dripping, and there’s more than enough to get him sufficiently lubricated. 

Your eyes roll back into your head as he finally slides into you, stretching you beyond belief. He’s girthier than Jake, and the sting brings with it unimaginable pleasure as he bottoms out. 

Danny’s brows are pinched together as he holds still for a moment, giving you time to adjust to his size. His entire body is tense as he fights to control his own desire and need for some sort of relief for his aching cock. 

“Move, Danny.” You whine, and he complies immediately.

He pulls almost completely from your entrance, before slamming his hips back into you. He sets a quick, brutal pace – thrusting into you with so much force that the bed creaks and groans with each one. His own groans are like music to your ears as he loses himself to the pleasure as well. 

“Fuck, you feel like fucking velvet around me.” He admits through gritted teeth. 

You open your mouth to respond – to tell him how good he feels inside you, but your words are cut short with a loud moan as a sudden, violent vibration presses into your swollen clit. 

In shock you look down to see Jake, leaning over the side of the bed next to Danny with your cherry red vibrator in his hand. He’s got a wicked smirk dancing across his lips and he raises an eyebrow at you. 

You thought you’d hidden that thing well enough – but Jake clearly knew you too well. It’s his favorite thing to do to you – put that damn vibrator on its highest setting and use it while he fucks you until you’re a sobbing, overstimulated mess. You should have known that he wasn’t going to let Danny be the only one to have fun tonight.  

“Jake,” you cry, just as Danny nails you with a particular delicious thrust, “Daniel, fuck!” 

Danny smiles at your inability to control the needy, pornographic moans that fall from between your lips and Jake laughs at you as you squirm. 

“Too much, baby?” He asks, pressing the vibrator into your clit harder, sending white hot sparks shooting through your entire body. “Thought you wanted this? Wanted us both to ruin you?” 

You can’t answer, completely overwhelmed with both too much and not enough. 

“Want me to stop?” Jake asks. 

“Don’t fucking stop, Jake.” Danny orders suddenly as he places his forearms on the bed on either side of you. “She’s clenching around me so fucking hard.” 

“Shit!” You groan, both of their voices driving you completely crazy with lust. 

You spread your legs wider, allowing Danny to thrust even deeper into you, and despite the overwhelming sensations of both Jake and Danny’s cock thrusting into you, you can feel your impending orgasm start to claw its way up inside you. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” You whine, eyes screwing shut on their own accord. 

“Cum around my cock.” Danny orders, his pace faltering as his own release comes closer and closer. 

“Let Danny have it, angel. Do it. Come on.” 

Your orgasm feels like it lasts forever – wave upon wave of hot pleasure tearing through you. With a broken moan, Danny is cumming too. You open your eyes the best you can to take in his blissed out expression as he finishes. You try to memorise the way he looks – the way his mouth opens in a silent scream, the way the sweat drips down him, and the way his brows furrow as he rides out his pleasure. 

Your body starts to shake as you come down, and Jake swiftly removes the vibrator from you, clicking it off and placing it onto the nightstand. 

Your body is drenched in sweat, and you whine and hiss as Danny pulls out of you. He pulls the used condom from himself, and tosses it into the small trash can in the corner. 

“Beautiful.” He whispers, caressing your flushed cheek with his fingertips. You give him a lazy smile, before turning to see Jake. His cock is still rock hard, leaking and neglected where it rests against his belly. He’s watching you like a hawk, licking his lips at the sight of you. 

“Jake.” You whine, reaching out for him. You want him to enjoy this too. 

“Can I tell Daniel about what made you fall apart on my cock earlier, angel?” 

You nod, instantly remembering how hard you had cum when Jake admitted what he had imagined taking place between you and Danny. 

Danny watches Jake, cocking his head expectantly, cock already half-hard again despite the orgasm that he just enjoyed. 

“You see, Daniel,” Jake begins, wrapping his hand around his cock and beginning to stroke himself as he keeps his eyes locked onto you as he speaks. “She was so embarrassed at first, when I asked her about what she imagined with you. All flushed and timid.” 

You turn to Danny to see him staring at you, listening to Jake but watching your reaction to his words instead. You can’t help the way that your thighs clench as you remember what had transpired with Jake earlier. 

“But no matter how embarrassed she was…” Jake pauses, allowing the moment to draw out before he continues, “she couldn’t stop the way she completely fucking lost it when I told her how pretty she’d look with her lips wrapped around your cock.” 

You watch as Danny’s breath catches in his throat, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly. His eyes dart between you and Jake – from your flushed, cockdrunk expression to Jake’s smug one. 

“She’s real good at it, Daniel.” Jake’s strokes on his cock remain slow, drawing out his own pleasure by edging himself as he speaks. “She’s a desperate little whore when you give her a cock to choke on.” 

“Please.” The request falls from your lips completely unbidden, your brain unable to filter your words in the lust-drunk state that it’s in. “Let me taste you, Danny. Want it so bad.” 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Danny breathes out, cock twitching where it rests against his belly. “I never thought I could have this. I never thought I could have you.” 

“You have me. Please.” Your mouth is watering, salivating at the sight of him as he seemingly fights with his own desire as you beg to suck his cock. 

“And you,” Jake interrupts, smiling down at you wickedly, “have both of us. Let us ruin you – fill you up like I know you want us to.” 

He’s not wrong. You do have them, and you want nothing more than to let them use you. You want them to fill you – you want to be theirs to take their pleasure from. 

Wordlessly, Danny shuffles upwards, finally settling on his knees above your head. 

“On your hands and knees, Y/n.” He orders, seemingly finding his courage again. 

The sound of your name on his lips, voice drenched in unfiltered need, sends a fresh wave of slick down your thighs as you fulfil his request. You roll over, making a show of sticking your ass up in the air for them to enjoy. 

Distantly, you’re aware of Jake’s movements as he leans over to grab a condom for himself. The sound of the foil tearing makes your belly flutter with anticipation. 

“Fuck.” Danny whispers, running an appreciative hand up across the swell of your ass. 

“So eager to please, aren’t you, angel?” Jake murmurs, settling himself behind you. He grips your hips with both hands, digging his calloused fingers into your flesh. 

Danny has his own hand wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly and you watch in awe as the muscles in his forearm and shoulders ripple. You look up at him through your lashes and open your mouth, extending your tongue in invitation. 

Slowly, Danny traces the tip of his cock over your lips, stretched as you open your jaw wider. Finally, he places his hard cock on your tongue. The skin is hot and velvety as he slides his length into your waiting mouth, and you swallow him down the best you can. Already, your jaw aches around him, but you don’t care.

You feel it as Jake swipes his own cock through your folds, lathering himself in your release and slick before nudging the head of his cock into your slit – just barely breaching your entrance in order to tease you. 

Doing your best to breathe through your nose, you swallow around Danny’s cock, allowing his tip to nudge the back of your throat. You gag and tears begin to leak from your eyes. You wiggle your hips, signaling to Jake that you want more. 

“There we go. Fuck.” He groans, bottoming out inside of you and stilling for a moment. You moan, and the vibrations draw a stuttered whimper from Danny. 

“You’re perfect.” Danny admits, eyes falling shut as you hollow your cheeks and begin to bob your head the best that you can. It’s not the best position, but he seems to be enjoying it nonetheless – the groans that escape him are downright sinful. 

Jake starts a steady rhythm, each stroke deep and powerful. He’s not rushing, instead taking his time and admiring the view in front of him. 

“I knew I was right, angel. You look absolutely divine sucking his cock.” 

You whine at his words, overwhelmed with need as he continues to thrust into you slowly. 

Doing your best to balance your weight on one arm, you reach up with the other to find Danny’s hand. Once you find it, you guide it up to your hair, allowing him to set the pace. 

Taking the hint, he starts to rock is hips into your mouth, fucking your throat beautifully. Drool falls from the corners of your lips on both sides, and your eyes roll back into your head as Jake picks up his pace. 

“Fuck, Y/n.” Danny moans, tossing his head back. You wish you could see him better, but the sounds he’s making are more than enough. You do your best to cement them into memory so that you can revisit them someday in the future. 

Jake is similarly losing himself as he fucks you, nailing that special spot inside you that drives you crazy. His grunts are animalistic, clearly enjoying the sight of you so blissed out and pliant. 

“I’m close, angel.” Jake growls, slapping your ass. The hit is hard, and you moan loudly at the sting. “You’re so beautiful – letting us fucking use you. Shit.” His words come out pitchy, like they always do when he’s about to cum. Your own orgasm is on the horizon, and you almost don’t want it – you don’t want this feeling to end. This feeling of being completely at their mercy, nothing but a vessel through which they’re finding their pleasure. 

“M’ close.” Danny tells you, and you can feel his cock twitching on your tongue as he continues to fuck your mouth with frenzied thrusts. You just moan, tightening your lips around him to let him know you want him to cum down your throat. 

Little “uhs” escape Jake’s pretty lips, and the sound of him, coupled with his hard thrusts and Danny’s groans, send you careening into your climax. Your entire body tenses as you cum, and you let out a noise that barely even sounds human. 

With a loud groan, Danny spills down your throat, and you swallow every last bit of his release – savoring the salty taste of him as your orgasm keeps fucking going. 

After only a few more sloppy thrusts, Jake explodes inside the condom, cock pulsing and twitching as he rides out his pleasure inside you. The both of them are panting and covered in sweat, and your own body feels floaty and exhausted as Danny extracts his cock from your mouth. 

Delicately, Danny uses the sheet to wipe the saliva that covers your chin, caressing your cheeks as he does so. Jake pulls out of you slowly, taking care to be gentle on your abused cunt. As soon as he pulls free, you allow your body to relax fully, sinking into the mattress utterly spent. 

“There’s a clean towel and some fresh clothes in the bathroom if you want to shower.” 

The sound of Jake’s soft voice floats through your ears, sounding like it’s distant and muted. 

“Thank you. I think I’ll just shower in my room, though. Don’t wanna make too much noise. She needs to rest.” You hear Danny respond, voice equally soft. 

You tilt your head up at him, taking in his flushed chest and the way his body shines with perspiration. He’s like a Greek god standing in your hotel room, looking down at you with soft, appreciative eyes. He leans down towards you, pressing a kiss to your lips. He keeps his lips closed – simply a kiss of gratitude and comfort. 

“Thank you. For letting me experience you for a night.” He says quietly, lips quirked in that little sideways smile that you love so much. 

“Mmm. Thank you.” You tell him, resting your head back on the mattress. 

Danny rises from the bed, slipping back into his pants before turning back to look at Jake. You watch in silence as they stare at each other, seemingly communicating through just the look alone. Finally, Jake smiles and tilts his head. 

“Take good care of her.” Danny grins, turning to head for the hotel door. 

“Always.” Jake responds, smiling down at you and brushing your sweaty hair from your forehead. 

