#want to get better at like. drawing Anything. instead of falling into my patterns...

[wuntrum]

broke the cycle of wanting to draw all day but not actually drawing by actually sitting down and drawing. everybody cheered

[aerynwrites]

Bound by The Heart (And Other Things)

Dammon x Afab!Reader

A/N: yeah uh…I don’t even have a reason for this other than I have my own personal HC that Dammon would be into bondage lmao. But like…the pretty kind. Hope y’all enjoy :3

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! NSFW. Smut, PiV sex, cunnilingus, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, bondage, rope bondage, restraints, discussions of a safe word but it;s never used, aftercare, fluff.

The weathered leather book is heavy in your hands as you examine the title. 

A Pleasurable Deal. 

The text immediately strikes you as one you’ve seen before, and heat rushes to your cheeks when the memory of a banned books list in Sorcerous Sundries comes to the front of your mind. 

You remember Gale lamenting the list, saying no texts - no matter how obscene - should never be banned. 

You hadn’t given much thought to the list until now, as the book sits in your hands. And the fact that you found it hidden away in Dammon’s side table. 

Despite having been with the blacksmith for months now, you’d never seen this specific tome. Either because it was a new item he’d acquired or…a well loved one he'd kept hidden away. 

You’re assuming it’s the latter if the worn corners of the leather cover and the bent pages have anything to say. 

You move to put the book back, not wanting to intrude on your partners privacy, but as you move to slide it back into place, another book catches your eye. This one tucked behind several other blacksmithing texts. 

It looks rather ornate, the black binding inlaid with gold colored trimmings. 

Before you can stop yourself, you’re already reaching for the book, fingers sliding along the smooth cover and pulling it from its place. 

Your eyes fall to the cover, eyes widening as you read the title. 

A Madam's Guide to Pleasure. 

The cover falls open before you can think better of it, your eyes immediately flicking to the small piece of paper sticking out from a section farther into the book. You yearn to flip to that page first, but your eyes instead fall to scan the table of contents. 

Your face gets even hotter as you read over the various section titles. Everything from the basics when it comes to sex to the more debauched. 

Finally, you flip the pages to where the paper sticks out, only to have a few pieces of folded parchment fall into your lap to reveal the title of the section they were tucked into. 

‘Bondage’

The otherwise wicked ideal behind the term is hidden by the pretty flowing script on the page. Your eyes follow the words easily, slowly feeling your heart rate pick up as you take in the text. 

You’ve only made it halfway through the section when you remember the papers that fell into your lap. Setting the book down gently and open to the page you left off, you reach down and unfold the pages. 

The first thing you feel is shock followed by a sudden stab of arousal as you take in the charcoal images sketched onto the pages. 

It’s Dammon’s work, you’d be able to tell his artistry from anywhere thanks to the hundreds of sketches he’s shown you of blacksmithing plans. 

But these…these are not blueprints of swords or daggers or armor. No…

These sketches are something else entirely. Light and dark lines coming together as he depicts various different types of bondage scenarios. 

None of the pictures are lewd in anyway besides their obvious connotation. In a way…they’re quite beautiful. 

You see the vague shape of a body, legs tied together with an intricate weave of rope and knots, as if it’s meant to decorate the wearer rather than restrain them. 

Almost all of the drawings seem that way, the rope and bindings tied and wrapped in a way that’s almost artistic. 

The one that catches your eye the most though, is a page that depicts the front and back view of a woman kneeling and sitting on her heels. 

The sketch of her from behind shows her hands bound behind her back, the ropes binding her arms together in an intricately woven pattern that spans from her wrists all the way up to just beneath her shoulders. 

The other view seems to be part of the same design, the ropes snaking to the front of her body, twining delicately over her breasts, sternum and chest in complicated knots and patterns. 

You’ve just reached up to trace your finger over the sketchings of rope, when a startled call of your name rips you from your reverie. 

“What are you doing?”

Dammons voice is raised louder than he usually speaks to you, face several shades darker than usual as he practically lunges for the items in your hands, a look of utter fear and panic on his face. 

“Oh, gods,” he mutters, hastily collecting the papers before shoving them back into the black bound novel. “You weren’t supposed to see that, I-“ 

“Dammon it’s okay! I promise-“ 

He turns to you then, book clutched tightly in his hands, as he looks at you with something none other than utter betrayal. “Why were you going through my things?” He asks. 

You shake your head, heart sinking to your stomach and dispelling any feelings of arousal the drawings drew forth. 

“I didn’t mean to, I came up here looking for one of my books and I saw you stored some in here and so I thought-“ 

“You thought you’d go through my books instead?” He asks, voice now tinged with accusation as he stands, the book still clutched tightly in his hands. 

“I’m sorry Dammon,” you say from your position still kneeled on the floor. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“

“I-I’m not upset, I-“ the tiefling cuts himself off, running a hand down his face as he lets out a sigh, avoiding your gaze. “I just…need some air.”

You watch helplessly as Dammon turns and leaves the bedroom, a pit of guilt stirring deep in your belly. 

————

Dammon spends the rest of the day in the forge, which isn’t unusual, but it feels like an intentional choice today. One you don’t begrudge him considering you snooped through his personal things. 

It’s well into the evening before he comes into the house, and you’re just finishing up dinner. You watch him between plating your meals as he hangs up his blacksmith apron next to the door before heading to the water basin to wash his hands. 

You’ve just placed the last of the food onto your plates when he approaches you, taking one of the plates from your hands with a quick kiss to your cheek.

A small weight is lifted from your shoulders at that small action, and you follow him silently to the kitchen table, taking your habitual seat to his right side. 

The meal is pleasant enough, you tentatively asking about his forge projects and feel the tension lift as he tells you about them. It goes on like that - like normal despite the nagging in your mind. 

You don’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up the earlier incident. But you also don’t want to leave it how it was. You owe him an apology, a real apology, and…there’s something else you want to talk to him about too.

You finally find the courage to bring it all up as you and Dammon clean up after dinner, you drying the washed dishes as Dammon puts them away. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, Dammon,” you say softly, not missing the way his shoulders tense as he takes a plate from you, eyes avoiding yours once more. 

“It’s…It’s alright,” he says with a sigh. “I’m not angry or upset with you, not over something so trivial. I was just…” he lets out a dry chuckle. “I supposed I’m a bit embarrassed for you to have come across such things. I know they aren’t…Common desires.” 

He’s still turned away from you when he finishes, stashing the last dish before his hands fall to his sides. You immediately reach for him, taking his hand in your own as you urge him to face you. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you tell him, feeling that familiar heat creep up into your cheeks as you contemplate your next words. 

“I actually…Liked them. The drawings, I mean.”

Dammon’s eyes finally snap to yours then, bright blue iris’ completely visible to you as he stares at you wide eyed, mouth slightly agape. 

“You…what?”

You take your lip between your teeth coyly, courage slowly building up in your chest as you move to slip your arms around his waist, hands resting on his low back as returns the lose embrace. 

“I liked them,” you repeat. “It looked…beautiful really. The intricate designs and knots and I…”

You pause then, shyness creeping in one more as you look up at your lover. 

“I think I’d like to try it sometime. If that’s - if you’d want too, of course.”

You can practically see the way Dammon’s heart rate picks up, cheeks darkening with blush as his breath stutters. 

“You’d…You’d try that? With me?” 

A small chuckle slips past your lips. “I hope it’s with you.”

In an answer of his own, Dammon captures your lips with his in a fierce kiss. It’s needy and desperate and filled with a relief only you can understand as he pulls you tighter to him. 

“I love you,” he mutters against your lips before pulling down to trail kisses down your jaw. “We can’t do it tonight,” he says. “I need to prepare.”

You try to hide the small swell of disappointment, but Dammon must sense it anyways, nipping at the spot just below your ear as he tugs you closer to his body. 

“I’m still going to ravish you tonight though. For making me the happiest man in Baldur’s Gate.”

You smile, pulling him up for another kiss before he whisks you upstairs. Anticipation for tonight and what’s to come in the future simmering low in your belly.

—————

It’s only a few days later when Dammon brings it back up, asking if tonight you’d like to try what you all had discussed. When you agreed, a bit too eagerly, he had just let out a small laugh before laying out all of the boundaries. 

He had you pick a safeword in case you wanted out of the restraints, as well as asking you about anything you’d be uncomfortable with. In the end you’d just told him you trusted him completely and once again stated your excitment. 

Which led you here, blindfolded on the edge of your shared bed in nothing but your smallclothes. 

Dammon had tied the soft silk fabric around your eyes before leaving the room to fetch something, asking that you not remove the blindfold before he got back. You obeyed easily, but as the seconds turn into minutes, you feel yourself start to grow impatient. 

What is taking him so long?

Your fingers twitch against your skin from where your hands sit on your thighs before moving to be by your side instead, toying with the soft sheets beneath you. Every creak and faint footstep has your ears perking up, waiting in anticipation for Dammon to return. 

Finally, you hear his familiar footsteps coming up the stairs and to your shared room, the floor boards creaking beneath his weight. His steps are softer than when he left, the sound of bare soles on the wood greeting your ears as he approaches your position. 

He must have taken off his shoes. And you silently hope he took off other things as well, wanting to feel him at least a little bit before you're restrained. 

“Are you still alright?” he asks, his voice much closer than you anticipated. 

You jump slightly as you realize he’s right in front of you now, and you can feel the subtle heat radiating from his body. You nod, reaching out instinctively to touch him. 

He allows it, sighing lightly when your hands bump against his bare stomach, flattening against the taut muscle there before sliding upwards. You can feel the faint ridges and bumps unique to his skin as you continue upwards, gliding over his chest before coming back down again, mapping him in your blinded state. You only stop when your fingers meet rough fabric - the waistband of his pants. 

You hear the faint sound of his tail brushing the ground intermittently, and you can’t help but smile as your fingers curl beneath the band of his pants. But before you can get any further, familiar calloused hands stop your own, pulling you away from his skin. 

“If you do that, I’m afraid we won’t accomplish what we planned to do tonight,” he says breathlessly. 

You are still amazed that such simple touches drive him crazy, but you can’t help but relish in it, because you feel the same anytime Dammon touches you. As if your body can’t get enough. 

Tonight might be the night that it does. 

“Can you give me your hand?” he asks, and you hear him rustling around with something. 

“Of course.”

You offer him your hand and he takes it, turning it palm up and placing a long thin object in your palm. He curls your fingers round it, and when he offers no complaint, you reach up with your other hand to further investigate what it could be. 

“It’s the rope I’m going to use,” he informs you as your fingers trail along the braid material. “It’s…This is why we had to wait. I had to find someone who…dealt with these kinds of things.”

You let out a small hum as you run the rope through you hands, and you slowly begin to understand what he means. It’s smoother than any rope you’ve ever used, so smooth in fact that it feels like silk. It’s sturdy too, not too thick but not so thin it will dig uncomfortably into your skin if it gets tight. It’s like it was created for this purpose alone. 

And perhaps it was. 

You’re no stranger to the more debacuhed happenings in the city. Hells - you’ve been inside Sharess’ Caress. They probably use rope like this in abundance there.

“It’s so…soft,” you say finally, reaching out to offer the rope back to him. 

“Yes I…” He trails off for a moment before continuing. “This isn’t supposed to be painful,” he informs you, and you feel the bed dip beside you, his voice shifting to your right side. “It can be of course but…Not tonight. It’s more about the control I suppose. The art of it.”

You nod as you feel a warm hand settle on your hip. “That makes sense. The drawings I saw were beautiful in a way and also…” you trail off, heat creeping into your cheeks. “Let’s just say I was never put off by the idea once I saw it.”

You can hear the way Dammon’s breath catches, his nails digging into the flesh of your hip ever so slightly. “I should have suggested it sooner, it seems.”

You smile, leaning in to where you think his body is. “You should have.”

He lets out a sigh, and you feel the way it brushes against your temple as he speaks. 

“Well…We’re here now,” he says, slowly dragging his hand from your hip up your back before settling on your shoulder. “Are you ready for me to start?”

You let out a breath of your own, anticipation bubbling in your veins as you shift in your place, eager to get started. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Slowly and with whispered instructions he guides you so your are on your knees on the bed, sitting on your heels as you face away from him. Once you’re in position his fingers skim up to unhook the clasps of your bra, sliding it gently from your shoulders before tossing it somewhere off to your left. 

“If you wanted me naked you could have just said so,” you tease, smiling when it earns youa  chuckle from teh man behind you. 

“That ruins the fun,” he says, and you finally feel the cool slide of rope against your arms. “This is…a lot of this is about the anticipation,” he tells you, breath ghosting over your ear as he gently guides your arms into position behind your back. “The gentle touches, the slow act of tying the rope, the build of what’s to come…”

He has you bend your arms behind your back, forearms almost crossing as he starts to slide the rope beneath them, wrapping it over just a few times before starting to tie the first knot, securing your arms together. 

He continues like that for long agonizing moments. The cool rope sliding against your heated skin as he pulls, tugs, and knots the smooth cord into a masterpiece only he can see. The design soon travels from your forearms upwards above your elbows, as he begins to connect your arms together once more. He threads the rope beneath your right arm, hands ghosting across your back as he brings it over to your left, looping it over your bicep and back again, creating an intricate set of loops and ties that secure your arms behind you further, pulling your shoulders back to just the bare edge of discomfort. 

Dammon was right. This is about the anticipation.

Because with each slide of the rope, with each brush of his fingers or ghost of his lips on your skin, you feel a new pang of arousal pool in your core. You shudder with each pass of the cord on your skin, breath hitching with each knot he tugs into place. 

And Dammon, who’s never known to keep his hands from you for too long, can’t help but to touch you in between. His sharp nails ghosting along your skin, kisses pressed to your shoulder as he mutters words of praise…you can feel yourself getting wet already, and he’s barely even touched you. Not in the way you desire most, at least. 

A whimper slips past your lips when he finally pulls away from you, the last piece of rope in place agasint your arms. But his absence doesn’t last long before he’s back again, his arms snaking around you as a new rope presses against the delicate skin of your lower belly. 

“Are you still alright?” he asks, warm breath ghosting over your cheek as his head comes up beside yours to look down at your exposed body. His chin tucks perfectly against your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your cheek, waiting patiently for you to answer before he continues.

When you do find your words, they come out small, a mere gasp on your lips. 

“Yes,” you assure him. “I just…wish you would touch me. I didn’t…this is more than i expected.”

You feel him tense behind you, his hands stilling. “We can stop at anytime-”

“No!” you almost shout, leaning back into your lover in a silent plea. “Please, don’t stop. I only meant…I didn’t expect to react so strongly to just this.”

Dammon clicks his tongue, letting out a low hum of understanding as his hands start to move again, the rope sliding softly against your skin. 

“If it makes you feel any better…” Dammon trails off, wrapping the rope around your front again, allowing him to press himself against your back, the hardness of him pressing into your low back. “It’s having the same affect on me.”

His words, and the feeling of him hard as steel pressing into your skin is enough to send another bolt of pleasure through you. You expect him to pull away to continue his work, but he does no such thing, instead aiming to stay pressed as close to you as possible as he works on his art. 

Each moment feels agonizing as he slowly winds the ropes up your body, fingers braiding and knotting the pieces together, fingers brushing against your skin, but never doing much more. 

Your breath leaves you in shallow pants, and you can’t help it when you press your hips back into his own, desperate for any kind of touch, any friction to sooth the ache simmering in your veins.

A small groan leaves Dammons lips, and you feel a small tug the the ropes around your arms. “We’ll get there,” he whispers, leaning down to brush a tender kiss to your shoulder. “You’re doing so well, my love. I’m almost done.”

You fight to hold back the whine that threatens to slip past when his lips retreat from your skin, but you do, instead moving to lean back against him as he looks back over your shoulder once more to see his work. 

You can feel the way the cords constrict around you, knotting in the center of your body as it travels upwards and spans out to wrap over your ribs and around your back. Soon enough you can feel them start to settle beneath your breasts. His hands barely brush the plush mounds as he ties a secure knot between them before taking the two ends up and over your collarbones to secure at the back of your neck. 

He ties the last knot, a quiet sigh of admiration leaving him as his hands skim over his work, calloused palms ghosting over your skin. 

You feel the bed shift, his warmth leaving your back. You wonder for a moment if he’s leaving again, but you continue to feel him move, until you think he settles in front of you on the plush mattress. The bed creaks softly as he settles, and despite the blindfold, you can feel his eyes boring into you, admiring his work much like he does that which he produces in the forge. 

Dammon is a lot of things, and a proud man is one of them.

He’s never boastful or arrogant. But he loves his work - he’s always proud of what he can accomplish. And it seems that extends to you as well.

You don’t flinch when his hand settles on your cheek, thumb brushing the skin their gently, as he continues to admire you. 

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, his other hand coming up to cup one of your breasts gently. 

A gasp slips past your lips as he runs a thumb over the stiff peak of your nipple, nails scratching the sensitive skin deliciously as he pulls away to trail further down your body. He traces the ropes he tied into place, fingers slipping beneath them every now and again to tug gently. 

“Is it-“ another gasp interrupts you as his hands slide down to brush over your thighs instead. “Is it everything you imagined?” 

Dammon leans forward then, his hands slipping around your hips as his lips fall to your shoulder before trailing down lower to nip sharp teeth at your collar bone. 

“It’s even better,” he breathes. “You’re more magnificent than anything my mind could conjure up.” 

A moan leaves you as his mouth finally reaches your breast, his teeth scarping against the sensitive swell before taking a pert nipple between his lips. 

“Oh, gods…” you gasp, arms tugging at the rope as you instinctively want to reach up to cradle his head in your hands. 

But the restraints keep you in place, completely at his mercy as he continues to lavish your skin with praises and gently love bites. 

You’re burning up now, blood boiling in your veins and desperate for anything Dammon wishes to give you. Something he seems to sense as both arms move to slip around your back as he gently lowers you to lay back on the bed, his lips traveling lower the whole way. 

Your arms are trapped beneath you in this new position, adding to the arousal pooling in your belly as you lay completely open and bare for the man before you. 

His teeth tug at the rope around your hips, hands moving to spread your legs so he can settle between them. 

“Are you still alright, my love?” He asks, fingers creeping slowly up your inner thighs. 

Gods you love him. You really do. But in this moment you want nothing more than for him to ravish you, to tear you completely apart before putting you back together again. 

He can be sweet later. Right now, you want him to fuck you. 

“Yes, yes, Dammon I’m fine,” you assure him, bucking your hips up into his hands. “Just please…fuck me. I cant wait any longer.” 

You would usually be embarrassed by blatantly begging like this, but the feel of Dammons mouth on your wet center removes any and all thoughts but him from your mind. 

His tounge parts your folds running up to tease the small bundle of nerves that sends bolts of pleasure through you. 

You squirm in Dammon’s steel grip, your back arching as he devours you, his fingers digging into your thighs, nails no doubt going to leave behind evidence of his hold on you come morning. 

His name falls from your lips in a lewd prayer, as you buck your hips up into his mouth, seeking more despite the way his tongue moves ravenously against you. 

You feel his hands slide up to the rope around your hips, fingers slipping beneath the cord as he uses it to tug you closer to him, as if he wishes to drown in you. 

His nose nudges at your clit as his tounge prods your entrance, desperate to taste you, his moans sending vibrations through you that make that coil in your belly pull impossibly taut. 

“Fuck,” cry out when he slides one hand to rub expect circles on your clit. “Dammon, I’m close I-“ 

An expert flick of his fingers cuts off your warning, sending you hurtling over the edge into oblivion as Dammon continues to work you through it. 

Incoherent babbles of his name fall from your lips until you finally say back into the bed, chest heaving and legs twitching as Dammon continues to lick at you, certain to leave nothing behind. 

You want to push him away, but without the use of your hands, you squeeze your thighs around his shoulders gently, urging him away from you. 

He obeys with a small sigh, his hand sliding up your body, as his lips follow suit, leaving a moist trail of kisses in his wake before he’s finally pressing them to the underside of your jaw. 

“You’re doing so well, my love,” me mutters against your skin, fingers toying idly with the smooth cord beneath your breasts. 

You smile as you turn your head to capture his lips with your own, tasting yourself on his tounge before pulling away just enough to speak. 

“Can you…Will you take the blindfold off?”you ask. “I’d like to see you.” 

Dammon lets out a low hum, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your lips before reaching up to tug at the silken fabric. 

While the sun has long set, the bedroom is still well lit, lanterns and a few candles lighting the space enough for you to need to adjust to the brightness. 

You blink a few times, leaning into the hand Dammon places on your cheek as his face comes into focus. 

You’ve never seen anything so breathtaking. 

His lips are tilted up in that small smile of his, pupils blown wide with lust as he looks down at you. His cheeks are flushed and errant strands of hair fall from his usually well kept style. 

You yearn to reach up and tuck them back, to card your fingers through his hair or trace around the base of his horns, but you’re once again reminded of the impossibility of that as your arms tug uselessly at your bindings. 

It’s then that you start to recognize the ache in your arms, your hands tingling as they start to fall asleep form their position pinned under you. 

You shift beneath Dammon, and he notices immediately, brow furrowing in silent question. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, voice laced with concern. 

You shake your head. “No it doesn’t hurt. It just-“ you let out a small chuckle. “I think my hands are falling asleep.” 

Dammon nods, and immediately goes to help you sit up, but you stop him with a shake of your head, an idea popping into your head. 

“Wait.” You tell him, nodding your chin up towards where he was previously sitting. “Sit back.” 

He gives you a curious look, and for a moment he hesitates, but he obeys, scooting back to sit on his heels between your legs. 

You notice the hard bulge in his trousers, and any hesitance about your idea flies out the proverbial window. 

With less effort than you expected, you manage to roll over onto your stomach, gathering your knees below you enough to raise your ass in the air, presenting yourself to the man behind you. 

The sharp intake of breath is enough to tell you that Dammon understands your presentation for what it is. And soon two warm hands settle on your hips, trailing up your sides before coming back down again. 

The warmth of him surrounds you soon after, his chest pressed against your back and arms as he leans over you, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulders. 

“Are you sure?” 

You let out an exasperated sigh, turning your face so it’s no longer pressed against the sheets. 

“Dammon I swear to the gods, if you went through all this and don’t fuck me-“ 

His lips leave yours in an instant, the heat of him disappearing from behind you as you hear the faint rustle of fabric from behind you. 

His hands settle on your hips again, nails biting into the skin harsher than before as you feel the head of his cock nudge at your entrance. 

You expect him to check in with you again, expect him to ask if you remember your safe word or any amount of other precautions. But he doesn’t. 

Instead he presses into you in one swift thrust, his cock guided easily by your earlier orgasm. 

But it still never prepared you for the size of him. He always stretches you perfectly, the small ridges and bumps unique to his race adding to the sensation of him sinking into you. 

The groan you let out is sinful, and you can’t help but turn to muffle it in the sheets. 

But Dammon isn’t having that. 

A strong tug in the rope between your arms has you pulling up from the bed, the force of the movement pulling you further back onto him until your hips are flush with his own. 

“Don’t hide from me,” Dammon says, tugging at the restraints again, sending him deeper and making the rope dig deliciously into your skin. “I want to hear you.” 

“Oh, gods. Dammon…”

His name falling from your lips finally makes him move, pulling out of you before thrusting back in with one solid movement. 

Your name falls from his lips as he sets a punishing pace, something so different from the reverent way he worshiped your body earlier. 

He curls himself over you, his chest pressed against your back as he plants one hand by your head on the bed, his sharp nails digging deep into the sheets as he holds himself over you. 

He nuzzles his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, nose nudging your jaw as he takes your earlobe between his teeth and tugs. 

Another whimper escapes your lips as he continues his mind blowing pace, hitting that spot inside you as you writhe against the ropes fully now. Hands clenching and unclenching as you press your hips back into his own, seeking your second release of the night. 

“Gods, Dammon, please..” 

you're practically sobbing now, tears wetting your lashes at the intense pleasure that courses through you and the slight frustration of not being able to touch anything - touch him. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his free arm wrapping around your hips to hold you to him as he presses you down, further into the bed his cock pressing impossibly deeper inside of you at the change of position. 

“Let go for me,” he says, voice sinful in your ear. 

His words, and his fingers that slipped down to rub at your clit send you into oblivion for the second time. 

You clench around him, crying out his name in a desperate plea as you squirm against him, veins alight with utter pleasure.

Dammon is not far behind you, just a few more stuttered thrusts and he comes in you with a groan of your name from his lips, his chest rumbling against your back as he sinks down into you, breath coming out in short labored breaths against your cheek. 

Your mind is blissfully blank as you sink into the plush bedding beneath you, completely boneless as your lover adjusts his weight above you. 

You whine when you feel him pull away from you, the room seeming so much cooler without his body next to yours. 

“My love…?” His voice feels a million miles away as he brushes a few strands of hair from your sweat soaked forehead before pressing a kiss there. “Are you alright?”

You chuckle, but it comes out hoarse and weaker than intended. 

“You just…gave me the best orgasm of my life. I’m more than alright.” 

You watch through bleary eyes as Dammon blushes, his earlier dominant demeanor disappearing into the Dammon you know and love. 

“I’m going to untie you.” 

You nod, trying to help as much as you can in your blissed out state as he helps you to sit up, maneuvering you until you sit straddling his lap so he can more easily work at the ropes. 

He moves quickly, fingers deftly untying the intricate knots and letting the ropes fall away from your skin. When he loosens the ropes at your back, your hands fall to your sides, a dull ache running from your shoulders down to the tips of your fingers. 

You must have let out some kind of noise or flinched, because as soon as the ropes fall away, Dammon’s hands are on your arms, calloused palms running up and down your arms as he tries to sooth the aches and indentations left behind. 

“They were too tight,” he mutters softly. “I’m sorry, my love I-”

You shush him softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips to quiet his concerns. “I’m alright, Dammon. I promise,” you assure him, smiling as he continued to rub at the light indentation marks left by the ropes. “I liked it,” you finally admit. “I really liked it.”

His minstrations pauses momentarily, hands sliding down to wrap around your waist as he pulls back enough to look down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly. “You’re…not just saying that to please me, are you?”

You can’t help the playful groan that you let out, followed by a small chuckle as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. 

“Only you could give a woman the best orgasm of her life and still question whether she liked it,” you tease, practically feeling the way Dammon rolls his eyes at you.

A small squeal escapes you as Dammon wraps his arms around you more securly as he flips you onto your back again, head hitting the pillow as he hovers over your, lips turned upwards playfully.

“If you think that was the best…I think I have more work to do.”

Your brows wing up in surprise, lips aprting slightly as your mind runs wild with the possibilities. “Is that a challenge, you’re proposing?” you ask.

Dammon smiles, humming low in his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to your jaw. “It might be,” he aquecies. “But for now, i’d just like to hold you and maybe run you a bath. If you’d be so inclined.”

Warmth swells in your chest at his words. Even after something most would consider debacuhed, Dammon still manages to be the sweetest thing in the room. You turn and press a quick kiss to his lips before reching up to wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I’d Love nothing more.”

He smiles and plops down next to you on the bed, gathering you in his arms as he does so. His chin rests on the top of your head as you nuzzle into his chest, your leg tangling with his own until you’re both settled comfortably against one another. 

Comfortable silence fills the space, Dammon trailing light patterns on your back, as you do the same on his chest - both of you just taking a moment to bask in the other's presence. Until Dammon finally speaks up.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to do this,” he tells you softly, voice gentle. 

You nod, moving to slip your arms around his waist, scooting closer to him. “Of course,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you, Dammon.”

You feel his lips press against the crown of your head. 

“I love you more.”

[ohbo-ohno]

Hello my dear! I am obsessed with your Ghoap x reader content, checking you blog on the daily 💕

I have had this thought stuck in my head for days, as lots of fall themed drinks and decor is popping up around me. Not sure if this fits with your vision, but thought I would at least share!

I imagine that the reader being confined to the apartment, without any access to the outside world, would really mess with her like internal clock, especially during the first few months. So I think that they might lose the sense of seasons changing until like one of the boys comes home with a to-go coffee cup with a fall pattern on it. The reader taking notice of this detail and gets excited to see something festive from the outside world maybe evening picking the cup up to take a closer look, but dropping it quickly if questioned about it. The reader suddenly processing how much time they have been held here and how the outside world just keeps going without them.

Ghost noticing the reader’s interest in the cup and making sure to stop at the same place the next day try. Hoping to collect more data or something. Coming home with the same cup again and upon seeing the readers interest, reminds them that if there is anything they want they just have to ask.

The reader seems like they want something, but just mumble something like “it’s stupid, just leave it alone” still not wanting to let them really take care of them. Soap reminder them that if it is import to the reader it’s important to them. with comforting from both of the boys they finally manage to get the reader speak up saying something like “if you stop at that place again, I wouldn’t a pumpkin hot chocolate”Soap immediately grabbing his coat to go get them one.

Thinking how this little interaction might lead to them suggesting other fun fall activities. (maybe not carving pumpkins though unsure if Simon would let the reader have a knife at this point haha)

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed 💕

-🎃(if not taken already)

hello anon i love you!!!!!

hngggg ghost and soap wandering through a hobby lobby and just chucking every fall themed thing they can in their cart bc they have no idea what kinds of decorations you like. you go red in the face trying to hold back laughs when johnny proudly presents you with a "happy fall, y'all!" throw pillow

also the potential angst of them trying to recreate your favorite festivities inside with you :( you're torn between just letting go and enjoying what they let you do and staying angry because you should be doing these things out there.

drawing a design on a pumpkin and pouting when ghost carves it for you. they comfort you by saying you're having a contest, you and ghost against johnny, and ghost tries his best to get you into it with trash talk. maybe you giggle a little at the insults thrown back and forth, despite your determination to remain stoic. you and ghost win and you refuse to think about johnny letting you, instead choose to rub it in his face how much better your pumpkin is

[psychedelic-ink]

— PICK ME | FRANKIE'S ENDING

happy belated birthday @pedrito-friskito 💜💜💜💜 this gift is from both me and @inklore we love you so so much and I hope you had the best birthday ever! thank you for always being such a wonderful friend 💗

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

genre: fluff, mild angst, second chance romance, smut

summary: you decide to head to frankie's. there's still too many emotions lingering between you and it would be a shame not to give it another chance.

warnings: oral (female receiving), a hint of hurt/comfort

word count: 2k

click to head back to the start

You decide to go with Frankie. 

You can’t deny the chemistry you have with Santi, and your curiosity might forever gnaw at your brain, but you and Frankie have something special. You just have to see it through before jumping into something else, something new. 

Since Frankie’s car broke down prior to the wedding, the two of you take a cab instead. 

“Where to?” the cab driver asks and Frankie blanks for a moment, eyes darting to you. 

“I. . . actually haven’t thought about where we should go,” he looks sheepish, scratching the back of his head. He’s not wearing his signature ballcap, his hands feeling lost as the nerves start to get the better of him. “Would it be okay if we head to my place? I got wine?” 

“Wine sounds good,” you answer with a smile. He lets out a sigh of relief and gives the driver the address, without wait the car drives off from the venue. The first seconds are spent in complete silence, his fingers drumming against his knees while he stares out the window, the lights of the city bouncing off his handsome countenance. You find it endearing. Reaching out, you press your hand against the curve of his knee, fingers squeezing gently. He jumps before turning to you. “Relax,” you say. “It’s okay. You’re not alone in this. I. . . I’ve been thinking about you too.” 

“Really?” his genuine surprise breaks your heart. Dark eyes search yours before exhaling a loud breath and collapsing to the seat. “Good, I was worried there for a second.” 

“Worried?” you ask. “Why?” 

“Well,” he clears his throat. “‘Cause of Pope.” 

Oh, so he noticed. 

You squeeze his knee again before letting go and settling further into your own seat. “You have nothing to worry about. It’s in the past, whatever it was.” 

“You never mentioned it when we were together.” 

You’re not sure if he’s accusing you of something but you feel defensive anyway, “I didn’t think it was relevant. And nothing happened.” 

You cross your arms and look out the window, familiar silhouette of buildings passes by, bright lights flickering back at you as the shadows grow longer. You feel his hand on your cheek, his thumb drawing gentle lines over your skin as he urges you to look back. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, baby, I know nothing happened,” he smiles when you meet his gaze. “I just didn’t know how you felt is all. You could’ve told me, I would have understood.” 

“I didn’t think there was anything to tell,” you murmur. “It happened a long time ago, he backed away and I just thought I read the signals wrong. I guess with the wedding he realized he had some regrets.” 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I could never back away from you,” his voice falls into a whisper, his fingers sliding to your chin, he tugs you closer. “I’m not that strong, querida. Even tonight I couldn’t pull away from you, even if I know that us staying apart is probably for the best.” 

Frankie's words hang in the air. You’re caught off guard, stuck between wanting to console him and wanting to talk about the issues you had while together. The cab's interior seems to shrink around you, your heart shattering as he drops his gaze away from you.

Despite the loss of his gaze, his thumb continues to trace gentle patterns on your chin. His touch comforting. Keeping you grounded. 

With a deep breath, you cradle his face with both hands, forcing his gaze back— you close the distance between you, your lips softly meeting his in a kiss that is better from the movies. Time seems to stand still as your lips linger against his, conveying more than words ever could.

When you pull away, a mixture of emotions plays across Frankie's features—surprise, relief, and a lingering trace of uncertainty. His hand drops from your chin to rest on your thigh, his fingers gently squeezing.

"Wow," he breathes, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I wasn't expecting that."

You chuckle softly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. "Thank you for always choosing me without hesitation, Frankie. I. . . I appreciate it, no matter how this ends."

“Of course, mi amor, always.” 

As the cab approaches Frankie's apartment, he leans in to press a quick, affectionate kiss to your cheek. "I hope you're not regretting this," he says softly, his eyes searching yours once more.

You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips. "I never could regret you, Frankie."

He nods, seemingly content with your response. The cab comes to a stop in front of his building, and you both step out onto the sidewalk.

You step out of the cab and onto the sidewalk in front of Frankie's apartment building, you're suddenly aware of the cab driver who has been witness to this entire exchange. The reality of the situation makes your cheeks heat up and a nervous laughter bubbles from your lips.

"Uh, sorry about that," you mumble to the cab driver, avoiding eye contact as you scratch the back of your head.  

The cab driver chuckles knowingly. "No worries. Just another day in the city, right?"

Before you can respond, you feel Frankie's arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close protectively. His presence is reassuring, and you glance up at him with a shy smile.

"Yeah, just another day," Frankie chimes in, his voice light as he gives you a gentle squeeze. "Thanks for the ride."

The cab driver nods with a grin. "Anytime. Have a great evening, you two."

While the cab pulls away, you and Frankie share a sheepish smile.

"I guess we really made that driver's day," you say, shaking your head in amusement.

Frankie chuckles, his grip on your waist relaxing but still there. With Frankie's arm around you, you make your way into the building and head up to his apartment.

Frankie heads over to the kitchen, rummaging through his cabinets to find the promised bottle of wine. You take a moment to look around his place, feeling a sense of familiarity mixed with anticipation.

"Found it," Frankie announces, holding up a bottle of red wine triumphantly.

You join him in the kitchen, watching as he deftly uncorks the bottle and pours the wine into glasses. The atmosphere is relaxed now, a sense of ease settling between you two which you’re grateful for. You take a sip, watching him from over the rim as he does the same. 

“I’ve missed this,” you say silently. “And I’ve missed you.” 

Frankie takes another sip with a smile, holding the wine in his mouth, he comes closer and tilts your head up. His eyes search yours momentarily, and knowing the nudge that he needs, you part your lips, “Kiss me.” 

And he does. 

You part your lips for him, swallowing the wine that pours from his lips, it’s bittersweet as it goes down your throat, some of it spilling from the corners of your lips. You fumble a bit as you put the wine glass down, your hands coming up to fist his shirt as he deepens the kiss with a tilt of his head, licking further into your mouth as if trying to catch the remaining red jewels on your tongue. 

You let out an involuntary moan as Frankie deepens the kiss and his hands slide up your legs, pushing your dress up further around your waist. One hand snakes its way around your waist while the other reaches up to caress your face, thumb resting right at the corner of your lips as he softly bites your tongue. His tongue parts your mouth to explore further. 

You take in a shuddering breath, Frankie's lips still on yours as your hands coil around his neck tugging him closer to you, your breath coming in short gasps as the intensity of the kiss takes over both of you. His hands move from your face down to your neck, exploring every inch of you, making your body shudder with pleasure.

Frankie slides his hand down your neck and down your torso, leaving a trail of fire in his path. He pulls away from the kiss, pushing your dress up further as he reaches down and slides your underwear down before leaving it in a pile on the kitchen floor. He stands between your legs as he leans down and recaptures your lips with his. 

His kisses are hungry, as though he has been waiting patiently for this moment for weeks, ravenous in his eagerness to taste you. His tongue tangles with yours, exploring the depths of your mouth as though it was his first time. You feel yourself shudder over and over as he gives your lower lip a gentle suck and nibble, sending warmth down your spine. 

“God, I can’t get enough of you, querida,” he whispers into your mouth. You yelp when he roughly tugs down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts to him, both tingling and aching to feel his mouth. “Look at that, so hard for me,” he groans as the pads of his thumbs feel the pebbled flesh 

He works his way down, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder before paying special attention to your nipples, gently flicking them with his tongue and sucking on them making you gasp out in pleasure. His hands come up to cup your face as he slides his tongue down your stomach, licking and tasting you until he reaches your core, his mouth parting and devouring every inch of you.