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

If you’re reading this, I love you! 💗

I posted a while ago asking if anyone was interested in a fic like this and so if you responded to that post I went ahead and tagged you :)

Tagging:

@ignite-my-fire

@demolitionndann

@brujamagik

@mybussyinchrist

@songbirds-sweet

@ageofwagner

@takenbythestarcatchers

@sinsofstardust

@wildbluesorbit

@unfollows80

@jaketlove

@becinabubblegvf

@stardustthread

@sunandthemoontwinflames

@meetingthestoryteller

@withlovegvf

[dissolving-mansion]

I love shipping Jon in the TMA fandom because his potential love interests are this:

Guy who was only marginally worse at his Job than Jon was at his own (because he let an animal into the archives). Whenever he sees something he doesn't like he embodies the "I do not see it" meme. Man who is against crime until he personally dislikes the person the crime is being committed against, then it's fine. Bonded with Jon via shared trauma. Thinks Jon is incapable of making his own decisions. Spent most of his life lonely and bitter and without any 0 external or supernatural causes for this. Makes nice tea tho.

Guy who hates Jon because hating Elias would be even more pointless. Was stalked by Jon. Went from expressing fair negative criticisms and Jon not listening to expressing unfair negative criticisms and Jon listening too much. Lost the people he cared about to the thing that eventually destroyed him. More qualified for archival work than the rest of the team and simply because his publishing career gave him the mystical ability to spot errors. Only interaction with cops was sleeping with them for information so he took one look at Jon and Basira and was like "getting a lot of sleeping with cops for information vibes here". Heartbreaking last line before he went on his kayaking trip.

Girl who tried to murder him even after he thought he had tried to talk her out of it. Spent like a year looking at him and thinking "prey". Knife. Was a cop. In the camp of "Jon shouldn't have an opinion, actually, he should shit up." Often held up in comparison to Jon to make him look bad but she just honestly wants to do better. Has traumatic things on common with Jon. Werewolf. Presumably hot tho.

Not-a-guy that has stabbed Jon. Gives good advice in extremely cryptic ways like some kind of fortune teller. Has the skin texture of leather, apparently. A liar but honest about it. Has saved Jon and company on multiple occasions but did so in the creepiest and most villainous ways possible. Wanted to kill Jon. Had revenge fantasies that only involved Jon because he was Alive and There. Also wanted to be Known by Jon, a factor that may have contributed to its death. Died for wanting something clearly and without deceit.

Man who is way more dramatic and evil than he pretends to be. Makes puns that are only funny weeks later when you finally get them. Owns evil contracts. Hired the two people he knew would be most incompetent at archival work for archival work. Gave Jon a bed?? When Jon is stressed he concludes that the solution is More Work. Thinks being human is overrated. So terrified of being a victim that he victimized literally everybody else. "Grinning freak". Lying liar man. Same sense of humor and communication style as Jon tho.

Goth who comes across like a protagonist. Burns cursed books. Could have esaily been a bad person but chose to be good instead. Loathes saving people but begrudgingly does it anyway. Spent his entire life following the orders of old women who scare people. A book appraiser who would be shocked and upset by Jonathan "I only ever read a book once" Sims. Deserves a nap. Unfortunately, he died before Jon could meet him.

Jon is suffering.

[gyuzoh]

“풀어 POUR UP” KIM MINGYU—°

summary: bartender kim mingyu, who you have the undeniable hots for— denies your advances due to your promiscuous reputation as seoul’s newest and upcoming hottest female dj.

therefore you make it a mission to prove your god-sculpted eye candy, wrong.

playlist: pour up (dean), you know (jay park, okasian), 2nd thots (jay park), freak like me (camo), btbt (b.i)

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, smoking/vaping, drugs and sex.

previous or next

chapter two.

warning! this chapter includes slight mentions of spiking, if this will make you uncomfortable i inform you not to read!

aka i didn’t realise how angsty i like to write my stories ;-; but our ship will finally make some progress.

last night was a fucking nightmare, you’re currently sat on the floor of your bathroom reconsidering the choices you made only less than twelve hours ago.

you had ended last night on the floor of the women’s restroom on your knees— unfortunately not in a stall occupied with mingyu, but rather puking up all the blue and gold liquor you had been handed by the other dj’s you acquainted who had also played that night.

“you gotta be shitting me,” you say as you held your own hair back, crouching over the toilet bowl. you’re not exactly one to get drunk, but you felt as though you needed some liquid courage to make some progress with mingyu.

that however, only lead to liquid terror. memories of last night continued to replay in your mind, the way you abruptly told mingyu to basically talk to your hand after your little argument as you ran with your hand on your mouth, gagging as you try to hold back the puke coming up. leaving mingyu, completely dumbfounded. “i’m never drinking ever again.”

it seems you would never be able to prove those rumours of yours false.

the door to your bathroom opens and heeseung emerges with a plastic bag in his hands. leaning down beside you, he places the bag on the ground and gently pulls your hair aside for you, replacing your hands with his so you could focus on throwing up with full force.

“nuna, you know you can’t handle your liquor,” he whispers, remembering how grumpy you got at him a long while back for speaking too loud whilst you were suffering from a hangover.

you groan in knowing frustration, sitting back up. heeseung lets your hair fall down on your back as he stands up-right, walking toward the sink and wetting a hand towel with warm water to wipe your face.

you stay slumped with your back toward the bathroom wall and wait for your younger brother to wipe your face for you.

“i bought you hangover soup and some supplements,” he tells you as he finishes up with wiping your lips, “i’m going out with beomgyu soon, so make sure to shower and eat.”

if it weren’t for the fact that heeseung was two years younger than you, you’re sure people would assume he was the older sibling with the way he was babying you.

you roll your eyes with a small smile, “i got it, just go.”

heeseung does a little grimace, moving back a couple of inches and covering his nose with his free hand.

“your breath stinks.”

it had been a couple of hours since heeseung had left home to go out with his friend. beomgyu was a year younger than you, and had made it increasingly obvious about the little crush he had on you.

you were flattered ofcourse, but being your little brothers friend, he was an immediate no. you did find him quite adorable, but in your eyes he just seemed like another younger brother to you— albeit less annoying.

you had just finished eating and was about to wash up when a ding and the vibration of your phone went off. you pick up your phone from the bench and turn it on, looking at the notification that lit up your screen.

an instagram message from wonwoo. you unlock your phone and open up the message to be greeted with a long paragraph of more information about the party for his friend that you were now going to be dj’ing at.

kwon soonyoung, you knew of him. soonyoung; or otherwise known as hoshi was a popular instagram influencer, and a well known underground ‘krnb’ artist. he gave you dean vibes if anyone were to ask you how you’d describe his music.

you were looking forward to this gig, being a small fan of his work and all. the party was planned to take place a week from today which meant you had work to do if you wanted to leave an impression on the partygoers. so you got to work.

“dude, i think i know my sister-“ heeseung says as he unlocks the door to your shared apartment, “she is so not interested in you.”

beomgyu sighs, knowing the inevitable. “like not even a slither of a chance?”

“no way.” the two boys enter the home and take off their shoes, making their way through the hallway and into the living room, where you sat on the ground infront of the couch.

your headset was plugged into your laptop and your eyes glued to the screen. beomgyu strides to the couch and takes a seat quite close to you, heeseung follows suit, throwing his feet on your shoulders as he sits down right behind you.

“hee, your socks reek.” heeseung rolls his eyes and gently kicks your shoulder as an act of pettiness. the two boys peer over your shoulders and watch you as you produce some new remixes for the upcoming party, incredibly stressed out.

beomgyu leans forward in curiousity, “where are you playing next?” he asks.

you remove your headset that was blasting music, turning toward the long haired male who was now inches away from your face. you cock an eyebrow asking him to repeat himself as the melodies were too loud in your eardrums to hear him the first time.

“oh, i was invited to play at a friend of a friend’s party.” calling wonwoo a friend felt awkward as it left your chapped lips, but it was the only thing you could describe the spectacled man as.

“you know hoshi?”

beomgyu and heeseung both perk up at the mention of the rhythm and blues singer, “you mean the one that works with producer woozi?” your brother asks, suddenly interested in your work for the first time.

you nod your head, placing your headset back on ready to continue your work as you only had less than a week to prepare. heeseung and beomgyu glance at each other in hopes you would be able to invite them with you, though you had no intention of doing so.

it’s the night of the party, and you’re clad in another skintight backless dress currently having a back and forth with your younger brother. “no hee, i’m not bringing you with me, you barely know anyone and neither do i.”

“that’s exactly why you should bring me, i’m company and in any case something goes wrong i’m right there with you!”

you roll your eyes at your brothers lame excuses and shake your head in disagreement, slipping on your black heels, you open the front door and walk outside to catch your uber, yelling out a quick and firm “no means no, nothing bad is going to happen and i’ll be home by 3am latest”.

the ride to the party was quiet, saying you were nervous would be an understatement. you’d never done a private gig before and especially not for someone with this much influence, though you couldn’t deny the offer— this would help your upcoming as seoul’s newest hottest dj.

the uber comes to a slow halt, you hop out of the black vehicle with a small thanks and strut to the front door of the two story house, the nerves kicking in.

upon opening the door, the loud music booms in your ears and you push through the intoxicated crowd, getting caught in between grinding couples once every five steps.

finally reaching the dj deck that was set up in the abnormally large lounging area, you scan the room for a familiar face, catching a glimpse of wonwoo speaking to the host of the party, hoshi.

you take a few more strides past dancing individuals and stand behind the taller men, tapping wonwoo on the shoulder.

wonwoo turns back to face you, throwing you a small smile. “hey, you made it,” he says.

you return his smile with your own and greet him with a small side hug, flashing a grin at the blonde haired male opposite you.

“hello, i’m soonyoung,” the blonde male extends his palm for a handshake which you return gratefully, responding with your own introduction.

“thanks for letting me play tonight, i really appreciate it,” soonyoung shakes his head and smiles at you widely.

“nah, thank you for accepting the offer, i’ve seen you around and you’re pretty good for a newcomer.”

you thank him and the three of you exchange small talk for the next couple of minutes before you feel a familiar sensation of needing to go to the toilet.

“where abouts is your bathroom?” soonyoung wraps his arm around your shoulder and guides you towards the restroom located at the other end of the house.

you thank the blonde male, and he offers to wait for you but you shoo him away, telling him not to worry and to go back to wonwoo.

as you twist the doorknob, the door opens from the opposite side and to your dismay, emerges an all too familiar face. your smile fades as you take in the appearance of your incredibly sexy, cheating ex-boyfriend. kim taehyung.

you must have a thing for the kim’s.

the two of you make eye contact, leaving you speechless. it had been a year since the two of you had even set foot in the same proximity, and your happiness is immediately overshadowed by the immense feeling of dejection.

you try to ignore the male, forcing your way past him and nudging his shoulder but he grabs your wrist as you pass him, spinning you to face him again.

“i miss you,” he whispers, but it was loud enough for you to clearly hear his deep voice. liar, all he does is lie.

you snatch your hand back, throwing him an intense glare and you shut the door in his gorgeous face. you were over him, so incredibly over him— but the sadness was still evident.

that man was your first love. in fact, he was the one who had introduced you to the life of dj’ing, as he was a well known dj himself.

mingyu walks into the party, accompanied by somi who was wrapped around his biceps. the couple push through the crowd and make their own way to the lounging area, greeting friends they knew.