Frankie's tongue slides between your folds, exploring every inch of you, and you arch your back into him, a loud moan easily slipping from your lips. His tongue delves deeper, licking along the edges of your entrance before curling around your clit. Your eyes roll back and your jaw falls open, your chest heaving at the pressure of his mouth.

He stops for a moment, teasing you further before pushing into you with his tongue, his wetness making you gasp in pleasure. “Are you feeling good, baby?” he murmurs with a humorous lilt. “Sounds like you are.” You grab his shoulders and grip them tightly as Frankie circles your clit with his tongue, gently tugging on it in a constant rhythm, his deep chuckle reverberates in your cunt, making you moan out loud.  

Frankie adds his fingers, pushing two inside you, gently spreading you open wider as he licks and sucks your clit. His touch is gentle, but insistent, and he sends wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body. 

“F-Frankie—I’m gonna–” you can’t even finish your sentence before another moan breaks from you. He briefly looks up to you, smiling. 

“Come on then, sweetheart, don’t keep me waiting,” his breath fans your soaked core and you tremble. “I want every single drop.” 

You cry out, your hips pushing against his hand as he increases the pressure and tempo, his tongue and his fingers working in tandem to take you to the brink of orgasm. You moan his name, desperate for relief, and he doesn't disappoint as he sucks on your clit, sending you over the edge and into a blissful state of ecstasy. Your entire body clenches, flooding his mouth simultaneously as your muscles go lax. He laps at your cunt, tasting every drop. 

“That’s it, that’s my good fucking girl, making a mess for me—” he groans, giving your clit one final suck before coming back up to your eye line with a lazy smile. 

Once the waves of pleasure have finally subsided, you collapse against him, completely spent. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and it's in this moment that you realize it’s always going to be Frankie by your side. You can’t imagine feeling this safe and comfortable with anyone else. 

Frankie's breath tickles your ear, “How about we head to bed and I can really show you how much I’ve missed you.” 

“Hmm,” you smile, pulling away from the warmth of his chest. “Not if I show you how much I’ve missed you first.” 

[bloodiedrogue]

RUNNING AWAY IS EASY

PAIRINGS: Loki Laufeyson & Gender Neutral Reader

SUMMARY: After a mission gone wrong you find yourself on Loki's doorstep.

WORD COUNT: 2,900

WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of current/previous abuse (mostly verbal, some physical), unhappy ending, right person wrong time.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Life's sorta rough right now so the thought of writing anything happy is kind of hard so have a sad fic?

MASTERLIST

-

You never thought you’d be in this position. Bloodied, bruised —banging on his door in the middle of the night. At this rate, you’d assumed you were well past that phase. Opting to choose a life of simple pleasantries over dangerous adventures. Over the last little while, you’d been getting better. Becoming the kind of person that was prone to thinking things through instead of mindlessly running through the fire. 

To your peers, you’d become cautious and thoughtful. To your friends, helpful and trustworthy. To him though, a traitor, most likely. An abandoner. “A spineless git with no morals,” he’d called you. 

Which is why you’re surprised to see his face when he opens the door. The way, almost immediately, it transitions from anger to worry, his eyes softening at the initial blow of your appearance. 

“Hi.”

He’s obviously apprehensive at first. His brows, pointed upward in a rage, become mere ghosts of themselves as they fall into sadness, surveying the giant gash across your forehead. It’s bleeding, he notices, but not in a way that he’s able to brush aside and send you on your way, causing him to huff and push open the door. 

Wordlessly, you duck your head beneath his extended arm, hearing him close it behind and follow you through the familiar apartment. Predictably, everything looks exactly as it did all those years ago. The main bookshelf sits directly in front of you still bursting at the seams —stacks of fiction and non taking up the majority of the room’s space. In almost every corner he’s got various plants, from cacti to foliage, all of them blooming with life. 

Unlike before though, the walls are completely bare, devoid of pictures or paintings or anything resembling the form of a memory. Your memory. 

“Come.”

You turn to see him already standing near the dining able, a hand placed sternly against the back of a chair while the other motions you close. “Don’t want you bleeding all over my rug.”

A small scoff escapes you as you listen, realizing not much has changed. He’s still the same insensitive Loki, caring deeply for anything but you. “Right, sorry.” 

“If you were truly sorry you wouldn’t be here.”

Fucking hell.

You open your mouth to respond but quickly stop, knowing that he’s right. If you were anything other than selfish you would’ve found someone else —someone you hadn’t hurt. Someone you hadn’t left in the heat of an argument that was never meant to be the end.

“Fair enough.”

You walk over without another word, using your last bit of energy to fall onto the chair and watch him raise his hands, focusing on the sedir inside his body. At first, it’s painfully mesmerizing, watching the way his fingertips glow under the dimness of the room. Across your vision freckles of green appear seemingly out of nowhere, making you sigh. Until now, it was sight you never thought you’d miss. One that sends an ache through your chest as you watch him draw patterns in the air before moving to swipe across your aching wound. 

His touch is rougher than you remember it to be —a hard press of pain that shoots through your skull. You cringe at the impact but refuse to make noise, knowing he’ll most likely chastise you in some way if you do. So instead you just sit there, eyes closed, mouth sewn shut as you ignore the inevitable threat of movement across your injuries. 

“It seems you’ve grown weaker since we’ve last spoke.”

You spare a glance with one eye, noticing that smirk. That stupid, ridiculous breath-stealing smirk that has you pressing your lips further together just before he circles around to check your back. 

Much like the rest of you it’s riddled in cuts and bruises thanks to an attacker you hadn’t seen coming. The same attacker that managed to graze your face with the end of his blade. 

“Shut up, Laufeyson.”

You half expect him to laugh. He used to always laugh when winning arguments. Full blown chest shaking ones that’d rock you to your core. You used to love hearing them. The way they’d erupt, seemingly out of nowhere. One moment the words exchanged between you would be harsh and heated —blow back after blow back until you’d inevitably give up, too tired to go on. Oftentimes he’d hear you mutter a defeated comment under your breath and that’s when he’d strike, his mouth opening to reveal that silver-tongue of death. 

“I see your confrontational abilities haven’t improved much either.” 

It’s tempting to respond. To say something you know you only half mean. A part of you wants to fall into that same, old pattern of ridicule. To puncture his ego with anything readily available. Regardless of the faults, you want to show him you’ve still got what it takes to keep up in the ring. To throw punches like the best of them. 

Like before, you open your mouth to do so but quickly close it, wanting to be better. The desire to win in a way that isn’t dirty now heavy on your mind as you feel his sedir trail along another cut. Similarly to before, it’s heavy in weight, a sudden heat forming at the highest point. Slowly, it stays in one spot, hovering at the worst point before eventually gravitating down, following the bloodstains until it’s completely closed.

Once it is, you let out a sigh, an air of relief flooding through your system as he continues his work, moving from one physical trauma to the next. Eventually, you count eight injuries before he stops. 

By then, his breath is heavy and ragged and, as he circles back around to face you, you can see how exhausted he looks. 

“I don’t think I’m capable of much more,” he admits, raising a hand to his face. He rubs his left eye and yawns, secretly ignoring the way your expression fills with sudden adoration. 

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him like this. So exposed. On the battlefield, he’s all about the performance. The way he’s perceived against the enemy. Outside the comfort of his home, he needs all eyes to be on him and for those eyes to believe he’s the most dangerous and cunning man in the room. It’s all he’s known. 

Here though, he’s nothing like that. Here, despite the dangers you’ve faced amongst his presence —despite the throwing of harsh words between you, you see nothing but a tired man. A simple, sleepy man, filled to the brim with an empathy you know you don’t deserve. 

Without another word he sits across from you, resting his elbows on the table. Out of habit he runs this hands through his hair, starting at the root as he bows his head and yawns again, feeling himself drift. 

“Thank you, Lo,” you say but as he looks up at you, staring almost wide-eyed at the mention of a name he hasn’t heard in years you quickly correct yourself. “Loki.”

“Just take better care of yourself next time.” 

His words are harsh, pushed through clenched teeth. His eyes narrow and once again his brows raise, signalling a misstep in your response. 

Desperately, you want to correct it. The temptation to fix whatever broke between the two you now becomes ever-present as you stare, watching the way he turns, suddenly overwhelmed by the apologetic look you offer. 

“I know you probably want nothing to do with me,” you start, voice creaking through the air, barely above a whisper. “But seriously Loki, thank you. For healing me a-and for dealing with me and just—“

“If you’re working your way up to an apology for previous discussions I’d highly advise against it.”

Without hesitation you frown. “Can I ask why?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because past conversations are irrelevant.” 

“Are they?”

“Yes, very much so, actually.”

His responses feel calculated. Rehearsed. As if he’s spent years practicing each and every outcome on the off chance you’d find your way back to him. It’s impressive, really. Annoying also, but deep down, despite the tiny itch of rage that builds each time he shuts you down you can’t help but admit he’s still got it. That infuriating ability to slip beneath your skin and hunker down until the perfect moment. 

Moving to stand, you place both palms on the table to help steady your balance, still feeling a bit woozy. “Okay, fine, but just know I didn’t come here for anything other than a medic.” 

“A medic?” he parrots, scoffing. “You and I both know you came here with intentions far iller than yourself.” 

Scoffing back, you watch him stand as well, his frame pulling your gaze up to match his. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re trying to apologize for things that no longer matter,” he states. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Actually, I’m not.”

“Actually, you are. And you’re doing a rather shit job at hiding it.”

He’s right. He’s winning and he’s right and in that moment all you can do is sigh and palm the sockets of your eyes out of frustration because —fuck, he’s right. And you have to live with that. 

“You can’t lie to me. You never could and lucky for you, you never will.” 

“Why? Because you’re the fucking god of lies?” you mock, scrunching up your face in disgust just as growls under his breath and pushes the table aside, clearing the space between you.

It’s the first time in years you’ve seen him in his entirety. The first time you’ve seen his wild hair and pissed off eyes that don’t even think to scan you back as he rushes toward you, grabbing your face in the process. It’s the first time you’ve seen his shoulders as they flex forward, moving his arms and hands to push you against the wall. The first time you’ve seen his chest and hips and legs, all working together to make sure you know he’s standing in front of you. 

And that he hates you for it. 

Clenching his teeth, you feel him flex his hand against your jaw. The sudden tightness of it jerking beneath his fingertips. For a brief moment you feel it click your bone out of place, the pressure of his palm becoming too much, forcing you to whine as you try and pull back. 

“Why are you here? Why did you come?” 

You can hear the pain in his voice as he speaks but you can’t respond to it. You’re in too much pain. 

“Was it to gloat? To flaunt your new life right in front of my face rather than from the sidelines?”

You groan, trying your best to push him off but you’re still sore from your mission. Your bones, still too fragile to deal with this much exertion, sting alongside muscles too exhausted to even try and best him. 

“Because believe me, I’m well aware of the persona you’ve been upholding. All the lies you’ve been telling them. About how perfect and loyal and—“

Somehow through his rant he loosens his hold, granting you the opportunity to shove him aside and double over, your frame crumpling to the floor. 

Inside, all you can feel is the pain of his touch. The way it manages to do onto you what you did to him all those years ago. In that moment, you can feel the betrayal in his fingertips. The severance of the ties you once had, cutting through your heart. No longer does the need to remedy this thing between you exist. Now, all that remains is the guilt. The acceptance of all the times you thought he was wrong for how he felt. You can understand it now. See it all from a perspective less selfish than your own.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I’m sorry I left you.”

Both of you are crying, staring at the other despite barely being able to see through the sea of tears that collect above tired eyes. 

“I’m sorry I lied.” 

Slowly, Loki moves towards the floor to match your height, kneeling before you. Immediately, he raises his hands with caution, readying his sedir to fix whatever you need regardless of if you’ve earned it.

“I’m sorry I left things as long as I did.”

He places his fingertips against your jaw, watching it tremble through the healing process. 

“I’m sorry I’m here. I’m sorry for bothering you, I’ll just go.“ 

Once his hand leaves your face you stand up and move to the door, ignoring the way your body screams for you to stop and go back and keep apologizing until he’s—

His hand is around your wrist before you can do anything else. His fingers, no longer filled with the intention of pain, lightly press themselves against your skin, motioning you to come back. 

“I know you are,” he says then. “I know.” 

You force your eyes in the opposite direction, focusing on the door as they half close, exhaustion taking over despite wanting to keep the conversation going. To talk like you used to as friends over a cup of tea or wine. More than anything you want to sit with your legs crossed on his couch, taking up enough space so that the edges of your knee press up against the outside of his thigh. To hear him complain about anything and everything. To see him scowl when you make a sassy comment in response. To exist in each other’s space without feeling like an enemy.

“Please don’t go.”

It’s the anguish in his voice that gets you. The reaction so visceral you find yourself gasping when you hear it. In your mind, it’s sounds nothing like the Loki you remember. In it there’s no sarcastic wit or unbridled charisma —just discomfort and immediately, it pulls you in without much thought. Your widened eyes watching as his hands rise to your cheeks. 

At first they’re delicate in their movements, prodding your skin with an almost guilty curiosity. Each digit taking it’s time to memorize your once unfamiliar features. “I missed you, you know. Despite it all,” he says, his fingers trailing the underside of your lip ever so slightly, making you swallow whatever sound you feel rising through your throat, knowing this is bad. That this is wrong and stupid and that him standing here, holding you as if he’s suddenly molded around you, is the last thing that should be happening. 

And both of you know it.

And quickly, both of you choose to ignore it. 

You’re not sure who leans in first. Maybe it’s you, desperate to make things right, or him, unwilling to pass up a missed opportunity. Either way, eventually the two of you meet in the middle —a mess of teeth and tongue and little regard for much else. Both of you move so desperately that your limbs bump without apology, tangling in positions you haven’t felt in so long. 

Firmly, his hands hold your head against the floor, steadying the swirl of thoughts that race as you pull him closer, groaning in annoyance that you haven’t instantaneously become one entity. 

How unfair, you think.

Leaning over you, he kneels between your thighs, holding you flush. Roughly, his forearms rest against the space where your shoulders turn to chest —where tendons and ligaments and bone all work together to move your hands toward his face. When they arrive, your fingers linger on his chin, each pad resting on the natural divots that occur. Against his lips you try to release a breath, feeling the roughness of his mouth begin to suck the air right out of you like a leech. Taking from you all that he needs —all that he wants and desires as you realize that, despite wanting this, it’s still wrong. 

That you and him together is a divine corruption of what you think you deserve.

Second guessing your movements, you press your lips together in a straight line, closing the gates. Immediately, it makes him stop. His body suddenly growing embarrassingly tense as he pulls away, staring as if you’ve just shoved his most beloved dagger into the gaping hole of his now broken chest. 

“I’m—“

“—Sorry.” 

You scan his face and see his hopeless eyes. The way they barely open as they search your face for hints of what’s to come. It makes you swallow hard just as his mouth falls agape but quickly shuts, both of you knowing that despite needing to speak neither of you can because what if you ruin it? What if you overstep and underwhelm? What if you say something ridiculous and cause an uproar? Or say nothing and find yourself back to square one?

A million questions run through your mind as you attempt to slide out from under him, watching the way he no longer protests. Instead, he merely crawls the opposite direction, using his knuckles to readjust as he watches you move to prop yourself against the wall. 

“I’m, I —uh…”

You stop, watching as he follows suit, pushing himself backwards until he’s hitting the opposite wall, mirroring the way your back presses against plaster.

The tension is palpable. It itches across your skin in waves, pushing underneath the surface of your skin as you stare at his flushed face and swollen lips, wishing just once that everything between you could be easy. 

-

TAGGING: @lovelysizzlingbluebird, @just-someone11, @linaax, @eleniblue, @infinitystoner, @ozymdias, @use-your-telescope, @liminalpebble, @freegardenbanananeck, @lokixryss, @unlucky-number-13, @violethaze, @simplyholl, @coldnique, @mischief2sarawr, @jasperthechaosgremlin @evelyn-kingsley (if you’d like to be added fill out this form)

[validarete]

dating lo’ak as a human

| warnings : fluff, spelling mistakes?, my writing not being proofread, shit writing in general

some people give him a hard time for being with a human considering you and him will never be able to reproduce and what not

that doesn’t stop lo’ak from loving you as much as he loves himself, he’s such a simp for you and it’s crazy

whenever he’s out hunting with neteyam or jake and finds something you may like, he’ll bring it back to you but you don’t get it that easy.. this boy waves it above your reach until he gives in and actually gives it to you

since you always have that stupid mask on, he can’t kiss you. so whenever you don’t have to have the mask on, he kisses you sooo much and is always touching your face. his hands are so big compared to your tiny human face that it kinda makes it hard to cup when he kisses you

you guys struggle to hold hands, so you hold his pinky instead. this is probably the thing he goes crazy about most, he just loves it so much 🤷🏻‍♀️ he just loves knowing he’s so much bigger than you which gives him more protection over you

your the reason he doesn’t risk his life doing idiotic acts, he realised that if he wants a future with you then he needs to pull his head in and expect to praise him for it cause this boy needs it

sometimes lo’ak gets insecure, well not sometimes, a lot. he thinks you’d leave him for someone better than him like neteyam, which is not the truth at all. you have to reassure him that you love him and only him, whenever you cup his face with your tiny hands and tell him that you only want him he gets crazy butterflies and goes all shy

speaking of shy, this boy goes shy over the littlest things.. show him any type of affection in public? shy. pamper his face with kisses? shy. cuddle into him when your cold? shy. he gets flustered easily and that’s okay (and vv cute)

likes knowing that he’s the dominant one in the relationship (i don’t mean that in a sexual way) he likes being all big boyfriend all the time buttttt, when it’s just you and lo’ak are alone all he wants is to cuddle into your neck, lay his head on your tummy and kiss him

loves when you draw patterns on him, when your tired and not quite asleep yet you draw things onto him. when he lays his head on your tummy and you draw patterns and things into the lower of the back of his neck he falls asleep so fast, sometimes he lays there looking up at you as he feels your fingertips draw little hearts onto his skin

admires your face when your asleep or just doing anything in general, you could just be playing with tuk and he’ll stand in the distance with a small smile on his face. watching you play with his little sister with the biggest grin outstretched on your lips, lo’ak sometimes wonders how he pulled you

[pitiplush]

Hey there!!

I was wondering if you could help me out a little bit! I already saw that you don't sell your crochet patterns, so I won't ask about that, but I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks for making dolls like the large Alex and Henry you made!

I'm a senior in college and I have a thesis project that I have to make. I'm considering making a crochet stop-motion animation for it!

Do you have any methods or tutorials you follow in order to make them so poseable and detailed? I noticed in the WIP photos that they have a wire skeleton! I'm also super impressed by the clothing and hair!

If you don't have any tips or anything, that's alright! I understand! I just thought I'd ask! 🙂

Hi! Of course, I'm going to try to explain everything to the best of my abilities ☺️ If you have more doubts afterwards, you can message me anytime you want!