“you’re here!” soonyoung says, pulling mingyu into a bear hug. the taller male grins at the main character of tonight’s event and ruffles his friends hair, the flowery shampoo filling mingyu’s nose.

“i wouldn’t miss your parties even if i was on the brink of death.”

soonyoung hands mingyu a cup of liquor, which he gladly accepts and takes a sip before handing the drink to somi.

the music that was blasting comes to a halt with the sound of the dj disc scratch, “are you ready to have some fucking fun?”

your voice booms through the microphone as you twist the discs of the dj deck, pressing a few buttons and playing your first track of the night.

mingyu looks up toward the lifted stage get-up as he hears your voice booming through the speakers. soonyoung throws his hands up in the air and yells a ‘fuck yeah’, following the crowd who was doing the same.

you stood there clad in a headset once again, spinning the disks as you mix tracks for the crowd to get hyped to, dancing drunk on liquor, the bass vibrating the walls, which you hoped were soundproof for the sake of the neighbours.

taehyung was at the back of your mind as you played, distracting you, and it didn’t help that he was staring holes into your forehead as he sat on the leather couch, only a few ten metres away from you.

remember when you said you were never drinking again? that was a lie, you needed some strong liquor right now to distract you from the distraction of him.

for the first time, you gladly accept drinks from the intoxicated men who had hoped to get under your dress, downing them one by one in hopes you’d be able to forget you had seen your ex-boyfriend for the first time since the breakup.

your set time was over, and your mind was all fuzzy, though not just from the liquor you had accepted. you didn’t know what it was but it wasn’t just intoxication from alcohol.

the music blasting was becoming muffled, and your vision was going blank as you felt hands on your body, guiding you to a secluded bedroom. you try to resist and push the male away you don’t recognise but your body felt weak, way weaker than it usually did.

you were scared, having some sense left in you.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you hear, and then the heavy weight of the unfamiliar male was lifted off you.

you open your eyes and see taehyung holding onto you, glaring at the man who had tried to take advantage of you only moments before. the male cowardly runs off leaving you with taehyung, who you wished to avoid the rest of tonight.

“are you a fucking idiot?” he exclaims, holding you up, “why do you just accept drinks left and right, you were almost fucking taken advantage of just now.”

you hated his voice, the concern in it especially. he wasn’t so worried about how you’d feel the night you walked in on him with another female in his bed.

“who are you to worry about me?” you slur, pushing him back away from you. the strength you had left over in your legs gave out, and taehyung leans forward to catch you.

your ex-boyfriend sighs in frustration, “come on, i’ll take you home.”

you shake your head no and with the last of your strength you push him away again, and you try to run away from him, but he grabs your wrist again in which you yell in pain. “get the fuck away from me!”

mingyu and somi were on their way to the bathroom, their hands all over eachother and ignoring those they bumped into on the way, but mingyu pulls away from her body when he hears your loud voice only a few steps away.

he looks towards your direction, where you’re actively pushing away taehyung and to him, he sees a helpless female and an aggressive male.

mingyu quickly rushes over to the two of you, ignoring somi who actively tries to stop him, and pulls you into his broad chest. he throws daggers toward taehyung, who glares back at him. “who are you?”

taehyung rolls his eyes, “who am i? i’m her ex, who the fuck are you?”

before mingyu could open his thin pink lips to respond, you lift up your hand to clench the sleeve of his tee that wrapped his biceps, making him look down at you.

he takes notice of your fast breathing and disheveled state, his blood boils as he realises what’s happened to you.

“did you spike her?” mingyu was angry, and this man barely ever felt that emotion. taehyung’s eyes widen at the accusation, vigorously shaking his head no, but mingyu didn’t care.

the man holding you was about to get violent, and with the little sobriety you had left in you, you grip his shirt tighter, now shaking your own head no.

“i just want to go home,” you whisper, your voice hoarse.

mingyu nods and gently holds you, asking you where your bag and phone was, which you inform him was with wonwoo at the deck.

somi was fuming, the sight of mingyu holding you with so much care in the world made her want to puke. “gyu, can’t you just leave her?”

mingyu looked back at somi with a shocked expression, “how can you just say that when someone you know can barely mutter a sentence under the influence of drugs she wasn’t aware she was given?” he continues to hold you as he guides you back toward his friends, slowly.

“how do you know she’s not just faking it?” somi exclaims, sure of the fact you were just seeking for attention from her man. at this point, mingyu was flabbergasted and had enough.

“find your own way home,” he spat.

“whoa, what happened?” wonwoo questions his roommate, who was grabbing your things in one hand while his other arm was occupated with holding onto you.

“i’m going to take her home.” wonwoo nods in understanding once seeing your state. soonyoung gasps once he realises what’s happened at his party, feeling guilty. mingyu assures his friend it’s not his fault, and not to worry about it.

the two of you make your way outside, the fresh breeze allowing you to breathe freely, and mingyu hands you a water bottle he claimed from the fridge in the kitchen on the way to the front door.

you sip the water slowly, eyes still drooping as mingyu asks you where you live, to which you don’t respond. you didn’t want to go home and allow heeseung to see you in such a state, knowing he’ll tell you he was right to come with you.

mingyu asks again, being patient with you. “i don’t want to go home.”

he shakes his head and tells you he has to get you home, and reaches for your phone in your bag that he held, which was once again flat.

the screen was unresponsive and the power button was pressed multiple times in attempts to turn it on, which it obviously does not.

mingyu had no choice but to order an uber to his own place.

the driver arrives in a silver car, and mingyu gently lifts you and walks you to the vehicle, careful to not shake you.

the ride is quiet, mainly because you were snoring softly with your head on his shoulders, your arms wrapped around his bicep in comfort and hair sticking to the sides of your face because of the sweat.

mingyu pushes your hair behind your ear with his free hand, gently as to not wake you until the drive was complete.

taglist: @mochami-mochi @gyuwoosbabie @minmangyu

[poopyballz28]

Some Baki characters as middle school kids

wrote this a long while ago, but i tweaked it and now im ready to show it off

remember to like and subscribe

Kozue

• She's a pretty quiet and timid girl, she doesn't have many friends, and she's usually seen alone with her iPod and headphones in (listening to Vocaloid songs i just know i am the writer here i make the decisions)

• Some girls are definitely envious of her beauty, like she is PRETTY pretty. I wonder what hair products she uses...knowing her though, it'd be silly if she just had naturally flowy, beautiful hair.

• Probably has been asked out by boys several times, she's really cute and has an adorable personality, it's pretty inevitable. She never understands why they like her so much though.

• Always randomly zoning off in the middle of class, looking out the window. Her few friends are a bit concerned but are aware of her lost in the clouds type attitude.

• Forgets to do her homework a lot. Her grades and performance are very good, and that's a definite, but she's just incredibly forgetful. She just gets home and doesn't remember if she has anything to do. She just immediately turns on some anime or pulls out some Shonen Jump when she gets home.

• These hc's are just...my normal hc's for her. Curses. Whatever, it still applies here, DO NOT DEFY ME

Jack

• Really reserved and quiet, most of the class is really intimidated by him. Just the way he talks and looks at you with a death glare. It freaks everyone out.

• He's kind of a target for bullying because of how to himself and a bit scary he is, but he doesn't care and doesn't plan to do anything about it. They're always too daunted to insult him to his face. Jack focuses his time on getting stronger, not some losers making fun of him.

• Often scolded for never doing or turning in his work. He just feels he has better things to do. When he does do his work though, he's not exactly the best. His worksheets are surprisingly (or perhaps, unsurprisingly) filled with scribbles and rough little doodles.

• He doesn't really have many "friends", but one immune to his flaws is Kureha. He acts as if Jack is a friend he's known for ages, despite them only meeting during the current school year. He tends to hang out with him and help him out with his homework as well, because lets be real, Jack's grades are not looking too hot.

• The whole class thinks it's strange how out of everyone in the class, those two are the ones who are closest.

• Kureha definitely insists he do some small science experiments on Jack, Jack only complying if it leads to the growth of him getting stronger. It's like a mad scientist and his test subject, except two 12 year olds.

Katsumi

• He's a really popular student. He's attractive (in middle school standards), strong, leader of his own karate club and his dad's the principal of the school. He's almost always surrounded by people wanting to talk or hang out with him.

• Many girls have huge crushes on him, he usually has to let them down though. He's really focused on his karate and fighting and just doesn't particularly want any kind of lover. He's much more interested in running his club than young love. He values friendship more than anything.

• Always urging strong kids to join the karate club. He wants to expand his club as far as possible and spar with anyone worthy. He focuses so much on his club and karate his grades unfortunately suffer. You can't blame him though, everyone in the karate club is really close with each other and it's really endearing how its almost like a big family of middle schoolers in there.

• He's a really smart kid, and is able to excel in a lot of subjects, but he gets the most significant grades in PE class specifically.

• Hangs out with Hector quite a bit, they are almost polar opposites of each other, but hang out anyway. They're always seen doing homework or eating lunch together. He's one of Hector's only friends.

• Also really looks up to Kiyosumi, he thinks his strength and confidence is super admirable. Currently in the middle of trying to get him to join the karate club. He's somewhat becoming more of a delinquent because of how much Kiyosumi is rubbing off on him.

Kiyosumi

• He's 100% a delinquent who chills at the back of the school and likes to skip his classes. He's well liked by his delinquent disciples who think his fighting is radical.

• He has been suspended multiple times for starting fights and beating up kids for looking at him wrong. He wants any excuse to hurt someone or show off his fighting.

• He's avoided by normal kids in the school but swarmed by other delinquents and juveniles. He's a super cool figure for them. He's just popular enough for Katsumi to take notice.

• Despite the fact there are always students who praise him, he's a very lonely kid. He acknowledges the fact that the people who swarm him don't care about him as a person at all, they just like the idea of a leader with cool fighting abilities. As much as they make his ego swell, they wont be able to purge his hatred for others or even aid his loneliness. No matter how much euphoria will course through his veins and throughout his mind after defeating somebody, that empty feeling will always come barreling back in the end. He would never let anyone know that though. Never.

• That got deep. Wait till you guys find out that was also just a general headcanon for him. Anyway, Kiyosumi fucking LOVES workshop class. He will not skip that shit. This kid has a passion for cars and motorcycles (go figure)

• Katsumi decided to duel with Kiyosumi behind the school, but ended up getting his shit rocked and went flying into some garbage cans. Kiyosumi, (trying to be cool) hits him with a "Beat it, kid." but Katsumi stood up and immediately ushered him to join the karate club after falling victim to his strength.

• Surprisingly, Kiyosumi's grades aren't all that bad. His downfall is just that he always skips or doesn't do his work at all even though he's strangely intelligent (to an extent, of course)

Retsu

• He's a really quiet kid who's undoubtedly diligent at his work. He doesn't know many people besides Katsumi and a few others.