I can't really point you to any tutorials because at this point I just do my own thing and in the case of Alex and Henry I designed the body pattern taking into consideration that the clothes will be independent pieces. Most patterns that I've seen directly crochet the body as if it is wearing the clothes, like, for example if you want your doll to wear a red sweater, the torso and arms are crocheted in red. I think that's easier and the results are nice as well. My chibi amigurumis are crocheted like that, they have less mobility because they're really small, but that same technique in a bigger amigurumi will give you both the mobility and the advantage of not having to crochet so many pieces.

Now some tips for the mobility:

— A wire skeleton, as you've mentioned! It's not a perfect solution because sometimes the wire isn't strong enough to keep weird poses, but it helps! This video tutorial is in Spanish, but it's really visual and it shows how to add a wire skeleton. Honestly it was the best video that I saw back in the day, when I was looking for tutorials for this same thing.

— You can use pipe cleaners instead of wire as well, although they're weaker.

— Don't stuff the arms.

— Not too much stuffing on the legs/waist so there's enough room when you pose the amigurumi. Just a little bit less, enough for the piece to be firm but have mobility. If your legs are thin, don't stuff them, like with the arms.

— Now, another perk to crocheting the body as if it was already clothed is that it helps with mobility too. More layers of clothing means the movement will be more hindered.

— Crochet the head as an independent piece. I'll put on a couple of pics so it's easier to understand, but basically what you need to do is, once you've reached your desired width for the neck, keep crocheting rounds with the exact same amount of stitches until you have a tube. When finished, make sure to stuff it very tightly (or put pipe cleaners inside) and close it. After that, to crochet the head, start by creating a similar tube, so the neck tube fits inside the head tube. Once you've got the size you need for your tube it's only a matter of crocheting the rest of the head as you would normally.

(I'm deeply sorry for that awful, awful drawing, I just thought it would help illustrate my point better but I'm not especially good at drawing on my phone)

— Use pins and skewers (like the ones for food). You can edit them out afterwards and that's probably the best tip because an amigurumi is a plushie and its mobility is never going to be really great 😅

These photos are unedited, that's why they're so dark but ANYWAYS, see the skewers on their backs in the first photo? And the pin keeping their hands together in the second? Think of them as aids for your purpose. Alex and Henry can stand on their own if you manage to find the perfect balance but oooof it IS frustrating. The amount of times I've managed to pose one and just then the other falls flat on his little face... AWFUL.

And for the clothes... it depends a bit on what you're crocheting I guess????? Although I highly recommend to not be like me and get obsessed with making everything in a single piece, sometimes it works better when the details are crocheted apart and then sewn or glued to the main piece. Like for example, for the jackets, the body is one piece and the neck is a different one, I just sewn them together with a row of single crochets.

Also most of the time the easier way to do something is the best way. Since crochet have certain limitations, it's important to keep in mind that sometimes it's better to simplify. This depends on the size of the amigurumi and the size of the piece, but yep, as one of my uni professors used to say: parsimoooooooony (or follow the Ockham's razor).

Another thing!!! Learn some basic embroidery techniques and how to do surface slip stitches, they can go a long way to make a piece seem more detailed! And use other materials like felt too!

I can't think of anything else right now. I tried to be as clear as I could but it's kinda hard to explain all of this when English is not your first language 😅 Anyway, I hope you find these tips interesting and you can always ask me again anytime!

[lovebvni]

Hey! I don’t know if you do readings for free or not, feel free to ignore this if you don’t, but I’m wondering if I could get a reading on manifesting/shifting?

I know I have the ability to do anything and I truly believe that, and yet every night when I go to sleep with the intention to shift, I still wake up aware of my Cr instead. I feel like I’m stuck, because I know nothing but me is holding me back but I don’t know how to make it so I’m not.

Also, I saw one of your other reading things, what do you need to know about me? I’ll put some basic personality stuff though.

very creative, like to sing/draw/write ,believe anything is possible, kinda hate myself, love all people and have a large amount of caring for my fellow beings. <3

Thank you for taking the time to read!

-Parrot

hellooo parrot! such a cool name btw!! i used to want a bird before i realized i was scared of them.

i saw u sent another ask but i literally cannot find it!? augh :( IM SOO SORRY!!

i’m rlly creative too! i’m a theater kid, so yeah!! art, singing. dancing, acting, you name it i’ll try it! other than tap. i hate tap w a passion. it hurts my ankles !! i love people too! and i do have issues w self love as well. i sometimes js random laugh at something i thought and say i hate myself :( it’s a bad habit o need to get out of!

AND LOVE URSELF! U HAVE A COOL ASS NAME THAT BRINGS SO MUCH COLOUR TO UR LIFE! BE COLOURFUL, BOLD AND BRIGHT TO URSELF TOO!! UR SUPER WORTH IT!!!!!

so i’m gonna take ur question as a general shifting/manifesting advice. if i got it wrong, i can n will redo this for u!

first off i wanna say, you’re soft. like i heard “soft heart, soft voice, soft soul” from spirit. i don’t particularly know why but maybe it will come up

and when reading “I know I have the ability to do anything and I truly believe that, and yet every night when I go to sleep with the intention to shift, I still wake up aware of my Cr instead. I feel like I’m stuck, because I know nothing but me is holding me back but I don’t know how to make it so I’m not.” i instantly heard “no you don’t” from spirit.

you believe this because you’re trying to force yourself to, not because you actually believe it. you think you’re too weak and unworthy to shift — to gain any happiness in life, and that’s why you’re so giving and loving to others. you want that, and this is what you do so you can say you deserve it (5:55 rn)

u don’t need to “deserve “ anything to get it. you js need to want it, and have that fire under ur ass to grab it.

you’re not someone who gives up, i’ll tell you that, but you’re like clay. you always have a solid form, but you haven’t gone through the fire yet to be sturdy.

do you want to? yeah! but u keep letting little things get to you and mess up your design, your pattern.

you need to stop letting words or, what you see as, “consequences” get in the way of being happy.

waking up in what you think is ur cr is truly just a parallel reality in which you are closer to shifting. trust me. ive shifted to a different reality.

she bangs like a fairy on acid is a very interesting song to come on. at first i was like “maybe i’m not tapped into the right energy” but no — i definitely am.

it can be seen as falling back into an addiction that isn’t helping you get better or gain life.

“but listen to the fairy in the forest. she tells me that she wants it…” it’s giving into those old habits that you don’t particularly want, but you’re sacrificing yourself for.

get out of this energy. it’s not selfish to want to do better. isolate yourself.

and i don’t know if you’re doing anything or not, but try to cut back if you are.

i love u parrot!!! i hope all goes well :D

[shannonsketches]

What are your thoughts about Ganondorf and his relationship with his people (OoT timelines)? I personally think he started out with the intent to bring them a better home in Hyrule or at least stop Hyrule's constant attacks on them due to the gerudos refusing to give up their sovereignity by joining them like all the other races were forced to do during the height of the wars. (The racism against them in the game is pretty extreme so I think they were at war and taking shots at each other since the beginning of said wars, which I believe were 100 years long? Probably longer due to the thing I'm mentioning). So that was why he first went after the Triforce, hoping it'd grant him the wish to take Hyrule and end all his people's suffering. Instead he was left with just Power and had to make do while trying to get Wisdom and Courage. Then went totally batshit along the way due to all the pressure of having to defend himself, his people, and deal with all that new power for 7 years. Also sorry for this block of text.

I'm not gonna draw this one because I need to warn you in advance that I was working on an OoT Gan backstory comic for like ten years prior to even Skyward Sword's release, so my view on this is skewed HEAVILY toward OoT and I haven't done a ton of work headcanoning re: TotK's information, but, generally, YEAH. So, the way I wrote Ganondorf is not totally unlike TotK, the biggest difference is that obviously in TotK Ganondorf is not only alive during the civil war but an active leader during said war. In OoT I headcanoned him much younger, and that he was born into an immediately post-war Gerudo Valley that was torn up and freshly having lost a civil war, in which Twinrova was leading a diplomatic olive branch effort toward Hyrule to maintain peace (and of course set up a chess game for the new Gerudo king). So my headcanon is that he was raised very strictly by Twinrova (god I'm so sad Smackjeeves went down, I had comic pages from back in the day up that display it haha), and was initially very isolated from his people, and for a long time knew more about Hylian culture than his own (which is part of why his costuming is so different than anything else we see in Gerudo Valley and is more Hylian in terms of armor and patterning overall, save for the few pieces of Gerudo patterning, which reflect Twinrova more than anything). So as he gets older and gets more involved with his people and has to keep coming back to this desert after experiencing the climates in the fields and town and really being able to change Nothing, he gets frustrated with the realization that he's essentially a king in decoration only, despite being a "Divine" king in birth, and that's where his bitterness toward the gods starts festering. They don't listen, and he feels helpless, but ah, there is an ancient story about a way to fix that, isn't there? So he gets obsessed, and his people fall to the wayside, and he's back to focusing primarily on Hyrule. The triforce becomes the only thing he really cares about, and sure, he tells himself it's for his people, and believes it's true, but deep down it's about him, and it's about control, and revenge -- not just against Hyrule, not just for the war, but against the gods themselves, for the situation they've saddled him with. And the triforce requires a perfect bearer, yes? He's balanced, he's powerful, he's smart, he's brave, he's got this. Except he's ANGRY. He's So Angry. And so the triforce Splits, and it leaves him with what he really wants.

Power.

And the corruption bleeds out of the sacred realm and all throughout Hyrule, and it's hilarious. Now they all get to suffer like the Gerudo have suffered. Unless they play ball with their new King and let him complete this triforce. And why not? He just wants to rule the world, and he can't possibly do a worse job than the last guy. That guy buried 90% of the Sheikah and then called himself a peacekeeper.

Ganondorf just wants to give the Gerudo a place to live where people won't die every night choking on sand. And be in charge. A man can want two things.

The downside, of course, is -- yeah, he's got broken god matter leaking into his body for seven years straight while he's hunting down this fucking flute that a little girl ran away with, and the guy who has it turns out to be in a godcoma the whole time, and now that he's up he's jumping back and forth and changing reality, which is really fucked up to live through when you're already outside your goddamn mind because there's a literal monster living under your skin doing its goddamn best to dominate what's left of your conscious mind. But despite that!! Despite all that!! Gerudo Valley is STILL the safest place you can be in all of Hyrule. Despite the monsters and the ghosts and the death pineapples, you can have Impa's protections and get murdered by chickens and the ghost of a prisoner of war in the well, OR, you can chill in Gerudo Valley and get paid to shoot arrows. So tl;dr: Ganondorf fucking loves his people, and yes, wanted to rule initially to give them a better lot in life. But he is not an affectionate man, and he is selfish and young and angry and desperate and can see Exactly, Precisely how to solve the problem. And that's hard to be cool about when you're a leader and your people are actively dying. So he's on his own, unless he wants to start another war, which we simply do not have the resources for. If you don't listen to the manga, which I don't, Ganondorf took over Hyrule without the Gerudo. He did it with himself and some good old fashioned necromancy and used Hyrule's soldiers against it, which I always liked to think meant he didn't want his people involved if he failed (which, I mean, in TP he was the only one executed,so he must've taken responsibility solo, because his people would've died protecting him, they worshipped him). I do enjoy that he lets you know though. Every single dungeon there's Gerudo blocks. He said 'don't fuck with me child I'll bury you like the dunes I came here from'

[nbkuhn]

The Siren's Lover Ch. 1

The day Matty met his husband started like any other. He took a picture of the sunrise and sent it to Ruby, even though he knew she’d never look at it. Instead of dwelling on that, he started his lap timer and took off running. Once he came back to the same place he started, he finally glanced at his phone. He’d gotten better at drawing this out. No notifications besides a smiley face from the app tracking his workouts. His personal best time.

Matty’s hand tightened on his phone; he wanted to throw it against the ground and grind it into dust beneath his foot.

"You know, I'm starting to get curious what you see each morning," said a voice from behind him. Matty jumped.

The speaker came into view—a male siren, clad only in black trunks and a white towel draped around his neck. He was soaked, droplets of water tracing patterns down teal skin, freckled with dark blue. A swimmer's lean muscle marked every inch, and his long, fluked tail wrapped around one leg, defining the curves of his strong thigh and calf.

Matty met his eyes—pure black, like a lake without a bottom—and his heart stuttered a beat in his chest. Until this moment, he believed such a feeling was only an expression. "Sorry, what?"

The siren flashed him a cool smile, barely friendly enough to be polite, and took the towel from around his neck to wipe off his arms. As he dried himself, the gills at his neck disappeared, along with the tail and the webbing between his fingers, leaving him almost an ordinary human in teal body paint. Except he wasn't. Matty always knew another beast when he saw one.

"I'm sorry—I shouldn't have startled you.” The siren’s voice was deep, low and resonant in his chest. “I've seen you run this way every day for a week. Every time you finish, you take out your phone and stare like it's breaking your heart. I don't believe it's your mile time, since you keep speeding up. I barely had time to get in the water before you came by this morning."

Chewing on his lower lip, Matty slipped his phone into the back pocket of his running shorts. "It's not my mile time.”

"Mm, I didn't really think so. Unless you were trying to slow down. Now there would be a story I'd like to hear." He laid a finger alongside his nose. "Not that you'd probably tell me, considering we're strangers. But sometimes I find anonymity appealing. We’ll likely never see each other again, so you can say anything you want, and I could do the same.”

Had his alarm had gone off this morning, or was he having a very strange dream?

Yet he wasn't walking away, and not because he was wiped out. The siren had a point. This wasn't Lugosi Falls, where everyone and their mother had known him since he was a chick fresh from the nest. He could be anyone he wanted. Maybe somebody who wasn't so bogged down in bullshit. Or somebody who took weird questions at face value instead of walking off. "Well, what would you tell me? You first."

The siren slid his finger down to tap the side of his cheek. "Excellent answer. Let me see." Matty found himself staring at his own reflection in those fathomless eyes. "Ah. How about my worst quality? If we remain strangers, I can be unburdened of my guilt, and if we don't, you'll already know the most terrible thing about me."

Matty had twined his own tail around his leg; he made himself relax. Why was a simple conversation leaving him so on edge? Sure, the siren was—intense, to put it lightly, but Matty was trying to learn to chill the fuck out around new people. Even hot ones. Though he wasn’t sure he had ever met a hot person who skipped so quickly to the weird shit. "Sure. And I'll tell you what's pissing me off."

"Come sit, then. There's a bench over here with the most glorious view of the sunrise." The siren led him down a path to the edge of the beach. Here, they had a perfect view of the ocean, and this early in the morning, no one else was around. The waves crashing against the beach, gleaming gold and red in the early morning sunshine, drowned every other sound.

The siren sat down on one side of the bench, and Matty took the other.

"See, look there." The siren pointed to the first true rays of dawn poking over the waves. More beauty than Matty had seen lately, but the light creeping into the sky was not what held his eyes. The faint lines of pink light shimmered over the siren’s skin, highlighting his dark freckles.

"Anyway." The siren put his backpack on his lap and laced his fingers over top of it. "I could tell you what others believe my worst quality is, but I would be cheating. Here's what I know about myself. I like the work I do better than the people I love."

Matty blinked, but the siren was still watching the sunrise, his expression unreadable. "That was... heavy.”

“I told you it was the worst thing about me.”

“Where do you work?"

"I'm the artist in residence at the local university.” Now the siren glanced at him, his regard a physical weight on Matty’s shoulders, making him want to cringe away. Or maybe stare back with equal intensity. “I've believe I’ve seen you around campus. Not a lot of beasts in a small town like this. Especially not a griffin running around in his human skin.”

Matty's tail twitched. He tucked it behind him where it wouldn't cause any trouble. Technically, he could disguise nearly all his unique parts. After moving to a city full of humans instead of beasts, he'd done that for a while, when he was still trying to know what was and wasn't safe, but it was worse than holding his breath, since he would never get to inhale again. And his eyes, the bright gold of a new wedding ring, always told on him anyway. "My dad would say I’m a human who puts on a griffin skin, but yeah, I'm a grad student. Physical therapy."

"Ah. Hence the running."

Matty nodded, still chewing over what the siren had said. He soaked in the cold salt air and the sound of the tide advancing and retreating, and the words slipped out: "Is liking your work so much really a bad thing?"

The siren blinked once, both regular eyelids and the nictitating membrane. As if Matty had said something interesting instead of blurting the first thing that came to mind. He cupped his chin in one hand. "Another new one for me, though I've never told anyone that particular detail. What makes you say so?"

Matty bit back a comment about the professor voice the siren had suddenly slipped into. He’d never told anyone this before; the answer was too personal.

Then again, sometimes it felt like he could scream at the top of his lungs and no one in his life would ever hear. In that case, why not talk to a stranger?

"Well... I don't do art for a living, but I play music in my off time. My dad used to get on my case about it, ask me why I spent so much time messing around with a guitar when I couldn’t make a living that way. The answer is I never wanted to. My music is for me. If somebody else likes it, fine, but I need that time for myself, or I’d go even crazier than I already am." His mouth twisted down. "Some people might think it's selfish, but... I don't think being selfish is a bad thing, not all the time. Not about protecting something important to you."

He cut himself off before more nonsense came out, but the siren turned sideways, resting his elbow on the bench, the better to study him.

No one ever looked at him with such fascination when he went and blurted out an essay. (Well. One person. But he wasn't thinking about her.) For a second, Matty saw himself the way this siren might see him—someone cool, mysterious, athletic, not a nervous bundle of feathers only running because flying would get him in trouble. Someone who sat on park benches and watched the sunrise over the ocean and had deep conversations with complete strangers.

The siren's lips curled in a more personable smile. He had dark blue freckles, six on each cheek.

Matty's heart stuttered in his chest again. He must have pushed himself too hard running this morning.

"Well. I'll have to think on your thesis. I don't know if I agree or if I'm simply looking for an excuse to dismiss my own faults." The siren propped his cheek on his hand. "Your turn." He spoke with so much emphasis, like he had considered each word for hours.

Matty found himself staring at the siren's mouth and quickly looked back at the sunrise. "My turn—my phone." He rubbed his jaw, the frown creeping back onto his face.

When had it even disappeared? Sometime during this talk, he'd calmed down, maybe because this was so fucking weird. Now his shoulders tensed up again, right at the place where his wings would sprout if he could wear them out.

Then again, showing off his wings would mean prancing around shirtless in front of this handsome stranger. Oof.

"It's my best friend." He resisted the urge to glance back at the siren. "Are you one of those people who say women and men can't be friends without sexual tension? Because I don't want to tell you what's going on and then get the same shit I've been hearing since I hit puberty."

The siren tilted his head. "My species is ninety-nine percent female. If I didn't think women and men could be friends, I'd either have very few friends or be attracted to a lot of people." He paused. "The last part is true anyway, but it has nothing to do with friendship."

Matty's stomach lurched, as if his wings had given out on him halfway through a dive. "Sorry. I knew that about sirens. Bad question."

"Bad questions don't exist. I strongly dislike it when anyone says otherwise in front of me. Now, you were saying?"

Usually, that phrase was a cliché, but the siren's tone was so firm even Matty couldn't argue. "Uh. Well. My best friend is a woman—a human. I don't know if that's relevant, but everyone around here assumes I've never met one before."

The siren's lips quirked with familiarity, both reassuring and deeply annoying. Matty could shrug off those little irritations; he didn’t like to think of the siren dealing with the same bullshit. "Or that you know every beast in existence?"

Matty nodded. "I don't know which I hate more. Anyway, we've been best friends since we were kids—our parents went to college together." He rubbed the small white tuft of fur on the end of his tail, but this time, he couldn't make himself stop. Even the echo of the waves didn’t help him calm down. "I moved out here for graduate school last semester. And ever since then, she's been—ignoring me."

"Do you text her every day?" From someone else, that would have been judgmental, the response Matty was expecting. But the siren’s tone was totally neutral.

Matty's hand tightened on his tail, hard enough to hurt. He unclenched, slowly, and rested his palm flat on his thigh. "Yes. She's—she's in a really bad relationship, and a lot of our other friends have... stopped talking to her. Because they don't like her girlfriend."

He never knew how to explain exactly how much life Ruby’s girlfriend Tansy had robbed from her without sounding like he was jealous. He was, but only because Tansy was hoarding Ruby for herself. "I don't want Ruby to think I'm going to give up on her too. But she never answers. She probably deletes them—her girlfriend hates me."

"That does sound difficult." Matty hated to hear that from his friends or his dad. The phrase only meant they hadn’t been listening, or that he hadn't managed to make himself clear.

The siren’s voice, though, was so heavy and sad Matty couldn’t help but trust his sympathy. "All the same, I think it's good of you to keep reaching out to her. Even when a decision is clearly the right path, you cannot force another person to choose it. You must simply make it known you will be waiting when they do."

Matty's heart stuttered a third time—now not because the siren was disarming or handsome or even because of his deep voice, raising goose bumps on Matty's skin, but because...

He swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat. "Thanks. I—I think I really needed somebody to say it's okay to keep giving a shit. Everybody else in my life is waiting for me to move on. But she never gave up on me, and I'm not giving up on her. A text is the least I can do."

The siren nodded, considering this. "I don't think it's ever wrong to care, or to show someone that caring," he said, after so long a pause Matty's knee joggled from nerves, from the intensity of his dark, reflective eyes, shining with the arc of the rising sun. Here he hadn’t thought anything could possibly make a sunrise more beautiful. "As long as it’s truly a free choice, I would rather lose myself trying to do good than live forever doing nothing. I think it can be powerful, to know love has teeth and place yourself willingly into its jaws all the same."

"Do you always talk like that?" Matty blurted.

The siren's hand came up to cover his mouth, eyes crinkled in a smile. He didn't appear embarrassed, exactly, but his tone turned less serious. "I'm sorry. It is very early in the morning, and I sleep little when I'm in the middle of a project. I'm probably speaking complete nonsense."

"No, I didn't mean—" Matty shook his head. "I like it. I was trying to ask—do you read random people for filth every day of your life?"

At this, the siren actually laughed, and Matty felt a strong, surprising surge of pride for breaking his grave demeanor. "No, absolutely not. I far prefer to listen. But there's something about you."

He propped his cheek on his hand again, dropping his voice to a low murmur like he was whispering in Matty's ear. (Matty thought of lush teal lips hovering near his cheek, soft breath ruffling his hair, and bit back a shiver.) "This is the part where I admit I've been watching you run for, oh, a week at least? You always take the path past my favorite area for a morning swim."

"I mean, I'm the one who runs in public, so..." He shrugged, the movement of his shoulders reminding him of his wings hiding beneath his skin. It felt like an inadequate answer, but he could hardly say, I don't mind the idea of you watching me do anything.

A small smile crossed the siren's face. Matty desperately wanted to be let in on the secret hiding behind those lips. "So forgiving. How kind of you. Nevertheless."

He straightened. Now the secret hid in his eyes instead of behind his lips, even more enticing. "I've been watching you for a week, and we have both shared something complicated and troubling. I believe we should be introduced, don't you?"

He held out his hand, each finger topped with short black nails carefully ground down from sharp points. "Land dwellers can't pronounce my name, but you can call me Finch."

Matty opened his mouth to give his nickname—but did he really want this handsome stranger to call him that? Someone who took him seriously, someone who asked him difficult questions and listened when he responded?

"Matthias." He took the offered hand. Finch's palms were cool, smooth and lineless. "Matthias Beckett."

"Well. I am glad to finally meet you properly, Matthias Beckett." Finch withdrew his hand. Matty had to flex his before he put it back on his thigh, the texture of Finch’s skin lingering. "I'm not certain this was what I was expecting, but you won't find me complaining."

"What were you expecting?"

"You to ignore me, not play along. I did ask a complete stranger a personal question in the strangest way possible. Though even when I try to make small talk, land dwellers find me off-putting. I may as well lean into it instead of away. I'm an artist. I'm not supposed to be easily understood."

"If it works for you, it works." Matty glanced at his watch and swore. "Shit, I've got to get back to my place so I can change." He jerked to his feet, then hesitated. "Uh—"

But Finch only stretched his arms out on the back of the bench, his lips curved in another enigmatic smile. "Well. I'll be here tomorrow."

"Same." For once, Matty didn't regret spitting out the first thing on his mind. "See you around, I guess." He jogged off before he could blurt out something stupider. As he ran, Finch started whistling a tune Matty didn’t recognize.

Usually, meeting new people left him feeling flat-footed. He wasn't cool and collected like Ruby or commanding and sure of himself like his father. But with Finch’s tune echoing in his ears, he didn't feel bad at all. He felt like someone else, but in a good way.

Matthias, not Matty.

The song Finch had been humming followed Matty his whole walk home, echoing in his head like the crash of the waves against the beach. Even that small snippet intoxicated him as much as Finch’s dark, gleaming eyes. He needed to get it down on paper.

Trying desperately not to forget the notes, Matty didn't think anything of walking into his apartment and barged in on his roommates having breakfast. He had three: all white, all brunet, all human, and, most importantly, all named Josh. They weren't related, but they were best friends.

Medium Josh looked up from his eggs. "Oh, hey, Matt."

Matty froze for a couple reasons. Hearing Matt after Matthias was disconcerting, especially since nobody ever called him Matt at home. It was always Matty with a Y, the same way it was always Matty and Ruby.

For another, part of him wasn't here in the room—he was flipping through his sheet music, trying to think of anything even vaguely like Finch's song.

And also he'd forgotten his roommates would still be home. After his run, he usually headed straight to campus.

If Medium Josh noticed his awkwardness, he was nice enough not to show it. He was chill, one of the reasons Matty moved in with a strange group of humans he'd never met. (His dad was less okay with this idea, but his dad didn't get to drive his life anymore.) "You want some eggs? I can make more."

Matty's tail twitched as he consulted his careful tally of how many times he said no to social events. He always accepted study groups so he could always turn down nights at the bar or clubs. Where did breakfast fall on that scale? He wasn’t looking for friends, but he also couldn’t offend people he would be seeing in class for the next few years.

But if he said yes, he would forget the song. The idea of letting anything from his morning with Finch slip through his fingers decided him. "No, that's okay. Thanks, though."

"You sure? I know these two chuckleheads finished everything off, but we've still got two hours before class. I can make you more." He gestured at the other Joshes, who had both politely been pretending their eggs were the most interesting things in the world. Small and Tall Josh both seemed a little more unsure about Matty, both as a stranger and a beast, so he hadn't tried to push it with them.

"Nah, I had trouble sleeping last night, so I want to crash while I can." He ducked in his room before Medium Josh could keep going. His roommate would gladly talk until the four lords of fairy returned from wherever they’d gone.

Once his bedroom door was safely closed behind him, Matty rushed to plug in his headphones and his guitar, sketching out the basic notes on paper, then trying them on the strings.

Matty brought his guitars with him out of habit more than anything; he hadn't touched them since high school, not with any real intent. The feeling of his fingers moving across the frets was too tied to other memories: Ruby's hand on top of his, correcting his form. Her singing voice, low and rich like honey made thick by the cold. Her laughter, raspy and raucous as the caw of a crow.

He wanted to hate those memories. They should have upset him. But instead of frustrating him the way they would have even this morning, he heard Finch's voice instead, his gentle admonition to care. And then he remembered the song again, and he was back to the loop, the burning need for his guitar.

He worked until Medium Josh banged on his door, reminding him they all had class to walk to. When he picked up his phone, he realized he hadn’t checked it in hours.

Chapter two?

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

The Genuine Repose

A/N: just a tale of two of the protags of tdrc with hurt/comfort involved.^^

Word Count: 755

TW: some romantic undertones yet the dynamic is platonic

***

Trickles of rain lands on a window, resounding it's regular tempo across a dorm room.

Her stare fixes on the ceiling as numbness seeps onto her. She sits still on her bed, moving it at her surroundings.

After rehearsing and stitching clothes, she's been lacking energy. It's also her misfortune that her mind latches onto low spirits.

Someone knocks the door and she frowns. With a slow pace, she trudges towards it and opens it. She raises her brows.

"What are you doing here?" Cassie asks, barely hiding her tired voice.

"Just checking up on you," Krispin explains, examining her briefly. "Can I. . . can I get in?"

Nodding, she moves aside and paves way for him to enter. She closes the door and plops back to her bed, bowing her head. She scrubs a hand down her face.

She'd rather not talk about what's bothering her. She can't avoid it completely yet she doesn't wish to speak. She just. . . well, she isn't sure of what she needs, actually. Other than silence and rest.

If her friend isn't here to talk then it's okay. It still perplexes her on how he visits without calling.

Flicking a glance at him, she notices something around his elbow.

"Is. . . is that a blanket?" She peers at it.

"Yeah, I. . . you can borrow it," he says, stepping towards her. "Is. . . can I put it around you?"

"Okay." She nods firmly. "I'd like that."

He gulps slightly, laying the blanket over her shoulders. It falls on her back and she slightly tenses at it's coziness. Patterns of flowers embroider a portion of it in pale shades of pink and green. It resembles quaint artworks of gardens and forest.

She watches her friend, who occupies a chair while keeping his backpack beside him. He gets his sketchbook from it along with his sketch supplies. He arranges them on her desk, flipping to a page, where his recent project is.

With a pencil, he trails it over it. Probably outlining or putting definition onto the subject featured in this particular drawing.

It occurs to her belatedly that they're both too preoccupied to spend time together. She's sick of how much gets in the way between them. How much they'd cancel plans because of obligations for their specific courses.

If only she doesn't have to deal with them, she'd find more chances to be around her friends. Both Nijiko and Tegan are also busy with their projects, which are a part of their grades.

Sure, it's college and maybe she's complaining. It still doesn't get rid of how she just. . . wants to get a break from it. An impractical notion, however, it's what she'd like. Just for a moment.

More than anything, she wishes that misery would back off.

When Krispin rests his gaze at her, his eyes soften further. It mesmerizes her and intense relief sweeps through her. Even at a long length far from her, she drifts into his ease.

Somehow, her friend's skilled at surprising her. He'd be at his dorm to sketch or paint in solitude. However, he chose to go to her dorm to be her companion instead.

The way he looks after her and tries comforting her. . . is just. . . it alleviates her from her gloomy daze. She still doesn't understand why he does. And yet he doesn't have any reluctance for it.

Krispin lays his pencil across a page in his sketchbook.

"How do you feel?" he asks quietly.

"Better," she answers, her breathing falling into a relaxed rate.

"I'm sorry that. . . that you're hurt," he murmurs, his face crumpling. He sniffs. "I wish. . . I wish you didn't have to be."

She shrugs. "What else can I do? It's. . . I'll have to figure out how to handle it, somehow."

"If you do, I'll try being there with you."

"Yeah. Thank you, Krisi."

He adjusts his glasses and blinks rapidly.

"For. . . for what?"

"For being with me."

"Uh, well. . . You're welcome. I'd. . . I'd do anything to help you, Cassie."

"I know. However, it does help that you tell me you would. I guess it's terrible on my part."

"There isn't any shame in wishing for reminders."

Cassie gives a small smile. A warmth blossoms within her chest.

"You truly are. . . I'm thankful that you're my best friend too."

Krispin smiles back and her heart loosens from a tight constriction.

Both of them linger in each other's presence and he continues sketching. She wraps his blanket around her.

With rain fading from afar, she reaches for a pillow and sighs.

***

[kimnjss]

how sticky | kth

⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader // taehyung focus. ⇢ genre: smut. // pwp. ⇢ word count: 7.6K ⇢ theme: established relationships.  ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, poly relationship, handjobs, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), public sex, outdoor sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up lovelies), all the boys wanna kiss yn, cum inside/stuffing, slight over stimulation if you squint. ⇢ A/N: literally this idea came to me while watching the first episode and seeing tae washes the dishes sooo, here you goo!! lmao x also if it seems messy or all over the place, that’s bc i wrote this while streaming dynamite and obvi got distracted . 

Namjoon is the first to spot you, just as you're tugging your suitcase from the trunk of your car. The large grin that takes over his features as he makes his way over to you, brown hair flopping in the wind with each step he takes. A silver pot held in his hands that he must've forgotten the purpose of upon setting sights on you.

“You're here.” He says with a large smile, dimples showing while he leaning down to press a soft kiss to your waiting lips. “Did you eat?”

Just with one look around the backyard, you can tell that they just finished eating. Had hoped to arrive a bit earlier so you'd be able to eat with them. “Not yet,” He looked good, as usual, but oddly more attractive in this outdoor environment.

The blue two-piece outfit, which you had quickly realized was a favorite of his, hung loosely around his body. The muscles in his arms flexed as he kept his grip on the pot in his hand. Eyes turn to half-moons with the way he was smiling at you.

It had been a few weeks since you saw them last. What with their jam packed schedule and you keeping up with the things going on in your own life, there wasn't really time to be together the way you wanted. A constant long-distance relationship with the seven of them, even if they were only a few miles away.

Which was the biggest reason you were jumping on the chance to spend this week with them. Secluded with nothing to do but be together. It had been Jin who had suggested it, finding out that you had the same week free. What better way to spend it then with your boyfriends? Agreement coming from his younger members instantly and to your surprise, the staff was quick to agree as well. 

Most times riddled a distraction, but it seemed that you being here sort of fit the relaxation, recharging theme of this entire trip. Zero complaints from you, of course, you were packing your bags the moment you got the green light.

“I'll make you a plate, wait.”

All of a sudden remembering he had been in the middle of doing something before seeing you. Quick steps are taken into the house with the pot in hand and you're right behind him, marveling at the huge land they had rented out for this. All of the greens of the mountains and grass was a pretty contrast to the bright blue sky, the sparkling lake that you couldn't wait to try out.

And there was so much stuff! Placed all over the place from where you can see, each item matching a different member's personality so well that you could guess who asked for what. 

Joon is coming back, hands-free, but only to grab your suitcase, wheeling it into the house. He's gone talking to whoever is in the kitchen before he's returning, arm easily wrapping around your waist as he leads you down the hill.

“You came here looking refreshed,” He notes, finally saying out loud what he had been thinking since you were pulling the suitcase from the car.

Out of all of them, Namjoon seemed to pay a lot of attention to the way you looked. And no, not just the clothes you wore and how they fit – but like deeper. He paid a lot of attention to your facial expressions more than anything, reading your demeanor as if it was his latest page-turner.

A blessing and a curse, because although he knew when something was bothering you and tried his best to fix it without you saying a word. It was also really, extremely hard to hide things for him. Not that you tried to often.

“It was a nice drive and I'm excited to spend time with you guys,” The smile that takes over your features is causing a flutter in his heart, his large hand landing on your arm that you've wrapped around his torso – walking the rest of the way like that.

Jimin is whipping around at the sound of footsteps approaching, and you're eyes are widening at the sight of him. Unwrapping yourself from Joon's body, you're rushing the rest of your steps hands outstretched to touch the edge of the gat hanging from his neck.

“You actually wore it?” Speaking through a slight giggle and he's grinning, hands finding home on your torso as he playfully rolls his eyes. “Of course I wore it, so you better deliver,”

The result of a drunk game of Truth or Dare between the two of you. He spent the entire night choosing truth, but as soon as he was picking dare you were telling him to wear his new hanbok for the first day of shooting. He was agreeing with a roll of his eyes, boasting about how easy it was.

Then on your turn, he was hitting you with that sly grin of his. 'If I wear my hanbok for shooting, then you need to let me...' Words trailing off as he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows in your direction. You were quick to put two and two together of what he wanted. And you were agreeing because of course, you wanted it too.

With a distracted nod, your eyes are shifting to the moving figure behind him. “Of course, baby. Whatever you want.” Breaking from his grasp just as Namjoon is extending the full bowl in your direction.

You thank him with a wide smile, which he acknowledges with a short nod – going back to cleaning up while you take a seat at the table. Sat eating the food that you can tell was made by Jungkook as you watch your two men move around the yard until Joon is disappearing into the house again. Someone else exiting at the same time.

“I thought I heard your voice!” There's a smile in his voice that you can detect without having to listen very hard. And you're proven right as you lift your head, being met with Hoseok's bright smile. “When'd you get here?” He wonders once he's closer, taking the empty spot beside you.

“Not too long ago,” You speak through the mouthful of food in your mouth, the words you're speaking coming out a murmured mess. 

The smile on Hoseok's face only grows, his hand lifting to push his hair back on his forehead. “I missed you.” A random confession that has heat rising in your cheeks. He always did this. Knew what a few simple words did to your mind and took pleasure in making you flustered whenever possible.

This time was no different. Just three words and you were forced to put extra focus on your noodles. He missed you. Obviously, you missed him – that's a given. But the fact that he, Jung Hoseok actually missed you and was just telling you about it casually. With that smile on his face. Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I missed you too.” A delayed reply, but he's not faltering. Doesn't even think twice about what you could have been thinking about in the time it took you to answer. Instead, he's reaching his arm to wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body into his so he's able to press a dozen chaste kisses to the top of your head.

And then just like that, he's releasing you. Not even giving you a moment to react before he's standing from his spot beside you and moving to help Jimin clean up the outside area.

After the third time, you're asked to scoot over, you're standing feeling as though you're in the way of the cleaning. So, you go to find the others that you haven't seen yet. Thanks to a FaceTime call from Jungkook while they were going through the tour, you had a pretty good understanding of the layout of this place.

Heading over the hill to the Upper House, bowl in hand. And you're grinning when you spot Jin standing out front, staring at the line of delivered groceries in front of him. “Jinnie!” You're calling with a wave of your hand, and he's turning around.

“Yn!” He calls, just as loud – waving you over with one frantic hand.