• You can easily find him in the back of the class studying or reading a book. People look up to how smart he is, he's top of his class. Although he does tend to burn himself out a bit.

• Really passionate in cooking class, he loves making some Chinese dishes with the few ingredients he's provided. Tends to ignore teacher directions so he can make what he wants to.

• A member of the karate club (by Katsumi's request) even though he uses a whole different fighting style. After Katsumi sparred with Retsu and lost, they've been friends and have been training together ever since.

• It's quite shocking to other students how this quiet kid who is usually just reading in the back of the class is such a strong and confident fighter. I imagine many kids watched the fight between Katsumi and him, and he's gained unwanted notoriety for his win. He tried to keep his fighting life on the down low and focus on grades.

• He definitely gets rebellious and immature sometimes, don't get me wrong. Katsumi had him open up a little, and now he's more free with his fighting (even though real battles aren't allowed on school grounds) He isn't afraid to spar with someone if they initiate it, school grounds or not. This kid just really wants to kick some tail.

Hector

• Quite the mysterious kid, usually just sitting and watching the view from outside the classroom windows with a blank expression. He's not at all unfamiliar with others talking behind his back or bullying him.

• Stays quiet when he's bullied in somewhere public but if he's ever assaulted alone or off of school grounds, that bully will probably be found with some pretty gnarly knife wounds.

• He doesn't seem to be interested in many things, or even passionate in his grades at all. It's almost like he's there because he has to be.

• He's always showing up to school with nicks or bruises. It's not entirely clear how he gets them or why they appear so frequently, but they certainly don't go unnoticed by others. They don't seem to bother him very much though.

• What I can say for certain though is that this kid is pretty fucking disturbed. Brought a pocket knife to school and shanked someone pretty badly. He was suspended soon after and rumors started to multiply and spread across the playground.

• Tends to run into Retsu by accident and gets partner assignments with him by pure chance. It was extremely awkward the first few times but they both realized they probably need to get used to each others company. They've surprisingly gotten close, Retsu wanting to understand the mystery behind Hector and why he's alone all of the time. Although some of Retsu's prying or questions make Hector a bit nervous. (definitely some home issues going on)

• He also likes being around Katsumi as well. Though, "like" is a strong word, for him at least. Like Retsu, Katsumi also wants to understand Hector. He thinks he's just misunderstood and makes an effort to talk to him even if some of their views on things are vastly different.

Kosho

• Trademark emo/edgy nervous kid who keeps to himself. He's a little bit of a crybaby, frankly.

• He really likes to draw, you may be able to catch him doodling some cool vkei clothing designs in his notebook. He's pretty embarrassed about them though, he always covers the pages when he thinks someones looking.

• Throughout all of his seemingly timid nature, its clear that some deep issues and hate are slowly brewing inside of him. The overshadowing from his brother and the teasing over his interests are not helping him in that regard either.

• Sometimes gets into small altercations with kids who like to poke fun at him. Kosho really struggles to stand up for himself but whenever he happens to find the courage to, his brother is always a step ahead and ready to protect him. After he deals with that, he proceeds to lecture Kosho about getting into fights and how he should go study for his math quiz next week.

• As much as Kosho loves his brother he wishes he would just...leave him alone sometimes.

• Was able to make friends with Katsumi due to their liking of karate and Katsumi's overall kindness after seeing Kosho sitting alone all of the time. The two have gotten pretty close.

[the-writing-mobster]

Where I can read your fics? They seem pretty interesting!

Thank you for the ask, love! Fic links, anyone?

You can find all of my fics on Ao3! I need to make an actual like... Official link post, don't I? I used to have one pinned but other things take priority.

So I guess I'll sprinkle the links to my fics here for your immediate viewing pleasure instead of sending you on a wild goose chase ;)

IMPORTANT NOTE — A lot of my fics are locked so only people with confirmed AO3 accounts can read them. This is because of AI scraping, obvs. TMDG is the only one that I think is unlocked since it's fairly new. But it'll eventually get locked as well.

~

| The What Do You Want Duology | 🥀 💀 |

(YWIW, the sequel, still lies unfinished, unfortunately, but WDYW is completed and currently under revisions!)

Summary (for those still not in the know):

Frisk spent most of her life fighting to survive in a cruel world where her only upper hand was her soul's Determination and her feminine charms. After angering the most dangerous man in her life, she is thrown down into Hell to be ripped apart and destroyed by the demons said to inhabit it. With her soul refusing to give up, of course she survives.

However, when she is taken hostage by the infamous Gaster brothers, she finds herself trapped in the strange, abyssal gaze of Sans the Skeleton. With political and sexual tensions on the rise, can these two work through their differences? Or will they forever be asking each other, "What Do You Want?"

—

| Baby Face - UF Highschool AU | 💖 🤘🏻 |

Technically an au based off of my characterizations of the UF characters in wdyw. This one is tooth rottingly sweet and set in a surface Ebbott City in the 90s. Inspo was movies like Clueless & the documentary Kid 90. I actually loved this story so much I completely reworked it and turned it into an original novel.

Important to note that this fic isn't really a romance. It's more about platonic love and friendships than it is about Frans romance.

Summary:

Seniors should not date freshmen. No matter what. Not even if the freshman is hot. Not even if the freshman says it's ok. Not even if the freshman makes moves. That’s the mantra Sans lives by, and even though Frisk, one of the cutest girls according to all of his friends, catches a crush of epic proportions on him, he makes it a point to keep his distance. She’ll thank him later.

Or

Sans is in a rock band and Frisk has a big ole unrequited crush on him.

—

| The Most Dangerous Game | 💙 🔪 💔 |

The dreaded serial killer dead dove fic we've all been raving about recently!!!

It's important to note that this one isn't a romance. They are (albeit obsessive) enemies through and through.

Summary:

Frisk Starling should've been used to cases like these. After all, it was her duty to investigate. Give the victims their voice back, catch the sick freak who did it and give the broken families the justice she couldn’t have for herself.

That is until a string of murders throughout the tristate area begin to appear. Women used like toys, mutilated and disposed of for the cops and journalists to find with only the tiniest slivers of useless evidence and the glaring fact that all the women...

Every…

Single…

One…

Look almost exactly like her… Frisk begins to wonder if maybe… the monster she's hunting down has turned her into the hunted.

And God, does she make the most exhilarating, delicious prey yet…

—

Honorable mention One Shots:

| The Witch, The Judge & the 3 Card Gamble | ♠️♥️♣️ |

Probably my best prose ever. Genuinely.

Summary:

After suffering a gruesome bullet to the ribs, the vengeful Witch hovers over a dying fire, praying her campsite isn’t spotted by vagabonds who’d surely make her pay for existing…

But as a shadow blots out the stars if not for the two red pricks of light glaring her down, she fears her true nightmares have come to claim her after all; The Grim Reaper, the judge of her fate.

And she doesn’t like her odds.

—

| We'll See - Christmas Rom Com | 🎄 💕 |

I wrote this as a secret Santa present to @themsource. It is very cute and fucking funny if I do say so myself. It puts the comedy in Romantic Comedy.

Summary:

Sans has some inhibitions about Christmas, clouded with cynicism and bitterness. But if there's anyone to make him have a change of heart, it's Frisk; Ebbot City's own Little Miss Mother Teresa.

—

☣️ HONORABLE MENTION SMUT ONE SHOTS ☣️

| French Kisses | Smut | 🫧💓 |

Summary: Sans has landed a well-paying position as a senior accountant and Frisk has a few ideas on how to reward him — one of those ideas involves a French Maid dress.

| The Librarian's Assistant | Smut | 📚💓 |

This one was pretty steamy...

Summary: Frisk's days working as a librarian can get pretty quiet and repetitive... Until a new patron with an obvious infatuation with her starts becoming a regular visitor.

Eventually she can't help herself...

.

.

.

I hope you are satisfied with my thorough answer! If you do end up reading, I'd love to hear from you again on your thoughts! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

‼️ Also — join my discord for readily available updates and fun discussion! DM me for the invite since those invite links expire ‼️

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

HOTD 1x10: Daemon Targaryen

People are only thinking with their feelings. They need to analyse the entire episode, and previous episodes with an objective eye. To their defence, it’s true that many Daemon scenes were cut out this season. 

But let’s not forget that Daemon was the one holding everything together in that episode even when he himself was falling apart, grieving his brother and his daughter that the Greens took away from him.

A tragedy is the destruction of something beautiful. For this very reason, I think the show has not invested enough on loving moments between Rhaenyra and Daemon after they get married. Their best moment was 16 years before. So I guess we do need 13 episodes for season one.

Let’s not forget that Rhaenyra never wanted to change Daemon. She loves him for who he is. Rhaenyra literally persuaded him to stay in Westeros and get married for him to fight for her throne and their family, and that’s what he’s doing.

Unfortunate as it was, it made sense for his character to react as he did. Rhaenyra even said Madness had taken him earlier in the episode, because he wouldn’t go to her while she was giving birth. He focused on plotting his war because he was emotion wreck. He doesn’t show his emotions on the outside, but keeps it bottled up. The most we saw were teary eyes and his violent outburst against his wife.

We only see Daemon be physical with her once, which I can argue suggests this was the first time he ever did that, due to how shocked Rhaenyra was. Now, if he never touches her like that again in future seasons, then we can argue it was one time thing that he regretted. He was about to cry afterwards.

Hell, I’m kinda suspecting that was also the reason he went to Vermithor. He could have been borderline suicidal. Or just so cocky that he didn’t care about dying, so long as he got the second largest dragon used to human again.

Everything he does is for family. But he isn’t a good, moral man. He hurt her because he thought she is going to become like Viserys, a weak ruler unable to crush rebellion. He lost a brother, a daughter, learned his brother didn’t trust him enough to tell him about the prophecy, and thought his wife was contemplating bending the knee. The hot-headed man needs to fight for his wife, name and pride but she wants to preserve the realm because of a freaking dream?

After Rhaenyra smiled and mocked him with « he didn’t tell you », given how agitated he was, it was a miracle he didn’t do anything more drastic. Or maybe, he wanted for her to react or kiss him or hit him in retaliation. One simple thing would have made them on equal footing while keeping the essence of their relationship intact. Can you imagine episode 1-5 young Rhaenyra would have taken shit from Daemon without retaliating? No. 

I do ship them. But they are human, and humans make mistakes. I can understand the reason he laid his hands on her, in a moment of utter weakness born from loss, stress, anger, and fear that she was going to bow before the people who Daemon believes murdered his brother, and possibly thinks just murdered his daughter due to the stress Rhaenyra just suffered.

We also saw that when he learned about Luke, he hesitantly approached her, held her hand to comfort her, and she looked at him not in anger, fear, or resentment, but sorrow. The ending shows them holding hands. They still love each other, even after they fight. What I do fear is character assassination.

I do not, and will not, condone his actions, but I do understand why it came to that.