Easily speeding up your footsteps, it's not long before you're standing in front of him. Arms wrapped around his torso in a tight hug. “What are you doing?” He's out of your hold now, bending to lift the bags off the ground.

“Putting groceries away.”

Following behind him, you shovel mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth while sinking down at the island. For a little while, you're able to enjoy your meal and engage in broken chatter was Jin moves in and out of the house.

He's filling you in on all the plans he has for this trip and the things he's excited about and you listen with a smile on your face. Loving the way he looks when he's completely in his element, eyes sparkling as he talks about being able to fish with Yoongi.

Speaking of Yoongi. Sauntering out from God knows where, white tee hanging loose – revealing a bit of his chest, baggy black jeans that you've now decided is the only thing you ever want to see him in. His hair is unkempt, laying messily over his forehead and only slightly covering his eyes.

There's a smirk on his face when he notices the blatant way you're gawking at him, sinking into the seat beside you – his cold hand not hesitating to reach for your thigh. “You're here?” He speaks in the bored uninterested drawl that you've become used to. Use to read too much into it before you were realizing that just the way he talked.

Now it had the ability to have heat rushing through your veins, especially if he was using that voice when telling you just exactly he wanted to do to you. Never failed to have you basically salivating, putty for him.

“I just came...” The patterns he draws on your inner thigh stills as he lifts his eyes to look at you, a chuckle falling from his lips. “Did you?” He asks teasingly and you're too dazed to pick up on the double meaning of your words.

His hand inches further up your thigh until the tips of his fingers are just inches from reaching the hem of your mesh shorts. Without a thought, your legs are opening for him – giving him as much room as he needs to do whatever he wants.

Yoongi's grinning at your compliance, his lips are just inches for yours. He takes a moment to study your features. Lips shiny with grease, cheeks slightly flushed, eyes staring unfocused. A slow grin lifts the corners of his lips moments before he's leaning in closer.

Yoongi kisses you once as if he's testing the waters before diving in. Grip tightening on your thigh, pulling your body closer to his while he slowly moves his mouth over yours. Soft tongue slowly tracing over your lower lip and you're instantly opening up for him.

The groan that leaves his lips from the feeling of your wet muscles meeting as arousal rushing through your veins and pooling between your legs, fingers reaching to grasp the rough material of his pants for some type of grounding.

And he grins, teeth gently tugging at your lower lip as his hand slides up your thigh toward your waist. So sure he's fingers are about to sneak underneath your shirt, so you giddily wait for the contact. 

But it never comes. "Would you let the girl breathe, she just got here." Is what you hear.

Jimin, into the Upper House to change into something comfortable. And all too ready to scold his Hyung for trying something with you when it hasn't even been an hour. With a roll of those dark eyes of his, Yoongi is leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips – much different from what he had initially planned.

Moment ruined, he's standing from his spot beside you. “I'm gonna go help Jin,” He announces to no one in particular, cheeks darkened with pink from having been caught. Yoongi talked a big game, but he was the most private out of the boys. Wasn't one for an unwarranted audience and preferred to have you to himself rather than sharing you.

“Tae's washing dishes if you're done with that.” He's jutting his chin out to point at your empty bowl on the island. As he speaks, he undoes the tie of his top letting it sag at his shoulders before he's shrugging it off. And you watch his fingers carefully, allowing your mind to wander to just how skilled he was with those fingers.

Playing the same notes for the past eight years on the piano wasn't the only thing he was good at. It's a moment before you register his words enough to stand to your feet, plucking your plate up and exiting the Upper House to find Taehyung.

Back to you as he scrubs the inside of the bowl, you watch as his hips sway to whatever song he's got going in his head. No idea that you're entering the kitchen or that you've arrived – just in his own world.

Taehyung looks handsome even from the back. 

His broad shoulders were still visible underneath the brown top that was just so him. He wore a pair of olive green shorts, giving you a perfect view of his strong legs and the way they flexed with the movement of his feet. Thoroughly riled up from Yoongi's interrupted touches from before, you're struck with a very mischievous thought.

Light steps are taken in Taehyung's direction, quickly setting your bowl in the sink before reaching your arms to wrap around his waist. Palms sneaking underneath the fabric of his shirt so you're able to touch his soft belly. You feel him still against you, taking a moment to put together that it's you back hugging him like this.

He's turning just enough so he can look down at you, a large smile spread across his lips as his eyes take in your face that looks brighter for some reason. “How long have you been there?” Tae tries to hug you back but gives up because of the awkward position.

“Not long,” You answer, nose pressed in the dip of his back after he's turned. Your lips place soft kisses against his covered back, the tips of his fingers brushing over the skin of his stomach. “I missed you.”

And you had. There was just something about Taehyung that drove you crazy with little to no effort. Had to be his aura. The way he carried himself. The unreadable expression that always decorated his features. How he was able to smile with his entire face, pulling large smiles on the lips of the people around him.

All of that and the simple fact of how well the boy could fuck. Of course, all of the guys knew how you make you feel good. All in their own ways, different and unique and still good. But Taehyung. Fuck, Kim Taehyung. A living Sex God, with a thick long cock that he knew how to use. Long fingers that could bring you to climax over and over again with very little time in between. And that mouth. God, that mouth. 

Porn stars would blush at the dirty things that came out of that boy's mouth.

Taehyung's eyebrow is lifting at the mindless way your fingers are dipping lower down his body, flinching just slightly when the tips of your fingers are grazing his quickly hardening cock. “That type of missed me, huh?” He's grinning, you can tell without having to see his face.

Head nodding slightly, you continue placing gentle kisses against his back – fingers drawing teasing lines over his cock through the fabric of his shorts. “Don't be a tease,” He hisses.

His wet, glove covered hand is wrapping around your wrist – forcing more of his cock underneath your palm. A soft moan falls from your lips at the feeling of it twitching with the new friction. Tae's hips rock slowly with the movement of your hand, half of his attention still on the dishes he washes.

And you pout. Want to turn his mind to mush like he's done to you many times before. Until the only thing he can think about is you and how you're making him feel. Fuck the dishes.

Even on your tiptoes, you're only able to reach the nape of his neck. But it's the first bit of bare skin you're able to press your lips against so you settle for it. Leaving open mouth kisses on it while your fingers slowly make their way underneath the waistband of his shorts.

Pleased to find he had decided to forego underwear, you're instantly met with the warmth of his shaft. A low cruse falling from his lips when your cool palm is wrapping around him. And you hold it there. Waiting to hear the scoff that falls from his lips as he starts to rock his hips again – his cock sliding through your grip easily.

The sound of his breathy groans fills the kitchen, egging you on. You can feel him growing harder in your hand and the slow drag of his hips is quickly driving you crazy until you're giving in to the tiny game you were playing and moving your hand.

“Oh, fuck.” Tae hisses, the dish he had been holding crashing into the sink as his fists reach to grip the edge of the sink. Voice gruff and it's usual deep, it has a wash of arousal flooding your body and fueling your movements. Free hand lifting to grasp his hipbone, holding him steady as you bring your hand up toward his tip.

A simple swipe of your thumb over his bulbous has a shiver running down his spine and a grin pulling on your lips. Strokes on his shaft speeding up as the sound of his breathy groans tickled your ears. Hips stuttering underneath your grasp in an attempt to take more than what you were willing to give him.

Always so greedy.

“Does it feel good?” Voice hushed where he can just barely hear.

Taehyung is quick to nod his head, though. “Your hand feels so good on me, Yn. Faster,” He whines, something that you're not quite used to hearing from him. Especially over a simple handjob.

He must've missed you a lot more than he was willing to admit.

And because your soul purpose is to give Taehyung any and everything he asks for, you're rubbing down on him quicker, squeezing him a bit harder. His cock twitches and jumps in your hold and you're fastened by the effect you have on him that your grip on his hip is loosening – allowing him to freely roll his hips upward.

A strong arm is reaching back while his body twists, large glove covered hand tangled in your hair to hold your head steady. For the first time, you're getting a good look at his face. Eyes blown and unfocused, his cheeks flushed and lips bitten. He looks so sexy staring at you as if it's taking all his restraint not to devour you.

The way he leans in, crashing his lips into yours for a sloppy hungry kiss only validates your thoughts. Grip tightening in your hair to hold your head still while his tongue tickles the roof of your mouth.

You try, desperately, to keep your focus on the movement of your hand. Letting him lick into your mouth and kissing him just as much as you can without completely losing your mind. Taehyung, like his six other teammates, worked really well with his mouth. In all ways.

He's nibbling on your lower lip, harsh breaths exiting his nostrils as your thumb runs over the underside of his cock. So close and you can tell from the now frantic roll of his hips. And you're more than ready to bring him there, loved watching him fall apart for you, because of you.

More than ready to have him explode in your palm so you can like it up when the sharp knock on the glass behind you is stilling your movements. Head turning to peak behind you, but Taehyung does stop his head tilting so he's able to suck wet hickeys into your warm skin.

Hoseok stands on the other side of the door, looking extremely impatient. You move to pull your hand from his pants, but Taehyung is quick to grasp your wrist. “Yn, I swear to God.” He speaks through gritted teeth and you're flashing a bright smile up at him.

“It's Hobi,” There's another knock on the glass, “He can't just stand out there,” Laughing, you manage to wiggle yourself out of Taehyung's grasp. He watches you with squinted eyes as you pull the door open for his Hyung.

Cued in on what had been keeping you, a teasing smirk plays on his lips. “What? You're just in here giving Taehyungie all the attention?” Both hands knit into your hair from underneath, slowly closing the space between you two.

“He's working hard in here,” You defend with a slight pout. Upon realizing he wasn't going to be getting off any time soon, Tae turns his attention back to the dishes. Scrubbing the gunk off with much for strength than needed, quiet grumbles leaving his lips.

“I worked hard too, cleaned up outside all by myself. What do I get?” Lips a mere inches from yours, all you'd have to do was lift up onto your tiptoes to feel their softness. “I saw Jiminie helping you.”

Hoseok is rolling his eyes at the slight detail. You're teasing him, he can tell from the way you're gripping his shirt in your fists. Like you're desperate to feel him but at the same time seeing how much you can hold back.

What you failed to realize was, he was much better at teasing than you. Without a second thought, he's leaning down to press his lips against yours. Kiss much different from Taehyung's. More controlled. More intense. Strong hands reach for your thighs, easily lifting your body off of the floor and setting you to sit on the countertop.

He's taking up space between your legs, large hands set on your thighs while he sucks your lower lip into his mouth. You can feel the smirk that plays on his lips from the sound of your moan. 

Hoseok responds by reaching back to give your ass a firm squeeze, pulling your body toward his. He's hard. You can feel it through the fabric of his neon shorts, but the moment you're angling your hips to feel more of him – he's pulling back. 

“Jimin should finish up, hm?” Recalling your earlier comment with a teasing glint in his eye. Planting a soft kiss to your lips, he backs away attention now on Namjoon who had entered with a bag of groceries. As if nothing had happened.

Body buzzing and senses fogged, you're left to wonder just how many times you'd be denied the release you craved.

The two men chatted amongst each other mindlessly, surveying the contents of the fully stalked fridge in front of them. Joon is pulling a bottle of coffee from the bunch, handing it over to you with a soft smile before twisting the cap on his own. You watch as he wraps his plump lips around the edge, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the liquid down.

Plopping down on the soft red cushion, you watch as Joon moves to offer Tae a sip of his drink. Which he's denying with a pout of his lips. From where you're sitting, you can see that his bulge has gone down a bit – but the foggy need for sexual release stays. You know the feeling. Had half the mind to get on your knees for him right then and there, not like either of them would complain.

They did share you, at times. And those were the times that you secretly hoped for each time you were being interrupted with one of them. But, all of them were so different from their interests and really liked the idea of being alone with you – it didn't happen as often as you'd like.

You could simply suggest it and no doubt they'd agree to the idea. Ready to do whatever you asked to fill your desire. But you liked the surprise of not knowing just when you'd be taking two cocks, or three, or maybe even four. All seven if the weather was right. The suspense had a great effect on you.

Jimin is entering the main house just as halfway through drinking your chilled coffee. Fully changed out of his hanbok, standing in a pair of loose-fitting black shorts and a white SAINT LAURENT tee. Dark hair floppy messily at the top of his head, evident that he's been running his fingers through it.

He looked good enough to eat and if he kept looking at you with those bedroom eyes, you were about to do just that. Beeline made in your direction, settling in the spot beside you. An innocent hand lands on your thigh and your brain short circuits, registering it as anything but.

Without a word, he's reaching for your bottle, taking a long sip from it before licking the drip from his lips. “Where's Kookie?” You ask, forcing your thoughts not to wander too much. And realizing you had yet to see that bunny smile of his, hear the cute way he say's 'Noona' as he wobbles in your direction.

The same age as Namjoon which made you older than Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook – yet Jungkook was the only one out of the three that actually referred to you as Noona. No matter how many times you'd tell him to speak comfortably with you, he'd refuse with blushed and a shake of his head.

The others believed he got off on it, the subtle reminder that you were older than him but he was still able to turn you to make you fall apart with the simple flex of his thigh. “You haven't seen him?” Hoseok speaks with his head inches deep in the fridge and you shake your head despite the fact he cannot see you.

“He’ll come running the moment he hears you're here,” Deciding that your drink is his now, Jimin stands from his spot beside you heading further into the house. Steps cut off by Jungkook turning the corner, as if on cue.

“What!?” A large grin on his lips as his sparkling eyes land on you. Soft hair bouncing as he skips over to you, leaning over the counter so you're face to face. Tattooed hand reaching forward to enclose the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your foreheads are touching. “You didn't tell me you were here, Noona.” Eyebrow arched and head tilted to the side.

You can barely see his face with how close you are to it, but there's no doubt that he looks attractive as hell right now in his attempt to be intimidating. Lower lip poking out in a slight plea, “I'm sorry, baby. I was asking about you, though.”

Jungkook only half listens to your words. Some space put between you and he takes advantage of that by allowing his eyes to take in your appearance greedily. Aware of the warmer temperature, you had decided a simple v-neck crop top would suffice. From this angle, he could see straight down your top. And he was doing very little to hide the fact that he was looking, respectfully.

“I'm sure you can think of some ways to make it up to me. Right, Noona?” Hand slipping from the back of your neck, the tips of his fingers brushing over the collar of your shirt. Lips suddenly dry, your tongue is jutting out to wet them. Thighs squeeze together instinctively at the promise his words held.

A contrast to his demeanor, Jungkook is placing a sweet kiss on your lips. One that lingers for a second shorter than you want, but the small smile on his lips upon pulling away is enough to make your heart melt.

All at once, he's releasing you and moving on to follow Jimin out of the kitchen. Taehyung is finishing up he dishes at the same moment, shaking his hands of the water droplets before wiping the excess onto his shorts.

Alone in the room with him again and you feel the atmosphere shift as soon as his eyes settle on you. Finally able to get a good look at you and taking in just how short your shorts are and how thin the material of your top is. But Taehyung is a gentleman when he wants to be. 

His hand rests on your back, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bare skin your shirt leaves exposed. “Want to go for a walk?” Teeth biting into his plump lower lip. Instantly, you're sliding from your seat head nodding at his words.

Taehyung's arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body into his chest and you just faintly see the grin on his face before you're being enveloped in his sweet scent. Guided steps are taken into the game room where Namjoon sits, a laugh leaving his lips at the weird way the two of you are walking.

“What are you making?”

“A boat,” Joon says with a wide smile, lifting the plastic boat to show you. Cutie. Impatient, Taehyung is pushing his hips forward into yours. Even through the layers and with the small fact that he's not exactly hard at the moment – you can still feel his bulge against your ass cheek.

But he doesn't stop there, slowly dragging his hips up so you can feel his entire length. A strangled gasp is leaving your lips that has Taehyung smirking, Namjoon too focused on whether or not he just broke his model, doesn't notice.

Arms tightening around your waist, Taehyung takes a step forward – urging you to do the same.

When Tae said he wanted to take you on a walk, he wasn't speaking in sexual innuendos. You had actually gone for a walk around the land. Hand in hand making comfortable chatter as you soaked in the nice weather.

Somehow, you managed to convince yourself that he hadn't been itching to get you alone to fuck you – but really just wanted to spend some time alone with you. It's sweet when you think about it. The gentle way he's talking to you about the nervousness that surrounds working on his new mixtape. His soft thumb brushing over your knuckles as you assure him that everything will turn out alright.

It's not until you're reaching the picnic table just a few feet from the water, is he wrapping his arm around your hips. Lifting you from the ground as if you weighed nothing and setting you down on the table.

Blunt nails lightly dragging over the back of your knees as he gently spreads your legs so he's able to stand in the middle of them. He's easily hooking your legs around his waist, ankles instantly locking to pull him closer to you. “You know what I want to do right now?” 

“What?” You humor him, even though you could probably guess. Arms lifting to wrap around his neck, head tilting to the side as a slight smirk plays on your lips. His mouth hovers over your ear, wet brushing over the shell of it as he speaks.

“Wanna taste that sweet little cunt. Bet you're already soaked from all the attention you've been getting.” To prove his point, Tae's fingers trail up between your thighs. Your body shudders as he drags a single digit over your slit through the fabric.

He wasn't wrong, had started to feel the heat pool between your legs when Yoongi first kissed you. Mind driving you insane with being able to be with them for this entire week. All of them. It was safe to say it had gotten to you in a very obvious way.

Not one to tease, Taehyung is using his long fingers to push both your shorts and panties to the side so his fingers can press against your bare skin. A surprised gasp leaving your lips with the nudge on your clit, hips bowing toward him. He grins.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?” He's a little breathless, but his fingers never falter. A single digit slipping past your folds and pushing through your walls. “Shit.” He chuckles at the enthusiastic way you nod your hand, tongue rolling over his lips before biting down. “Yeah? Gonna cum all sloppy on my tongue, baby? Let me hear you.”

At the end of his words, his thumb is pressing into your clit, rolling it around lazily as his finger moves slowly inside of you. “Y-yes-” Words breaking on a loud whine, he slows his fingers – waiting. “Wanna cum on your tongue, Tae... p-please.” Hips lifting to rock into his hand but he's pulling back, leaving you feeling empty.

It doesn't last long because he's quick with lifting your leg. Fingers wet with your arousal and wrapped around your thigh, bringing it up to his shoulder. Tae lowers himself to his knees in front of you, at the same time pushing the useless material aside before diving in.

Taehyung watches you through his long eyelashes while dragging his tongue along your folds. Always loved the way you looked when he was between your legs. The way you tried to keep your eyes open to watch him, biting your lip in an attempt to keep quiet, fingers tangling in his hair – holding him close. Hot.

Tongue dragging up to flick against your clit, Taehyung reaches for your other ankle. Lifting your leg over his shoulder so he's completely enclosed by your legs. Plush lips wrap around your bundle of nerves, sucking gently while he's pushing two fingers past your walls. 

“Oh! Tae, fuck...” Panting at this point, grip in his hair used to pull him tighter against you. His free hand reaching around to sneak underneath the hem of your shorts, palming your ass while pulling you closer. Fingers angled to brush against the sweet spot inside of you, loving the way you squirm underneath him.

Just faintly, you can see the outline of his hard cock through his shorts. Straining against the fabric begging for some attention. Having you spread out for him, hearing those pretty moans fall from your lips is enough to drive anyone mad. And it doesn't help that Tae's been waiting for this for weeks.

Sharp teeth nip at your clit just as he's pushing another finger inside of you. “Taehyung!” You're crying out, in half pleasure – but also a warning. If he continued like this you'd be cumming before even getting to feel him inside of you.

“Close, baby?” His words are delivered into your throbbing cunt, sending vibrations through your body that has your back arching. Fingers tightening in his hair as you grind your hips desperately into him.

So close you can practically taste it, no longer able to worry about not being able to feel him. Just chasing your release. A breathy chant of 'keep going' falling from your lips as you hold his head in place.

Heat spreads throughout your body, a dull ache starting in your core and spreading throughout your body. Walls clenched so tight around his fingers that it's almost hard for him to pull back, so he doesn't, instead pushes deeper – pressing all three fingers against your sweet spot. In that exact moment, his lips are wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly and you feel the band snap.

Body tightening and legs shaking as incoherent curses fall from your lips. Taehyung watches your pretty eyes roll back, head tipping too. And once he's sure you're at the peak of your climax, he's pulling his fingers from inside of you and standing to his feet. Quick with fishing his cock from inside his shorts, you just barely notice the absence before you're being filled again.

A drawn-out whine falls from your lips at the new stretch, a thick groan from his from the tight squeeze. The wetness from your release makes it easy for him to move, though and he's thankful – too eager to wait longer than a few seconds to have you.

Your fingers struggle to find something to grasp as he ruts against you in an almost brutal pace. Each snap of his hips pushing your body further up on the table, only for him to drag you back down toward him. Loud cries and incoherent sentences fall from your lips that you're sure anyone in a 50-mile radius could put together what the two of you are doing.

Taehyung loves it, though. It's like fuel to his ever-growing ego. Chants of his name falling from your pretty lips, nails clutching at the fabric of his shirt as you beg for him. Just the knowledge he's able to make someone like you, like this. Yeah, he loves it.

“Fuck. This greedy little cunt,” He nearly grunts, eyes flashing up to take in your fucked out expression. His thumb is easily finding your clit through the wet mess between your legs, rubbing it slowly. “You wanna cum again? All over my cock this time?”

A frantic bob of your head and a whiny 'please' is prompting him to reach for your hips. Easily, he's lifting your body from the table, securing your legs around his waist. His hips rut against yours with much more fervor in this standing position. And you attempt to meet his thrusts but you're so delirious that all you can manage is a lazy bounce.

Arms wrapped around his neck and face buried in the crook of his neck, your walls squeeze around him as you feel the pressure build in your stomach again. Sloppy, wet kisses sucked into his skin. Teeth scraping against the tanned flesh before you're crying out your orgasm, body shaking in his arms.

You're positive if it weren't for the rough grip he has on your ass, you'd be sprawled out on the floor from the power of it. Taehyung fucks you through the entire thing, not slowing down until he feels his own release approaching, just second after yours. Thighs tightening and thrust becoming sloppy while he pulls your body down tighter against his.

The feeling of his thick ropes of cum coating your insides has your senses waking up, that paired with the slow drag of his cock inside of you has your legs stiffening again. Hips rocking slowly against his as another tiny orgasm washes over you. So small Taehyung wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been paying attention – but of course, he was.

“Did you just cum again?” He says with a laugh, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Lips sucked into your mouth to hide the sheepish grin that fought to take over your features. “It felt good... you cumming, inside.”

A triumphant grin takes over his features and he's leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Let's keep it in then,” He's mumbling against your mouth and you're not sure what he means until he's pulling out – fingers quick to meet your entrance, pushing his cum back inside of you.

Body twitching with overstimulation, but you let him stuff you with his cum, not able to deny how hot it was. Especially the look of concentration on his face, careful not to miss a drop. Once he's satisfied, he's secured your shorts back in place patting his hand over your crotch playfully.

“You better keep it in there, too. Gonna fuck it out of you later,” He promises with a large grin, head tilting up to nibble at your jaw. He's got one hand resting on the curve of your ass, the other gripping your thigh. Zero plans to put you down any time soon, loving the way you're wrapped around him.

He'd stay like this with you forever if he wasn't for the distance shout he's hearing from the main house. Trying to ignore it and praying that you don't hear it, but as it grows louder your ears are perking up.

“Taehyung-ah!” It's Namjoon's voice and you're immediately pulling back when you register it. “Think Joon is looking for us,” You say through a giggle, the kisses he's leaving on your skin starting to tickle.

“He'll give up.” Tae murmurs, trailing a wet line of kisses down the length of your neck. And you almost agree with him, but you hear Namjoon call again and figure it would be best to just go see what he wants. So, despite Taehyung's reluctance, you're unwrapping your legs from around him.

“Or we can go see what's up.” Taehyung's changing his tune once he's realizing you weren't going to change yours.

His arm is easily sliding around your waist, pulling your body into his as the two of you make your way back into the main house. It's a little weird walking with his cum stuffed inside of you. Like a subtle heaviness between your legs that you just barely go without noticing. And if you moved too fast you could feel a bit of it start to trickle out, forcing you to pay much more attention to your movements than usual.

When the two of you are reaching the sliding door, it's locked. Your other six men are sat in the room, snickers falling from their lips with one look at your frazzled state and the fact that you're locked out.

“Ooh, what were you guys doing out there?” You can hear Hoseok's teasing tone through the glass. As if it weren't obvious. As if they didn't hear what you guys were doing out there.

Taehyung doesn't miss a beat, hand dropping down to grasp your ass. “Stuffed her full of my cum.” He says with a wide grin that has hollers of amusement falling from their lips. “Tae!” You're gasping, face heating up as you lift your arm to punch at his shoulder.

“What it's true?” Sparkling eyes turned to you, lips shaped in a soft pout that you'd lean up and kiss if you weren't sure it'd have a glob of his cum rolling down your leg.

Namjoon, your perfect little angel, is the one to pull the door open. And you're thanking him as you walk past, carefully taking the vacant spot beside Jungkook. “Do you really have cum in you, Noona?” He wonders. Eyes dark while a curious hand reaches to brush over the waistband of your shorts.

“Only a little bit,” Fingers lifting to just barely pinch your fingers together to show him. “Prove it,” He says with a tad bit of playfulness in his tone, tugging at your shorts just slightly. 

You have half the mind to do just that. The thought lingering in your mind long enough for both Hoseok and Yoongi to notice. Intrigued, Hobi waits to see if you'll actually do it – but Yoongi speaks up before the tension can grow any thicker.

“We're choosing rooms,” Changing the subject completely acting as if an eight-way orgy wasn't just on the table. “Oh, right!” Joon, who had been subtly watching to see if you take Kook's dare is all of a sudden the reason he had gathered everyone.

A few moments are granted for conversation to bounce around the room, choosing where they'll sleep for the next seven days. And once they've settled their arrangements, attention is back on you – but for an entirely different reason now.

“Noona can share the floating house with me,” Jungkook is saying with a wide grin, keying you in on the fact that this conversation had been going on a bit longer than you had been paying attention.

With a quick nod of your head, you're assuring the young boy that you'll share the room with him. “I figured I'd just bounce around? If you guys don't care.” Much easier that way, whoever wanted you to spend the night in the room – you would. But to keep things tidy, you'd keep your stuff in the floating house with Jungkook.

“Of course we don't care-” Jin starts, but his words are being cut off by Taehyung's haste. “My room first!” Hand raised in a cute schoolboy raised, the look that he pins you with washes all remnants of the word cute out of your mind, though. 

With a thick roll of his eyes, Namjoon's standing. “If she wants to. You choose, baby.” His attention now on you and the pet name has shivers running down your spine. There was just something about the way Joon called you 'baby' that had you keening.

He doesn't act on it, though. Not right now. And neither do you. One by one, they each break off to do their own thing until dinner time. You find yourself following Jin out to the dock after hearing he was going to fish for a little bit. You had gone on quite a few fishing trips with him, never did it but liked to keep him company when he went.

It's hard to ignore how at ease you feel here, with them. Not a single worry in mind in this secluded spot with your favorite guys. Where they're able to be themselves and be with you and be happy. Thankful that you were able to join them. And so ready to be apart of the memories this next week holds.

No matter how sticky.

- seven days in the forest spent with your seven boyfriends while they film their upcoming reality tv show. there’s no telling what the eight of you will get into when the cameras are off.

masterlist ⤐

⇝ taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @dee-ehn @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hehehehahahohohuhu @sw33tnight @butterflylion @withlovestudyblr @soulstaes @bangtansonyeondayyyum @samros95 @korkanswers @houseofarmanto @marifujioka @tae165 @uxwi @jinhitwhore @preciouschimine @yeontanie21 @aa-ronpa @taefect94 @lee-karliah @codeinebelle @mochibabycakes @diminieshoe @fuddyize  @soloikeadates @0xmysticx0 @bbyjoonies @amoreguk @tricethecharm @diminieshoe @jayyayyy17 @softlyjins @bangtan-noona @fan-ati--c @fuck-expectations-people @paradisetaemin @nyamjinnie @lilacdreams-00 @vsugakookie0104 @koostime @la-evforia @betysotelo18 @chocobetterknot @simplysanha @delicategukkie @kookieswithtaeq @jeon-ggukkie @angjeon @bangtansbun @flamboyant-louie @elliemeetsevil @angiexyoung @stonyiscanon @strawberryforever25 @mipetronella @rageyoudamnednerd @hellotherehoneybee @joonies-babyy @mypurplelamp @jikooksgirl19 @sushi-date-ghost​ @bigimpression​ @kookiesjoonies​ @amour-quinn​ @diamonddia-mond​ @alterlovess​ @gemad08​ @daydreambrliever​ @acc3ssdenied​ @silentlyimpractical​ @bella-victoria002​ @ashleyjoyx​ @yoooonie​ @diamonddia-mond​ @btsbed​ @sungieshines​ @thia-aep​ @taeshuworld​ @hopiebabie​ @trynavibewhileicry​ @illwritetomorrow​ @kookoo-kachoo​ @prettxyliies​ @triviasjms​ @ratking101​ @elephantdoors​ @feel-like-gold​ @kelitt​ @itsponybeaches​ @alpaca1612​ @jeonkookiebangtan​ @rather-not-sayy​ @kimsouthjoon​ @beeeb05​ @dreamcatcherjiah​ @yoongiverse​

[daenqyu]

— doing their eyeliner at 12AM

includes: bakugou, kaminari, kirishima, and hawks

warnings: suggestive (LOTS of making out)

a/n: did i write this just because i love doing my eyeliner and i really want to sit on a guy’s lap while i do his???? maybe. but that’s none of your business 🙄☝️

bakugou katsuki

it’s canon that he wears eyeliner and even if it wasn’t,,, he’d still try it at least ONCE

in this case you had to ask him

well more like beg him 

“babe please, i promise i’ll make a good work!” 

“how? you suck at doing yours”

you scoff before punching his arm, making him let out a hiss as he glares at you

“i don’t you idiot, now can you shut up and stay still for a second?”

of course he ends up giving in bc come on, he’d do anything just to make you happy and if that meant letting you put makeup on him at 12AM because you thought he’d look ‘pretty’ then so be it

bakugou doesn’t voice out any of this though 

instead, he keeps complaining and even tickles your sides from time to time just to get on your nerves

“bakugou,” he frowns when his last name falls from your lips, not liking how it sounded at all. “stop fucking moving or i’ll stap your eye.”

“tch, stop telling me what to do, dumbass.”

but he does stop

after all, he didn’t really want you to get mad at him

he entertains himself by tapping his fingers against your thighs to the beat of the music playing from your speaker 

his touch makes butterflies flutter in your stomach, but you ignore them and continue to draw on his eyelids 

you decide to keep it simple; just a very defined line that’s not too thick, but enough so that it’s visible 

“okay, i’m done”

after you put the eyeliner down and notice bakugou’s eyes were focused on you, you completely forget how to breathe

the black makes his vermilion eyes look even brighter and in contrast with his blonde hair...he simply looks beautiful 

he takes your silence as a bad sign and thinks you probably did fuck up, but when he looks at himself in his phone camera, the makeup looks fine to him so,

why the heck weren’t you saying anything?

“what is it? do you not like it?”

didn’t like it? couldn’t he see you were practically salivating bc of him?

“uh no, you look really good actually,” you look away before continuing, not trusting yourself to look at him while you said the next words. “you look pretty”

bakugou is a little surprised by the compliment, but he wastes no time before teasing you

he leans in, and once he’s close enough, he takes your chin so you’re looking directly at him

a smirk takes over his lips when your eyes avoid his

“what’s got you so shy?” he teases

“i’m not”

“then look at me” 

you didn’t want him to know how big of an effect he had on you, so you turn your head around and face him, even tho you’re flustered beyond belief

his eyes slowly look down at your lips and then back to your eyes, making you a little anxious as to what could happen, but bakugou decides to drags it out

just to have some fun of his own

he places one of his hands on the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your noses are almost touching 

the other one caresses your cheek softly, then his fingers slowly trace out your jaw, eyes still stuck on your own 

it’s infuriating really

the way his fingers carefully touch your lips, applying a bit more pressure on his thumb that’s touching your lower lip so he can open your mouth ever so slightly 

the way he acts as if he has all the time in the world, as if he could do this all day

and you know he can

but you don’t 

so you lean in to close the distance with a deep kiss

it’s messy and sloppy; his tongue clashing with your own as his hands roam all over your body to feel you

you end up sitting on his lap, lips still connected and hands all over each other

you pull away, chest heaving as rough breaths leave your mouth and smirk when you notice bakugou is looking at you 

his hair is messy thanks to your gripping and the eyeliner fits him so nicely

for a moment you almost can’t believe he’s your boyfriend 

“have i ever told you how handsome i think you are?” you ask him with a goofy smile on your face, fingers playing with the ends of his hair

“hm, once or twice but you can always remind me again” 

“let me just show you”

he quirks an eyebrow at your implication, licking his lips as his eyes darken

“oh? bold, aren’t we now?”

“learned from the best”

“fuck yeah you did”

to keep it short, you guys didn’t sleep a lot that night 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

kaminari denki

he was DEFINITELY the one that came up with the idea

something just tells me he probably spends 90% of his time scrolling through tiktok 

and if he feels like it, maybe he’ll even posts some of his own

so it’s no surprise that he’s caught up with all the trends and challenges

and even dances (which surprisingly, he’s damn good at)

i’m guessing you guys already know what i’m trying to get at

he had seen way too many tiktoks of couples doing their partner’s eyeliner and he thought it was the coolest thing ever

not only was he curious to see how the makeup would look on him, but he also just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you

he had been thinking about it for a few weeks now, but couldn’t seem to find the perfect moment to ask you

until one night you guys were having a sleepover on your dorm and a video of said trend pops up on his ‘fyp’

you’re cuddling, your head against his chest as his fingers trace random pattern on your back, when he brings it up

“hey babe?”

you hum in response, eyes fluttering open to look up at kaminari

he smiles before pecking your lips, thinking about how beautiful you look all cuddled up next to him

“do you think you could do my eyeliner real quick?”

the question takes you by surprise,

tho you’re used to yout boyfriend being quite spontaneous and random at times, so you don’t really question it

instead, you nod and move out of the bed to get the makeup product, which sits on your vanity

“where should i sit?”

he asks you once you walk over to him, but you simply smile before taking a seat on his lap

you position your legs on either side of his hips so you’re in a straddling position and kaminari almost forgets all about the makeup because of this

but can you really blame him?

you just look so perfect like this

he has to physically stop himself from flipping you over and kissing you all he wants

and you giggle when you notice a pout forming on his face

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing”

“you sure?”

“yeah, just hurry up and do it so i can kiss you”

you laugh, “yes sir”

when you start, he can’t help but giggle at the feeling and you have to hold his face in place so he would stop moving

he gets used to it after a while 

almost even falls asleep from how soft your other hand felt on his cheek

since you know kaminari likes to be a little extra, you attempt to draw a lighting bolt right below one of the lines

it’s not the best, but it looks decent enough so you decide to leave it there

but when you finish, you feel like something is missing; like it could be better

then you have the fantastic idea to use eyeshadow

kaminari feels you getting up from his lap and he whines 

“where are you going?”

“hold on, i’m feeling inspired right now”

“okay?”

he doesn’t understand what you mean at all, but he lets you be

you take a random eyeshadow palette and make sure it has a nice black color on it

then you reposition yourself on his lap

“open your eyes and look up”

he does as he’s told and you proceed to put some more black on his lower lash line and waterline (not too much)

when kaminari doesn’t feel your touch on his face anymore, he looks down at you with a smile, which inevitably makes you smile too

“how do i look?”

you chuckle lowly, examining his eyes once more 

he always looks gorgeous, but the eyeliner just...makes him hit different

and the fact he’s wearing one of his chokers doesn’t make it any better

he looks straight out of alt tiktok

“you, my beautiful boyfriend, look very attractive”

he smirks at your teasing tone, “oh? is that so?”