I just hope the show doesn’t destroy their relationship going forward. So much trauma and tragedy is about to unfold. Having Daemon and Rhaenyra remain in love until the bitter end would be a small light in the dark. Now, if in season two they change the whole relationship into an abusive one, that will ruin his character, ruin everything they set up in season one. He has many faults. He is grey. he kills for his family, but he is not immune to weakness. I can forgive and forget him hurting her in that one scene, as you can see the hurt in his eyes afterwards. The way the show portrays them, having pined fro each for over 15 years… I don’t know, it would disappoint me immensely.

They already meet such tragic ends, having them remain in love with other would be one small token of light.

So yes, that’s my rambling current thoughts. Hoping I’m not to repetitive, but I had to let out those out of my chest. It’s 4:47am, Bonsoir.

[bigtittiecomitte]

Idea for a fanfic that’ll never happen bc I can’t write

I was thinking about a fic where it features the past, present AND future

Past:

It starts off with Nori as the main character, she was an ordinary worker drone just doing what she was commanded too until she has a sense of reality and decides to rebel by protesting against the humans. That’s when she meets Khan and they hit it off instantly, forming a relationship

Nori and Khan make the workers begin to hate the humans and soon they all rebel and have lives of their own. Khan and a few others build a little town for the workers, that includes a daycare where couples can have kids

Eventually Khan and Nori get married and have Uzi, living their lives until a few years later where Nori starts seeing visions of the future, she didn’t mind until she started activating her absolute solver

Nori kept this quiet, she started drawing pictures of her visions and begged for Khan to build a door

As Khan was doing this, Uzi was getting in trouble at school, biting people and just being herself (which people hates so much smh)

Nori and a bunch of others were sent to a lab after the humans found out, Nori and Yeva were already besties so while Yeva was freaking out about this, Nori was having the time of her life

Unfortunately Nori gained an enemy, Alice grrrr 🦭

Nori goes insane and begins destroying the lab, she helped Yeva out bc besties but left everyone there to be in despair

Afterwards one night the murder drones attack, the doors were not stable enough and people died, including Nori and Doll’s parents

Khan had to end Nori’s suffering, with a lot of guilt he goes back home, Uzi walking in and asking where Nori is, Khan giving no response

Present:

This takes place after Murder Drones, where N was able to help Uzi and stuff happened

Uzi is the main character this time. her and N begin living together after she finishes school

N works as a teacher for young drones, teaching them about dog breeds like the boss he is while Uzi helps the wdf with weapons and also makes cool prosthetics

Eventually N proposes which Uzi immediately said yes and they had a wedding Yippeeeee

Few years later, N and Uzi decide that they want kids so after surprising Khan he immediately sets them up for a baby who they name Biscuit (N’s idea)

Fun family time until N and Uzi decide they want two more kids so hey they get two more kids (I will stand for Colt and Akay until I die)

Nothing much rlly happens in the present, just N and Uzi starting their family life

Future:

This focuses on N and Uzi’s only daughter and youngest child, Akay

Akay is a lot like Nori in a way, a party girl who isn’t afraid to embarrass herself (thanks to having N as a dad)

Ever since she was born she had to cover up her tail (completely forgot to mention but I think that just so N doesn’t feel embarrassed or sadness for being the only drone with a tail, Uzi made a tail for Colt and Akay) just so she doesn’t hurt anyone with it

Akay met a drone who owns a gardening store with fake plants, Akay instantly fell in love with her and uh lesbians yahoo

Anyways in the future N and Uzi grow old (technically just Uzi but N wanted to grow old with her so he tried making himself look old)

Their kids have kids and life is good

UNTIL UZI DIES 😦😦

As Akay was going to go visit N, she sees N laying dead while holding Uzi, his body hot from overheating

N did leave a letter for his kids and gave them instructions on what to do yet

They gave a bunch of possessions to their kids and grandkids (including a book about how to make a disassembly drone tail bc why not they look cool)

Soon a funeral was held and N and Uzi were buried in one grave, no one dared to seperate them

Akay went on to make a book about her parents lives, sparing no detail

And hey thanks to N and Uzi, the doorman family is still growing strong even in idk 5000

Wasn’t that great? Too bad it’ll never be written hehehehehehehcudwpsjchsk

[kafkaguy]

my dear esteemed friend & colleague can you tell me a bit about torksmith... my layman's impression is that a. peter tork is an angel b. mike nesmith is even taking into account the extenuating circumstances ie the horror show that is the average workday of a Monkee kind of an asshole so i feel like i have more than a few puzzle pieces missing..

gerry you would not believe how crazy this makes me okay i don't even know how to explain it you. okay listen

the thing about Peter and Mike is that their role in the monkees was the same: they were The Musicians, the guys who knew what they were doing when it came to instruments and songwriting and performing and had capital E Experience with that side of things. they were the most frustrated with the monkees situation and The Horrors etc. Peter in the sense that he was a free spirit with TONS of musical talent and classical training but was bullied in particular, mostly because The Powers That Be thought he couldn't sing (untrue) and also was a hippie freak who didn't deserve nice things, and Mike in the sense that he was hot headed and a genuinely talented songwriter with Every Disorder who just was full of hatred and always had somewhere better to be. and Neither Of Them Signed Up For This! like literally they didn't know they wouldn't be allowed to play their own music until AFTER they'd signed the contract.

unfortunately, instead of this bringing them together and having them make out sloppy style about it, it's generally believed that this just caused more tension between them because despite the fact that Everything About Them aligned perfectly with each other, it didn't align perfectly *enough* and there were enough differences in personality and beliefs that there was a lot of friction between them. but i do believe they still made out sloppy style about it, just with a lot more tension.

Mike, being the grade A insecure asshole that he was who probably suffered from proximity envy of Peter and was maybe a little threatened by him, decided to make Peter's experience worse. normal! he's the epitome of the post that's like "guy who is attracted to another guy and decides to psychosexually torture him about it". this insane mike interview quote sums it up really nicely. Still can't believe he said all that. In 1972.

Peter IS an angel but i don't think he was innocent in all this, but it *is* disproportionate in that there's a lot more recorded instances of Mike being a horrible freak than Peter, BUT there's this 1982 moment which makes me LOSE my mind he is so Ex Wife Coded here. He was a bitch at times and good for him because there's a lot of accounts that say mike would sometimes make life pretty miserable for him. BUT on the flip side mike was also really nice to him which is what makes it so crazy! in like, early 1966 or whatever, when they were filming the pilot, Peter lived with mike and phyllis nesmith ! mike let peter live with him! for like, a good couple of months! and in the early early days when Peter was asked who he got along best with, Peter said mike, because of how nice living together was! Im holding a gun in my shaking hands. AND there's another story of mike insisting that Peter get to play guitar on one of their early tracks when everything was done by studio musicians, and AGAIN later when Peter was told he wasn't allowed to sing on their record, mike was the one who stood up for him! whats that all about!

i think there's a lot of factors to their weird rivalry. a lot of it comes from the two of them but also other parties, like its pretty common knowledge that the Big Producers, bob rafelson in particular, were like. Stirring shit up and keeping it "interesting", like the whole thing was a social experiment to them. the point for me is that they had their On Again and Off Again eras, and it's pretty well documented. sometimes you can tell from a press conference or a music video or a photo if it was during a period that they loved each other or that they hated each other, and it's all over the place because THEY were all over the place. the most married era was the 1980s when mike joined them for the reunion, particularly 1989. this press tour conference video. please watch from the 6:40 timestamp. "who's your favourite monkee" "peter" <- not a seconds hesitation fuck my entire life . What did he mean by this.

anyway if you want to see more, my monkees sideblog comrademonkee has some good stuff in my #Peter & mike tag. and then there's my pinterest board for photographic proof. if u even care. my esteemed mutual and president of torksmith, tumblr user levon, is currently making a torksmith timeline master doc and you will ALL be seeing that as soon as its done because i will never shut up about it . so there you have it. im REALLY Normal about these people I PROMISE. This is all purely academic.

[eevylynn]

Gay people are NEVER HETERONORMATIVE JESUS FUCKING CHRIST STOP SPREADING HOMOPHOBIC BULLSHIT

FEMININE QUEER MEN ARE NOT HETERONORMATIVE FUCK YOU??!

I did not feel that I was spreading homophobic anything, but if you felt that way, I do apologize. However, thanks for opening up this line of conversation, anon.

If we are going to talk about the specific instance when I used the word "heteronormative", let's do this.

I was talking about a FICTIONAL CHARACTER.

I have always, and will always, discuss characters. I try not to discuss how real life people express themselves, their gender, or their sexuality because that is no one's business but their own. Hard stop on that accusation, dear.

Forcing a canonically non-feminine male character to be more feminine when put into a gay relationship with a larger, alpha-male type is unfortunately a common a result of misogynistic heteronormative bias that is present in a great many people even if they don't always realize it. It reminds me a lot like the old homophobic questions I heard a lot growing up: "Who's the man in the relationship? Who's the woman?"

Is that always the case? No, but it's common enough to warrant mentioning and remembering when in fandom discussions. I myself have suffered from similar biasedness in the past, but I have learned from it and worked to move past it. We all have biases we didn't realize we had previously; it's an unfortunate fact of life.

Anyway...

Specifically, what I was talking about in the conversation being referenced: Stiles Stilinski is not feminine. He is a hot mess express. He is an adorable, lean, almost 6 ft tall asshole who cares only for those he deems worthy of caring for. Yes, he's a bit of a control freak, who tends to take on the parental role with everyone he cares for, but that's due to TRAUMA. None of that equals feminine.

A great many people seem to make him smaller, daintier, and more feminine because it makes a good contrast with Derek who just looks like the stereotypical large, muscular Alpha-male (and was a literal Alpha for a bit there). Physically, they are almost the same height. In later seasons, Stiles is even noticeably thicker than he was in earlier in the series (and honestly isn't that far off from Derek tbh).

All of that being said:

Does this mean I hate reading fics or looking at art with this being the case? No, I fucking love them.

Do I send the creators hate because they interpret the Sterek relationship a different way than I do? Hell no.

However, I am on tumblr to have fandom discussions, and ultimately this is how I feel about what I've noticed in joining the fandom so late.

[candyredmusings]

“Another One Of Those ‘Things My Discord Said’ Sentence Starters.

Things taken from DMs and a few group chats from Discord. CW: NSFT Change / Edit as necessary !

i am literally tom cruise

cum is cool.

[NAME]  is fucked up cus he is straight man

[NAME]  show me your fuckin tits

[NAME], you better not be standing catatonic in your room wearing your handmade jigsaw robe again.

its like they creampied me but instead of cum it was new music

like what about my pussy-area makes u think sea cucumber

the mind is weak. but the body is funky

so im reading that fanfic where 1d like, buys your soul or whatever and im shook

well tom servo is a sex god

and then i freaked it

FUCK YOU APPLE JACK FUCK

ILL SLURP WITH YOU

LEMME SHOW U DICK

ITS A SIDE QUEST YOU SILLY BITCH

I’m a zombie the law can’t stop me

LEAVE YOUR GOLDEN UNCRUSTABLES OUT OF MY HOME I WILL NOT FALL VICTIM TO THY TRICKERY

you, telling me to ignore a twink with side swept brown hair? foolish.

Hes so hot i briefly started texting like a straight person

and because I’m god and I’ve decided that. No. In fact. I’m not done.

MY DUMB BOTTOM BRAIN FOLLOWS COMMANDS TOO WELL

[NAME], I know you love bloopy reggae jams. Now is not the time

OH THATS WHAT I THOUGHT YOUD SAY YOU STUPID ACCIDENTAL HIMBO DEMON

man i rlly am attracted to paul mccartney.

its not that kennedy was gay af sleeping w jackies fat ass out, he just has a better one-

jealous of my massive honkeers

YOU BRAINCELLED BITCH

this forced open my third eye and i saw the devil--

oh me seeming romantically interested in u is making u uncomfortable?? noted

the only pussy this party city shake out wig looking mother fucker is getting

[NAME]  expose your teeth right fucking now

IN THE DEPARTMENT OF OLD MAN FUCKING, WEVE GOT YOU BEAT

What if we kissed while one of us got called racist and we are both boys

i just jacked it to minecraft piss porn

I will pop a huge tentacle boner

i hate females fr fr

we left u to die to play minecraft

IM GONNA FRICKLE-FRACK YOUR WIFE

CAN I KARATE CHOP IT LIKE IN SPONGEBOB

DWIGHT FROM THE OFFICE IS NOT MY SKRUNKLY

she would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

My brother in Christ you’re being haunted

i want to wring you like a wet towel and slap u against a wall

Yeah you'll come to learn I just have a thing for milk

Piss ur pants harder pls I wanna watch

I'm gonna corn on the kill myself

good morning to parappa and his stans. everyone else..... hi ig

lol look at this clown with no slurs

God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

this is how I reveal myself to be homophobic

I have no sluts

idk what it is abt it but boba makes me become like an actual whore

im homophobic suddenly

he was like ‘You're so big”.... and i just started crying

anyones penis can be hard hes not special

for the love of god please help me

i can talk about piss for hours

im sorry i havent recognized mickey mouse clubhouse ost as the cultural landmark that it is

I ASKED IF WE WOULD RP AFTER FUCKING BIBLE STUDY OR WHATEVER

the benefits of being a yandere is that i dont have to forgive OR forget and I am a living breathing PVP zone so Fuck with me white boy.

When toxic by ashnikko comes on I enter the gaslight gatekeep phases of my girlbosshood

im like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

[NAME] is just all fucking Sorts of fucked up

im clownfaking

why are we here? to suffer? every other day i get messages from a whore

always thinking abt when my friend called me a "white boy whore"

you gotta PUMP the errand girl with cocaine

im beyond shame bc i love all cock try again

people have fetishes.

They really do crucify anyone these days huh

u may have never hungered for cock but you have hungered for a sub sandwich and honestly? theyre basically the same thing-

hi im drawing hentai

[NAME] idk why but that really. makes me want to stab you

“Don't have sex FOMO, [NAME], no! “

“TRY AND NUKE THIS, BITCH.”

“There's a group of golden skeletons behind you hitting the griddy “

“GRANDPA’S ASHES SUCKED MY COCK AND TOOK ME TO ARBYS.”

“You’re lanky with no gender and silly goofy with the rizz it works.”

“You can’t just tell me I could be a Tumblr sexy man to my face at 4:30 PM.”

"I have strong opinions about the soviet union"

“CALL THAT PUSSY THE MATRIX CAUSE IM IN THIS BITCH AND I CANT GET OUT “

“dont cry. 8000 types of reptiles on the planet, okay?”

[NAME] lives his life like he’s an RPG character but picks only the rude dialogue options.”

“I need to beat off to this before God destroys California.”

"No amount of pussy could get me on a rollercoaster with three loops"

"I love your senior citizen pussy"

"Gerber is pretty reliable .. I mean .. The Gerber baby didn't die .... did it?"

“you are white i assume”

"I hate you terrorist, and you may quote me on that"

"I love watching you play minecraft. It's like watching a baby fawn."

"I've never seen old men who fuck harder."

"i don't need him to KILL i need him to FUCK ME"

"well maybe if you just dicked down your wife she wouldn't have gone on a murderous slut rampage"

"why cant these BIG titty bimbos stop HANGING around me"

[catboydogma]

lay on, lay on, lay on

day 1 prompts: wings, pining

cross-posted to ao3 + codywan week22 masterlist ! 

wc: 1423

tags: cuddling, fluff

“Commander,” the General said. His voice was quiet with sleep but as distinct as if they were standing at a holotable strategizing. “If you do not move in the next two clicks, I shall shove my boot so far up your arse that Wolffe shall feel it.”

Cody blinked awake. A lurching sense of vertigo accompanied the pitch dark pressing in on all sides. He was warm and slightly sweaty and something smelled like dried grass and deciduous-sweet sap.

Ah.

He lifted an arm and turned onto his back once more. The General wiggled back with a groan. He threw out a hand to stop himself from toppling off the narrow cot and nearly tipped the entire thing over in the process.

“I can sleep on the ground,” Cody said for the twelfth time in the last eight hours. He could sleep outside, even. He could go take a few watch shifts. He could even muscle his way into the nearest tent, which happened to contain five-odd Lieutenants. He could sleep anywhere that wasn’t here.

“It’s too cold out.” The General sighed and there was a feathery flump. “If you open the flap now, you’ll freeze to death. The same goes for the ground, unfortunately.”

Cody could see indistinct shapes now: his vision was sharper than a baseline Human’s and there were two moons out tonight. The General had one massive wing awkwardly pinned beneath him and the other spilling off the edge of the GAR-issue fold-up cot. It was the only such cot that was used in the 212th Battalion, as far as Cody knew, because the General was the only such person in the 212th that happened to come with an extra pair of appendages that made sleeping on the ground or in a bedroll near impossible.

The problem with this situation was twofold. First: a sudden and intense cold snap had necessitated consolidation and redistributing of supplies, ie the sharing of tents to prevent freezing one’s balls off. Second: Cody’s bedroll had, earlier this rotation, suffered in a tragic freak accident that rendered it unusable. He had thought nothing of it when the swarm of omnivorous, sharp-beaked birds had attempted to swarm them before the General had warned them off with a truly terrifying rattle-shriek that was even still bouncing around in the back of his head. Cody was no stranger to roughing it and he’d slept on more grounds of more planets than he’d had hot meals.

Unfortunately for at least two people involved, this meant that the ground was somehow both freezing and soaking wet. Even with the waterproofing that the tent ostensibly provided. Fortunately, the General was provided a tent of his own by dint of rank and aforementioned species-specific physiology.

This would not have been a problem if Cody did not, as Wolffe so tenderly put it, have a massive boner for Jedi High General Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Sorry.” Cody lay on his back with one hand on his chest and the other firmly tucked under a thigh. It had started to drizzle. Light patters of sound fuzzed in the background like static feedback. Someone in a tent to the East was snoring loud enough to resurrect Prime.

He could stand. Cody was good at standing. He could stand for hours, in fact, in full kit and maybe that was just what he needed to do—

The General sighed quietly and turned onto his stomach so he could fold one wing to his back and stretch the other out. Cody turned his head to look at him and found that the General was already looking. The whites of his eyes gleamed faintly.

“Don’t be,” the General said, wings shuffling with a quiet susurrus. The flash of his teeth as he spoke matched the flash of the creamy white bars at the tips of his primaries and secondaries. His General’s wings were similar to that of an owl’s and were meant for gliding and swooping. They were a tawny auburn a shade cooler than his General’s hair and were almost twice Cody’s own arm span and taller than a clone trooper when folded.

“I don’t mind if—”

“I don’t mean to—” Cody shut his mouth with a click. General Kenobi was still just looking at him, mouth half open and hair falling in a shadowy puddle on the cot below him. The General had ceded the blanket to him, citing that his wings and heightened metabolism would keep him warm. This close, Cody could see the fine tremble in his General’s primaries wasn’t his breathing but a barely-suppressed shiver. He drew the blanket up and settled it over the both of them. Cody’s own warmth was more than enough for the both of them.

“My wing fell asleep,” the General said. He had his head still pillowed on one arm but the other was curled against his side, fingers slightly splayed and nearly brushing Cody’s shoulder. “And you wouldn’t respond to bribery nor appeals to your better nature.”

“I don’t have a better nature,” Cody automatically said.

“I suspect that’s due to all of your nature being better than most,” Obi-W—the General said. His voice was warm and quiet. It was unbearably intimate and Cody realized, belatedly, that their faces were centimeters apart: that his General’s eyelashes brushed Cody’s brow when he blinked. “I’m sorry for waking you. I suspect you already know, but you’re a cuddler in your sleep, Cody. It’s endearing, really.”

What Cody wouldn’t give for the ability to spontaneously implode.

“I don’t mean to crowd you.” Cody found himself matching the General’s tone. It felt hard not to when he was sleepy and warm and his General was right there, wings falling and rising with each measured breath and—

“You never do,” Obi-Wan said. He shifted to nudge the side of his pinky against Cody’s shoulder, hand still splayed across the rough fabric of the cot. “You aren’t. I feel like I’m the one crowding you.”

“No,” Cody immediately said. “You don’t.” Obi-Wan’s wings were large enough that the man—already tall and lanky—took up more room than a trooper even in full gear but he was always circumspect about his surroundings, courteous and attentive and—

Obi-Wan exhaled, slow and quiet. Cody’s attention was arrested by the sudden fall of his hair across Obi-Wan’s forehead. They were both stripped to undersuit and undertunic, respectively, and Cody was starting to feel the warmth of Obi-Wan’s skin seeping through. They weren’t touching other than the pinky Obi-Wan had nudged up against Cody’s deltoid. He’d had more contact with his General—carrying or being carried, sheltering from blast radii, crashing together when a lartie got hit—but this felt different. Worse. Better. More. Cody felt like his entire body was a livewire attuned to the sound of Obi-Wan’s breathing and the graceful sweep of his wing curving to the line of his spine.

“We might have more room if we were to… consolidate,” Obi-Wan said after a moment. They could only keep up pretenses for so long. Cody was caught in Obi-Wan’s orbit, or maybe it was the other way around, and the drag of him felt like the sink of a gravity well.

“I’m not going to lay on top of you,” Cody immediately said. Obi-Wan could bear his weight just fine, but Cody thought he might pass directly into the Force (do not pass Coruscant, do not collect largely metaphorical backpay) if he popped a boner while laying on top of his—on top of the General.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan said agreeably, “and how do you feel about being laid upon, Cody?”

Cody made a speedy cost-benefits analysis of this strategy and let the little status indicating wheel in his brain spin wildly for half a moment. “That would work,” he said evenly.

“Jolly good,” Obi-Wan said. On the plus side, this meant that any potential boner Cody might have sported was no longer a problem. On the other hand, which was now buried in the warm ruff of feathery skin between Obi-Wan’s wings touching Obi-Wan’s bare back and—

“This works,” Cody said after a moment into Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He couldn’t think of him as just the General like this, not with Obi-Wan’s warm, feathery weight pressing down on him and Obi-Wan’s soft, slightly sweaty hair pressed to his cheek and jaw. Obi-Wan only made an agreeable noise and shuffled his wings in a contented manner, now spread out over both sides of the cot and spilling out from under the blanket.

[spitfire-of-the-sea]

Okay, okay, okay.

Everytime I write Ace he's just running away with the story and I end up somewhere completely different to where I thought we'd end up. So here we are, with part 3. Which is mostly horny. And hopefully a little funny. Still not NSFW because I'm a whore for slow burn and I felt it was too quickly for them to jump each other. (I know, it's a dumb reason. v.v I can't help it).

Perhaps I need to set up a whole new scenario for the smut to make sense in my head. Or a series. Reader trying to keep Ace in check. And half-failing every time. Anyway. I'M SORRY. This is just more dumb/horny humor. And reader suffers. I'M SORRY. NO I'M NOT.

If you have ideas for a new series, drop me a note!! :D

Ace x reader SFW (with innuendos; the most porn word in there is "nipple", though. Sooooo...) 4.8k (I can't control myself apparently) Part 3 of the Volcano-series.

Part 1 - Holding On

Part 2 - Jungle Expedition

Eruptions

You come to such a sudden halt that Ace almost bumps into you. He stops just short of you and once again, you can feel him even if he wasn’t touching you. You don’t need your Observation Haki for that. When he is this close, he feels as if he is radiating heat like a freaking miniature sun.

Slowly turning around you simply stare at him, slowly shaking your head.

“You’ll be the death of me,” you tell Ace, still shaking your head. “You’ll be the death of me and I need you to know that I will come back and haunt your sorry ass for all eternity.”

He looks at you, blinks rapidly at your words, and finally cocks his head to the side – not unlike Pops’ dog when you talk to him and he seems to try and get better reception by fine-tuning his head’s position.

You didn’t expect the way a big smile slips onto Ace’s lips, his eyes crinkling as he regards you with so much focus you want to lift up one of the giant leaves surrounding you and slip underneath it, out of sight.

“Just as well,” he says and leans down slightly, bringing you closer. You will yourself to stay rooted in place, not giving an inch. Not to him, of all people! “I don’t like sleeping alone all that much anyways.”

You draw in a breath, your eyes going wide and your scowl dropping from your face and you quickly lower your gaze as if you’re trying to look for it among the underbrush. If you’re lucky, you might find it down there, together with the one or other layer of sanity you’ve shed in the last hour thanks to this man.

“As if I’d sleep with you,” you hiss at an innocent bush that is simply unfortunate enough to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s not even a lie because what you have daydreamed about an embarrassing amount of times has nothing to do with sleep per se and everything with other uses for pretty much any flat surface you happened across.

And whose fault was that?

His.

What business did he have, standing in the middle of the deck on a stupidly hot day, shirtless – of course shirtless, way too often shirtless – and glistening, drops of sweat mesmerizing you as they rolled down over his broad back, following the lines of his well-defined muscles? How was that okay…?!

“That’s fine too,” Ace says and shifts around until he’s in your field of view again – or at the very least his chest is and you snap your head up so fast you almost get whiplash. You meet his brown eyes and for a moment you get distracted by the way the sunlight filters through the trees and paints patterns on his stupidly handsome face – the strong line of his jaw, the freckles dusting his cheeks, the long dark eyelashes that lower as he looks at you.

Perhaps you’re wrong, perhaps it’s the other way around. He will haunt you for all eternity.

“It’s not like there’s nothing else to do, I can think of a lot of things to do instead that are more fun,” he continues and you look at him sharply. You can think of a lot of things too; you’ve had a lot of practice but you’re pretty sure your thoughts don’t exactly match his…-

“Way more fun,” he elaborates and it’s probably just your imagination but it sure feels as if he’s leaning closer at that. You steel yourself because you will not fall for that again. Even if his voice sounds suddenly husky. Even if your traitorous body gravitates towards him as if he’s the moon and you’re the tide and you can’t help his pull. Even if you can’t resist and take a tiny step to bring you closer.

“Yeah?” you murmur and lower your eyelids. You dampen your limps, your mouth suddenly parched. “Like what?” Only after the words leave your mouth do you remember that you’re currently mad at him and you force your feet to take a step back again. Like this, at least you end up without losing any ground, even if you’re not gaining any.

Having noticed how your tone has softened – how could he not? Any softer and you’d be purring – his smile widens and his eyes light up. An annoying trait of his, really; the way he just beams at people, making them feel all fuzzy and warm on the inside.

“If you were a ghost, you could probably go through walls,” he theorizes and you suppress a groan because of course he’s going to take a completely random train of thought to jump onto. “Which, hey, super handy! I mean, imagine the things we could do! You could take a look whether Thatch is in the kitchen and if he’s not, we can go and take all the leftovers to-… oi! Wait!”

You start walking because either you remove yourself from his general vicinity or you flick that bright orange hat from his head, push him against the next best tree – there’s ample choice, you’ll find one that fits – and show him exactly which fun things you have in mind. You’d like to shut him up in the only way that seems to make sense in your head: kissing him speechless.

A brave little brain cell that is doing its very best to stay focused on the task at hand – not letting Ace wreak havoc – tells you that is not the way to go, though, because for all you know you would traumatize the poor guy for life and you are not that kind of person. Just because all the other brain cells are busy fabricating images of much even better things to do with him doesn’t mean you have to act on it.

“Things is,” you throw at him over your shoulder, “I don’t need to wait for Thatch to be gone. I just ask him nicely and he feeds me.” Turning forward again you grasp a branch and push it out of the way and then, because you feel spiteful, you let it snap back toward him. “So I don’t see a benefit for me in that plan of yours.”

He catches the branch before it smacks him straight in the chest – with ease, of course – and his smile drops for a moment. “I know that you’re his favorite. You don’t have to rub it in.”

You roll your eyes. You are not, in fact, Thatch’s favorite. At least you don’t think you are. Thatch likes everybody and he gives everybody nicknames. You just have the benefit of actually being polite, never stealing from the fridge and having the ability to be damn cute if you want to. You can be extra cute when he just made fresh cinnamon rolls and you usually get him to give you as many as you want. “It’s called asking nicely. You should try it one day.”

He’s quiet for a moment – untypically so – and you throw him a glance over your shoulder and notice with surprise that he seems to be… pouting? His eyes meet yours for a moment before he looks to the side. “I doubt it’s just because you’re asking nicely.”

You blink in surprise and can’t quite figure out what he means by that. You do, however, notice that he’s following you and that in turn means that maybe now that he’s somewhat distracted you can get him back toward the harbor without him noticing. Toward the harbor, away from the volcano and closer to successfully fulfilling your task. Hah! Who’d have known you’d get a chance like this? Now… which direction is the harbor again?

You aren’t certain but you don’t dare to stop because if you stop that might give him a chance to realize what you’re doing and so you speed up slightly at the prospect of getting out of this torture in the near future.

However, after several minutes of Ace not uttering a word you are starting to feel freaked out and so you come to a sudden stop and turn to face him. He has clearly not been paying attention because he walks right into you and it kinda feels like being hit by a solid brick wall. You stumble with a little hiss of surprise, your hand shooting out to catch yourself on a brunch before you go down like a felled tree.

Instead, however, it lands on his upper arm at the same time as his large hand finds its way to the small of your back and pulls you toward him even as he is already closing the gap between you to keep you from falling.

Your heart leaps into your throat, your fingers dig into his biceps – not much, mind you, his muscles are too firm beneath your fingertips for that – and you gulp down a sound that is making its way up your chest and over your tongue just in time, too scared it might actually be a whimper. His hand on your lower back is doing things to you. It feels as though he is scorching you, the heat dropping right down between your legs and you’d have tried to extract yourself if most of your weight hadn’t rested on his hand right now.

Or so you tell yourself.

“Whoops,” he says, belatedly, and somehow doesn’t sound very sorry.

You lick your lips and – idiotically so, really – bring your second hand up to hold onto his other arm with it. For stability, you tell yourself, so you can straighten yourself and get back onto your feet. Your fingers land on the black ink on his arm, your index finger right on the A, your other fingers splayed over the rest of the letters. Like this you can feel the muscles in his arms shift when he puts pressure against your lower back, pulling you a bit closer still to help you regain your footing. Close enough for your thighs to brush against his knees, now that your completely useless feet are between his.

“You should watch where you’re going,” you blurt out in an attempt to push aside the feeling in your stomach. You feel like you might puke butterflies any moment now. You can feel your nipples harden with each breath you take, because each breath makes you more aware of his hand and the way his thumb seems to stroke over your back in a minuscule movement. He says nothing and so you quickly press on: “Do you have any idea how freaking solid you are? Mere mortals like me don’t have a chance…-“

“Why are you so angry with me?” Ace interrupts you and you snap your mouth shut. His eyes are fixed on you and there’s no escape, not like this. Not without loosening your grip from his arms – unthinkable – and extracting yourself from this position – impossible.

“I’m not angry with you!” you protest with a scowl instead.

“Well, you certainly look angry whenever you look at me,” he murmurs with a sigh.

You blink in surprise and mull his words over. Do you?

“No I don’t,” you protest almost automatically because maybe you are mad but more at yourself than at him. Was it annoying when he stumbled into the sick-bay with yet another wound you had to clean and bandage? Yes. Yes, because it made you feel flustered and on edge and that was fucking annoying for sure. After more than a year on the Moby Dick you didn’t get flustered that easily anymore. Usually. Plus, you felt kinda bad for being happy that he’d gotten roughed up enough to have to come to you.

“Yes you do,” he counters and frowns at you.

“That’s just what my face looks like!” you snap and realize yourself that you actually do sound angry. Softening your tone you shrug. “I don’t do it on purpose.”

He shakes his head, eyes still on you. “You smile when you look at Marco or Thatch. When you look at me, you scowl.”

That effectively shuts you up for a moment and you feel panic rising in you. Shit. Are you really doing that? And he noticed? Oh, you are so screwed! How are you going to explain this without sounding like a lunatic?!

Unable to come up with an explanation that doesn’t spell out because I cannot deal with the amount of attraction I feel toward you or the things you make me feel you keep silent. It’s even harder to explain considering he is still trying to kill your adoptive father, even if at least he has given up on the daily sneak attacks and everything is at least fair and out in the open now. Well, as fair as a fight against Pops can ever be, anyhow.

“Is it because of the one time I singed your hair?” he asks quietly and his gaze drops to your hair. You had to trim it somewhat after the incident but it honestly wasn’t that bad and you don’t care too much about that. You are far more upset about how your mind is holding onto the memory of Ace above you, his arms caching you in as he looks down at you with concern in his eyes.

“I am really sorry about that, I didn’t think he’d fling me that far and I think I lost consciousness sometime mid-air, otherwise I’d never have landed on you like that or risked hurting you,” he continues and his gaze drops from your hair to your shoulder for a moment. It is only now that you realize that the bikini strap there has somehow managed to slip down over your shoulder together with the strap of your top.

You don’t know what possesses you but you can’t help it, you tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck even more. His muscles beneath your fingers twitch and you can feel his second hand hesitantly land on your hip. Out of the corners of your eyes you can see his gaze roam up over your shoulder to your neck.

You lick your lips and his eyes immediately shift to your face. “That’s not it,” you manage to say because you don’t want him to think you’re upset over a having to trim the ends of your hair. “I hate to break it to you but I’ve been in much more severe scuffles than that and made it out just fine.”

It wasn’t a lie. Those scuffles, however, had definitely left less of an impression on you than the brief interaction with him – and they certainly didn’t give you thirsty daydreams time and again.

He hums in acknowledgement. “Is it because I’m fighting… Whitebeard?” he asks then, stumbling over the words and you wonder if he almost called Pops something different there.

You contemplate his words for a moment and wonder if you should latch onto this excuse. It made sense. It was as good as any. Still, you slowly shake your head. Sure, you’d been as upset as the rest in the beginning but it had actually been Pops who’d calmed you down after you’d gone off on a rant for ten minutes straight while preparing his medication. He’d picked you up and told you that if he wouldn’t let a pup like Ace test his mettle against him, how would that pup ever grow into a proper wolf?

Whatever that had meant, it had at the very least calmed you down enough to be only mildly annoyed at any following attempt to topple Pops.

“You’ve lost… what…? 68 times now?” you ask him, quirking an eyebrow at him and trying to ignore the way his fingers dig into the flesh of your hip. You fail at it, though, and you’re more than aware of how good it feels and how you might lean into his touch more than you’d like to admit. “You’ll never defeat him anyways. So, no, not anymore.”

“69,” the grinds out with a smile that reminds you more of a snarl. It doesn’t scare you, though. For whatever dumb reason you feel perfectly safe here with him, not worried for even a second that he’ll hurt you. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he says, sarcasm dripping off his words like syrup.

Feeling like perhaps you’re reclaiming some control over the situation you place your feet more sturdily on the ground, taking some weight off his hand that is still supporting you. His fingers twitch against the fabric of your back when you do. “Nobody can defeat Pops,” you inform him. That he hasn’t realized as much himself is laughable.  “The sooner you come to that conclusion yourself, the better.”

You’ve triggered something there because he’s leaning down now, bringing his face closer to yours and your breath hitches in your throat. The notion that you have any control whatsoever over the situation quickly leaves you. But then, you’ve always been good at faking that you had your shit together. So you square your jaw and stare right back at him.

“I still have 31 attempts left.” Ace probably doesn’t even realize it himself but he shifts closer and all of a sudden your knees bump against his legs and you dig your fingers into his arms in an attempt to steady yourself. You are close now, way too close. “I will defeat him,” he tells you with such conviction that you’d believe him if you didn’t know who he is talking about.

You raise your chin – it’s not much use, you still have to look up when talking to him, especially now that you’re so close – and do your best to regard him with a bored expression. You take a step back and away from him so you don’t have to crane your neck quite so much. He lets you, but his hands remain on you.

“Sweetheart,” you say with a chuckle, “you could have a hundred left and wouldn’t.”

Truth be told, even you can see that he’s getting stronger with each attempt. So while you are pretty sure that he won’t manage to defeat Pops with another 100 trials – you think that if he’s given a couple more years, he might actually get there. You’d sooner bite off your own tongue than tell him that, though.

Caught in your own thoughts you don’t realize the way he stills at your words, his eyes growing darker as he looks you over. He allows himself a moment before he speaks. “You shouldn’t be too sure about that. I might be stronger than you give me credit for.” His voice is low and if you hadn’t known him you might have felt threatened.

It’s pouring oil into a fire and you know it but you can’t resist. You lift your hand from his arm, brush your thumb over his cheek and finally pat his head much like he has done earlier to you. You’re positively giddy with the way his eyes are widening and the muscles of his arm flex below your fingers in surprise. “You’re for sure more stubborn than I gave you credit for initially. I guess that counts for something.”

Whatever ground you thought you’d won was gone in a single instant, he’s quicker than you thought possible. Within a single moment he has pulled you back toward him and you’re almost flush against him, your hand dropping from his head to his shoulder. An embarrassing startled squeak escapes you when his arm comes around you and presses you close, your nose touching his chest and his mouth suddenly right next to your ear.

It’s unfair, really, because if he’d not committed a war crime right there and incapacitated you with what you can only categorize as biological warfare, you might have been able to throw the one or other sarcastic remark at him. You are doing your best to keep your head straight – both literally and figuratively – and not nuzzle into the crook of his neck. It’s hard, though, and it gets harder with every breath full of his smell you take in. He smells of campfire and earth or maybe it’s just your imagination but even so it makes thinking almost impossible. And then there’s his body against yours, hard and hot and you want nothing more than to jump and wrap your legs around him and…-

He speaks and you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body when you feel his hot breath on the sensitive skin there. “You’re awfully cheeky for somebody so tiny,” he says and flexes his muscles and you know it is to underline his words.

You’ll be damned before you actually give in and admit defeat like this. So you swallow down your heart that has jumped into your throat and hook your arm around his neck, using it as leverage to tiptoe and lean up against him and bring your mouth closer to his ear. With some luck he won’t notice how shaky your breath comes or how meticulously you avoid to brush your breasts against him for fear that he will realize how hard your nipples are right now. “What can I say? You might not want to underestimate me. Size isn’t everything.”

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hip and you almost think that perhaps you’ve rendered him speechless but after a moment he tilts his head and his lips brush against your ear. You swallow, hard. “I’d never dream of underestimating you,” he murmurs.

You feel like you’re having the upper hand right now and you need to use the chance to finally direct him back to the harbor, hand him over to whichever commander you spot first and retreat before your panties were completely soaked through. Then you could take care of yourself… and perhaps regain some grains of sanity.

You settled back down on your feet, brushing against him again and impatiently rubbing your thighs together at the sensation. You withdraw the arm from around his neck and are about to grab one of his hands when you feel him lower his arm from around your waist lower still, barely touching you, down until it is just below your ass. Your eyes widen in alarm when you notice he has hunched down slightly. It is then that you realize you’ve broken one of the most important poker rules.

Never count your winnings because that’s when you start to lose.

“Sometimes, size does matter, though,” Ace informs you happily and lifts you up easily with one arm, throwing you over his shoulder. He does so gently, but quick enough to knock the breath out of you. “Like right now.”

He starts walking and when you start to wiggle off his shoulder, his arm tightens around you to fix you in place. You bring your arms out from underneath you to brace yourself against his back and already want to start snapping at him when you notice that the position gives you a very nice view of his rear.

You blink. His trousers are kinda loose and with each step he takes you become surer that he hasn’t lied. He is, in fact, not wearing any underwear. If you look closely enough, you can see half an outline of a perfectly shaped ass cheek with each of his steps.

You’re torn from your observation when you feel rather than hear him chuckle. “It’s a good thing you were walking us closer to the volcano before, huh? Look, it’s right there.”

With quite some struggle you manage to look past his side and indeed, you can see the gentle slope of the volcano emerging from between the trees. You can even spot the beginnings of the crater in its middle already.

Your face falls. This time it was definitely his fault. He distracted you enough to make you lose what little sense of direction you had and you just brought him closer to the damn thing!

You glower at his back and ready yourself. Oh, it is on, Portgas!

***

It is seven hours, 28 minutes and roughly 5 seconds later that you stumble back into town, your fingers firmly clasped around Ace’s hand as you drag him along behind you. Neither of you speaks a word as you make your way through the streets, ignoring the looks you are getting.

You enter the first bar you find and by chance it’s also the one some of the commanders and their crew have picked for tonight. Ignoring Marco’s raised eyebrows you pull out a chair and press Ace down into it, almost surprised by how readily he allows you to do so – you have no illusion, if he wouldn’t want to, you’d never be able to do it. Then you delicately place the crown of feathers Ace has been gifted by a native tribe down on the table.

Thatch’s chair makes a screeching sound as he pushes it back and stands up. You lift your hand to stop him from coming over to you, then grab the edge of your top and pull it up, wiping at the grime on your face, not caring that you’re showing a whole table full of crew members your blackened bikini top. When you’re pretty sure you’ve removed at least some of it from your face, you turn on your heels and stalk over to the bar.

“Two schnapps please!” you say and hold up two fingers. You feel Marco’s and Thatch’s eyes drill into the back of your head.

The bartender puts down the glasses in front of you and you down first one and then the other. He stares at you and you cough a bit at the biting taste, then indicate him you want two more. He hesitates, you glare, and he refills the glasses.

You take a deep breath and wonder how the hell Portgas D. Ace has survived so far. Could it really be his stubbornness together with dumb luck? How else could you possibly explain what had happened in the last several hours?

The volcano had somehow reacted to Ace’s presence – just as you’d feared. It had started spitting fire – not lava, fire! – and suddenly ash was raining down on you and your surroundings and while you were still arguing with Ace over how the fuck he could stop what he’d somehow started, a tribe of natives had burst from the jungle.

Neither you nor Ace understood a word they said, but you are pretty sure they were about to sacrifice the prettiest man you’d ever seen to the volcano gods – at least he was clad in white, carried on a makeshift little altar and looked all solemn. You are reasonably sure they weren’t just on their daily volcano stroll.

Either way, whatever they’d planned on doing, Ace was having none of it and somehow you’d ended up fighting an entire tribe while trying to evade fireballs raining down on you and little streams of lava that seemed to emerge from the ground.

You still can’t quite fathom how he managed to calm down the volcano, extinguish all the fires and stop the natives. You especially can’t quite fathom how apparently the elders had decided to consider him some sort of king? Or god? Or both?

Whatever the fuck happened… you managed to keep the volcano from erupting fully, you didn’t start a war and as far as you can tell nobody got sacrificed or killed in the process and sure, perhaps there was somebody in the jungle fashioning a statue of Ace from whatever material they could find, but you had managed your task. In a way. But still!

You heave a deep sigh, only then do you take the glasses and return to the table. Apparently you have left Ace alone for too long, because you can hear him talk to Marco and Thatch now.

“Yeah, she was pretty angry because I got her all wet,” he tells them. A grin appears on his face. “Don’t worry, though, I took care of it! I think it’s all good now, she’s just a bit worn out. Nothing that a little sleep won’t cure! Now that I think of it, it might be good to get her out of those clothes first, though.”

You freeze mid-step and stare at him. You feel Marco’s eyes shift to you and you raise one glass and down it. Ace notices you and lifts his hand to wave at you happily. You stare some more. Surely he hasn’t just said what you think you heard?

“Oh, by the way,” he says and turns back to the two commanders. “Do you have any idea where I can buy new underpants?”