“i’m afraid it is” 

he doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror because all he could think about was kissing you

and that’s what he does

he holds your face with both of his hands before pulling you in to kiss you

his lips feel hot and so does your whole body when he grips your hips

after a few more kisses, he pulls away and looks at you with excited eyes

“can i do yours now?”

you chuckle at his cuteness before nodding and letting him draw on your face

it’s not perfect, but hey! baby tried his best and that’s all that matters

besides he looks so proud of himself, telling you how cute you look and how lucky he is to call you his

“you look soooo pretty! i mean you always do, of course, but you look even prettier which i didn’t know was humanly possible yet here you are”

he ends up going on a rant about all the things he loves about you and you’re pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes by the time he ends

“i love you”

“i love you too, my pretty girl”

kirishima eijirou:

this man has absolutely tried on eyeliner at least once in his life

has it been good? probably not

but he likes it and thinks it looks very cool

sometimes you do yours and kirishima lives for it

he likes the way it compliments the shape of your eyes and how happy you get when you get the line right from the first try

whenever you’re getting ready and he’s with you, he doesn’t take his eyes off you

a smile spreading across his lips when he sees you bite down on your lower lip in concentration, your fingers skillfully tracing the marker on your eyelids 

and that’s when the idea pops in his head

he ponders on it for a while tho, not sure how to bring it up or if you’d be up to do it

it takes him a few days before he asks you and when he does, he looks all nervous 

you’re both hanging out in his dorm cuddling as you just finished watching a movie

a yawn leaves your lips and you stretch your arms, looking at the time on your phone screen

it reads 12:33 AM 

you hum, moving your head up to look at kirishima from your place on his lap

he looks down at you and offers you a sweet smile before placing a quick kiss on your lips

“i should get going,” he pouts at your words, his hold on your waist tightening so you couldn’t stand up and you giggle, turning around completely so you’re facing him

you wrap your hands around his neck to pull him closer, just until your lips touch

you teasingly smirk at him before kissing his cheek and he frowns

“what? don’t you like my kisses?” you pout at him 

kirishima scoffs at your stupid question and grabs your jaw gently, looking you in the eyes

“stop being a tease”

you roll your eyes, “you’re so impatient”

nevertheless you comply and connect your lips with his, your hands now slightly massaging his nape

he hums against your mouth, prompting you to keep going

before things can go any further tho, you pull away 

he huffs childishly, not liking the way you kept leaving him hanging

“i seriously should get going,” you press one last peck on his lips. “don’t wanna risk getting caught here” 

“then just stay the night”

“baby i already did yesterday”

“uhh your point?”

you chuckle, “good try babe”

you attempt to stand up but once again your boyfriend stops you from doing so

you open your mouth to ask him what’s up 

but he beats you to it

“actually, i wanted to ask you something” he’s looking away from you and that makes you a little nervous, not having a clue about what he wanted to talk about 

you nod, silently telling him to keep going

“could you...do my eyeliner?” a blush creeps onto his neck, his eyes still not meeting yours and you think he looks adorable. before you can answer him, he talks again. “but i mean only if you want to cause’ i know it’s kinda hard so it’s okay if you don’t but i think i’d be really cool and-”

“oh my god eijirou it’s okay!” he finally shuts up and looks at you with big eyes

“it is?”

“hm, i’m more than happy to do it,” he lets out a sigh after hearing your comforting words and you kiss his nose. “besides you’ll look super manly”

if kirishima was already head over heels for you, then now he just wanted to straight up marry you

you got up and started to look around in kirishima’s bathroom drawer since sometimes you left some of your stuff behind just in case

luckily, the eyeliner was there

after you took it, you sat in front of kirishima once again, your legs crossed and you moved closer to him

he kept still and let you get comfortable, looking down at your lips briefly when you got a bit too close

“close your eyes”

and so he did

like i mentioned before, you’re a bit experienced with this since you practice on yourself quite a lot

so it doesn’t take you too much time

the line you drew was a bit thicker than normal but not too much

and instead of doing a straight line, you did it a bit more upwards

“and done!” you say happily while retracting your hand from kirishima’s face

he opens his eyes and offers you a grin

the action is small and meaningless, but it somehow makes you nervous

the makeup really suits him and you can’t help but admire him for a while 

by admiring i mean shamelessly checking him out

of course he notices it

and he teases you about it

“does it look good?”

“yeah,” you answer while looking away, trying to hide how flustered you are. “really good”

he hums before placing his hands on your waist and sitting you down on his lap, making you look at him with a surprised expression on your face

one of his hands stays on your waist while the other travels up to hold your face

you let out a heavy breath at his actions, feeling your heart thumping against your chest

his fingers caress your cheek softly and you lean in to his touch, loving the way he was always so gentle with you

without any warning, kirishima smashes his lips against your own

your eyes widen for a moment, not expecting this at all, but you close them when you feel his tongue touching your lower lip

you open your mouth and let him take the lead, a whimper coming out of you when you feel his hand wrap around your neck, pressing slightly

he pulls away with a smirk, both of your chests heaving from the lack of air

“still wanna leave?”

you sigh while moving your head, yet a smile was evident on your face, “i guess i can stay”

“atta girl”

takami keigo (hawks):

another one who canonically wears eyeliner !!

unlike bakugou (who does his eyeliner to cover up the gap between his mask and eyes), keigo does his solemnly because he thinks it looks good on him

wait, let me rephrase that

he knows it looks good on him

it’s part of his morning routine, he does it every time before going to work

so sometimes while you’re both getting ready for the day, you see him doing it

you open the bathroom door sleepily, barely managing to keep your eyes open

you walk over to the sink next to keigo’s and splash water on your face to wake yourself up

beside you, keigo smiles at your antics

he thinks you look the cutest in the mornings, especially when you’re grumpy

feeling his eyes on your figure, you turn around to face him with a raised brow

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like i have something on my face”

he laughs at your attitude and walks over to place a kiss on your cheek

his lips feel warm against your cheek and it makes you smile

“good morning to you too” his says teasingly

“morning birdy” your tone matches his and he rolls his eyes playfully before pulling away from you to finish doing his eye makeup

you brush your teeth quickly while thinking about what you were gonna have for breakfast, and whether keigo had time to eat with you or not

once you finish, you place your toothbrush on its place and look over to your right

only to be met with the number two hero doing his eyeliner

in one hand he holds a feather of his against his eyelid, as if to help him do a straight line, and with the other he holds the actual makeup product

he has a concentrated look on his face, his brows slightly furrowed

and you look at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes

he looks so effortlessly beautiful

his golden locks are messy, yet perfectly in place and his wings rest by his side

he has his hero costume on, except for his coat

meaning his muscular arms are in full display for you to see

you don’t realize you’re staring until keigo finally finishes the second eye, and puts down the eyeliner

he smirks at you through the mirror and you look away, embarrassment clear on your face 

“come on, i made us breakfast”

instead of teasing you, like you thought he would, he simply grabs your hand and leads you to the dining table

your heart swells for the man and you look at the two plates in awe, “you did this?”

“is it so hard to believe?”

you roll your eyes before turning around and kissing him, a soft “thank you” leaving your lips as you pull away

that morning you can’t help but keep stealing glances at your boyfriend’s flawless eyeliner

and later that night, when you’re both cuddled up in each other’s arms  watching a movie, you get the sudden brilliant idea

“hey babe, can i do your eyeliner?”

keigo doesn’t even question you, he just nods before pressing a kiss to your neck and you giggle happily

you stand up to get the eyeliner from your shared bathroom and once you return, you take a seat right in front of him

“do you even know what you’re doing?” 

“shut up, i do my makeup too, you know?”

keigo laughs, “i’m just teasing baby”

“you’re mean”

he leans in towards you, pulling you closer by your hips until his lips hover over yours

unconsciously, your eyes look down at his lips, wondering whether he was gonna kiss you or not

but being the little shit he is, keigo doesn’t 

“you should hurry up,” his lips are still inches away from yours, but he doesn’t plan on closing the gap any time soon. “i wanna finish the movie”

this fucker

you clear your throat and move away from him, enough so that you can actually do the makeup, but his hands stay on your hips

you try your best to do it the exact same way he does it

a sharp, straight line that covers part of his outer v and also a small portion of his inner corner

giving his eyes a cat like shaped form

to add your own touch, you draw two small hearts on both sides of his cheekbones 

“m’kay, you can open your eyes now”

and when he does, your breath literally hitches in your throat

of course it’s not the first time you’ve seen him wearing eyeliner

but your faces are still close and his amber eyes are stuck on yours and you just feel like you’re about to explode

your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by keigo and he smirks 

“i take it you like how it looks?” his tone is flirty and it makes you snap from your trance

you smile at him, softly tracing the two hearts with your fingers, “hm, you look lovely”

“oh really?”

“yeah”

“not as lovely as you, i bet”

and before you can even disagree with him, he presses his lips against yours

you let out a soft moan when he moves you so you’re sitting on his lap and his tongue explores your mouth ever so passionately

keigo takes his sweet time kissing you, taking in every little sound you make and the way your hips slowly move against his thigh

when you pull away, your lips are swollen and you have some spit coating them

which is enough to make keigo go crazy, but before actually doing something, he takes the eyeliner on his hand

you furrow your eyebrows at his action

“what are you doing?”

“well it’s my turn now”

“why do you oh so suddenly want to do my eyeliner?”

he smiles, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “because i wanna see how it’ll look when i make you cry it off”

your eyes widen at his words, but you make no attempt to stop him

keigo kept his promise and he indeed made you cry all of your eyeliner off 😁👍🏼

[howdoyousleep3]

where’s that hc about bucky learning to touch 🤲

I was hoping someone would notice that tag and hit me up. Thank you, sweet pea. This one is special to me, one of many. ❤

Bucky doesn’t say much about what happened to him after the fall and before Steve was miraculously given a second chance at a life with him. Steve is thankful for that. The details he does know come from Bucky’s therapist and from files that have been scrounged up over time, ones Steve can’t stomach through, ones he hands to Natasha and asks only for the information she finds pertinent.

Steve is sure he’d die of a goddamn broken heart if he knew every detail of Bucky’s 70+ years of brainwashed torture.

What he needs to know about Bucky is constant and will never change: this is James Barnes, the one in the same Steve spent his entire life falling in love with, Steve loves him now more than ever, and he is going to live every day he’s gifted with in this life for Bucky.

There are things Steve expects after Bucky joins him and the others back at the Tower, things Bruce has helped him comprehend in such a volatile predicament.

“It could take months, years even, for him to come back to you in full. And honestly, Steve...I would be ready for the possibility of him not returning to you in full. This may not end up being the Bucky you knew and grew up with. He needs therapy, needs patience, needs reminders of his life before, of who he was and is. This won’t be easy, Steve.”

Anything for Bucky.

There are things Bucky took to right away and other things that took much longer for him to enjoy or remember. Steve is with him every step of the way.

Sleep was one thing that Steve thought would be a struggle. After only one month of sleeping on the floor in the corner of his bedroom, Steve able to hear him tossing and turning and breathing heavily through his own bedroom wall, it took one afternoon nap on the couch to make him want to move to his new bed. While nightmares continued, Bucky slept albeit in small increments and sometimes through the day, but he slept.

Steve thought that would take years.

Crowds were another story. Crowds came with trust and Bucky rightfully didn’t trust others easily. He barely trusted Steve at first. It took time to get him out of the apartment, baby steps, one step forward and two steps back. They started with walks at dawn, fewer people, gave a shot at stopping for coffee on the way home a few times.

“It’s a Venti here, Buck,” Steve had tried to explain and Bucky huffed. “Why are things so goddamn complicated now? Just want a coffee, a—”

“I know— a black coffee with too much sugar. I got it.”

They’re working on interactions with others and the anxiety that comes with crowds. That one will take time.

What hadn’t taken time, and what startled everyone in the tower beyond belief, was Bucky and affection.

Steve may not know much of what Bucky has spent most of his life enduring but he at least had the assumption that what Bucky went through shouldn’t make him want any kind of touch from another person. Steve wrongfully assumed that any sort of gentle or soft touch wasn't something Bucky would like.

Bucky had spent the past 70+ years walking this earth as a killer, a robot, a machine, an assassin. He surely spent decades thinking he wasn’t worthy of anything, let alone love. He had been touch-starved, void of the tenderness and closeness Steve knows Bucky deserved and craved underneath the brainwashed parts of him.

It took time for Bucky to remember who Steve was to him. While he had recognized him immediately, remembering him but not how, it took months for Bucky to remembered the capacity in which he did so.

And Steve waited.

And waited.

Steve was gifted with small moments along the way, on this journey of Bucky remembering both himself and who Steve was to him:

“You...you were real small once,” Bucky said, factual with no trace of a question, hands in soapy water as he handed Steve a plate to dry. Steve had merely hummed. “Yeah, was...was maybe half the size I am now. Real small.”

“Could fit both’a my hands right around your middle…”

It had been a long while since Steve blushed like that.

Bucky standing over Steve’s sleeping form, heaving chest visible by only the filtered moonlight, Steve mumbling out a, “Buck, wha—?” before Bucky whispered, “You...you’ve been inside of me.” Steve sat up.

“I have,” Steve breathed, on cautious ground, shakier when Bucky then whispered, “But you like it better when I’m inside’a you.”

When Steve had swallowed audibly, nodded his head wordlessly, Bucky had turned and left the room.

It took months of moments like those to compile together, to form the picture of what Steve once was, what he yearned to continue to be, to Bucky. All of these moments, these memories, came to a head so unpredictably during yet another movie night. Knees knocking, fingers brushing, small touches that Steve absolutely soaked in, had gotten used to, had relearned.

When a glance towards Bucky had the wind knocking its way out of Steve’s chest, the familiarity of that look a bone-deep ache—

Bucky was going to kiss him.

A look full of determination and want, lips parted, eyes a bit glassy. Steve didn't dare move, had let Bucky come to him for fear of scaring him away. The moment their lips touched was the moment Bucky started crying. It had only been a short brush of their lips but Steve barely breathed, barely moved. Bucky had pulled back with wide, wet eyes, shaky breaths. “Buck, it’s okay. It’s okay. Everything’s alright, sweetheart,” are the words that easily slipped from his mouth, unable to stop them in a moment of progress that satiated his entire being.

That was the moment that changed everything. It was a startle to everyone involved. Steve had been ready to wait years, this entire life, for the moment he could touch Bucky again, could show him that physicality he knew his Buck craved. After that night on the couch it was as if the floodgates had opened—

Bucky remembered and wanted.

Regardless of where they were or what was happening, he wanted to be touching Steve: soft kisses on the cheek and lips, laying his head in Steve’s lap as he read, lacing his fingers between Steve’s during meetings, an arm wrapped around Steve’s waist between bouts of sparring. He’d trace patterns onto Steve’s thigh as he watched Steve draw, press against the line of his back while he cooked dinner.

Steve was floating on a cloud, was in heaven, never happier. It was perfection.

But what Bucky wanted, Steve couldn’t provide, couldn’t meet. Steve was only one man, couldn’t provide Bucky, whom touch had been stolen away from for decades, with everything he wanted. And that was okay, something Steve accepted, because there were other people Bucky could turn to that Steve trusted.

“I’m sure you all know why I asked you to meet with me,” Steve started, choosing a time Bucky was napping to meet with the rest of the group that either lived in or frequented the Tower. “Bucky has shown us a new side of him, has made some progress I think it’s worth discussing with everyone, since we’re all...we’ve all been affected...”

“Uhh, yeah— your Barnes-y boy has been all over me lately. I’m almost offended that everyone else is here to talk to Cap though. Thought he was just comin' onto me.”

“I have to tell you, I didn’t...I know we talked, Steve. But I’m honestly shocked at Bucky’s progress. It’s baffling.”

“I haven’t minded it. He lets me braid his hair.”

“Wait— y’all are getting touches?”

It was a group effort, supporting Bucky in this way. It was an adjustment, Bucky never prompting and questioning before touching or requesting touches— he just went for it. He was quiet still, not shy, merely observant. And just like he nudged at and leaned against Steve until his hands were on him, he did the same to others.

“I just ask that you show Bucky grace during this time. It’s a delicate situation. I need to know if you don’t want his touch or don’t wish to give him any kind of touch. I think it would be best if it came from me instead of from you in the moment.”

Natasha was who Bucky went to for scratches. Steve thinks it’s the nails. Steve also thinks Nat is Bucky’s favorite to go to for touches, even over him, but Bucky refuses to admit it.

When Bucky wants mindless touches, when he wants tickles and scratches, he goes to her. She naturally took to Bucky’s need for touches, the first occurrence one that came without hesitation. She’ll braid his hair, let him turn his head right where he wants her head scratches, naturally reaches for his back or shoulders to run her nails across when he saddles in close to her.

Thor is one of Bucky’s favorites too. Steve isn’t sure if it’s because of his strength or because of his warm and accepting demeanor but Bucky gravitates towards Thor often, mainly for neck and shoulder rubs. One, “James, my friend. You musn’t be afraid of asking for touch with me. I will always be willing to assist,” and that was all Bucky needed to feel comfortable walking over to Thor and nudging at his hands.

He puts his head on Bruce’s shoulder as soon as he can, likes sparring and playing hide and seek with Clint, enjoys putting his feet in Sam’s lap. Tony took some warming up to, but even then Bucky spent many hours in Tony’s lab, Tony guiding his hands, showing him what to do and how to work different machines, the two of them tinkering on his own arm.

Bucky kinda turns into the Tower kitty cat, wandering around quietly, napping in the sun, snacking, demanding affection from anyone he crosses paths with and trusts.

Everyone had their form of touch they shared with Bucky and Bucky absolutely blossomed under this form of support. Steve is forever grateful to be surrounded by a group of understanding individuals.

And every night when he lifts the comforter and feels the solid line of Bucky’s warm form against his side, the arm that now easily and inevitably slips around his waist, the familiar lips that always press against his temple, shoulder, and cheek, Steve is reminded this day was for Bucky and that the one they’ll wake up to will also be for him.

"I love you, Buck."

"Mhmm love you too, pal."

Steve doesn't even mind that Bucky spends his nights snoring in the crook of his neck, hot breath wafting over Steve's skin, hands grabby even as he dreams—

This is heaven.

[athraethy]

being too rough (tokyo revengers x reader)

summary - You’re both fooling around, as two members of Toman its easy to be rough when play fighting or tugging each other around. However there’s always limits, and you make the mistake of being too rough.

pairing - gn!reader x mikey / draken / baji / 

warning - a bit of shoving around / getting angry at you

a/n - just to clarify but you arent in a relationship in this, just friends :3

word count - 1.1k

You didnt mean to.

The street lights led you farther down the sidewalk, through the night darkness and the cold breeze that swept past the city of Tokyo. It was easy to lose yourself in the adrenaline of the run, your footsteps audible when sprinting down dark alleys and sharp turns.

Unbothered by the figure behind you who fought for each breath to catch up to you, you ignored their pleas to ride their motorcycle instead.

“Its more fun to run,” you protested. “Let me feel like a kid sneaking out again, we ride your motorcycle everyday.”

“Well not everyone is a cardio monster,” was his only response. You gave him a pause to bend over and struggle to find the rhythmic pattern of his breath again before you took his hand.

“Well, not my problem is it?”

But no matter what argument you offered, he was growing more and more tired, and all it took was one sharp tug for him to end up sprawled over the gravelled sidewalk. It was that moment you knew you had screwed up, especially when he looked up to flash you a very, very nasty scowl.

Mikey

Out of everyone you could’ve tugged into the floor, Mikey is probably the worst options. All fatigue is drained from his face when he looks up, and he makes standing up a slow precarious process that has you knowing you fucked up.

The short blonde haired boy had tolerated your behaviour all night, just for your sake. Something he wouldnt do for many other people, and he lets you know that when walking towards you until you have your back against the wall, and his chest pressed against yours.

“I told you to stop.”

It takes a moment for you to catch your breath, flinching at the unusual proximity between you both. “I’m really sorry, I got lost in the moment, I should’ve stopped long ago-”

“Damn well you should’ve,” is all he says. But Mikey doesn’t have the energy to continue to fight, and all he truly wants at the moment is to be settled on his motorcycle with Dorayaki in hand. Not to lecture you about what you should’ve done, he’s sure you know.

So he backs up, taking a step away so that he is no longer caging you against the wall. “I’m going back home, I’ll drop you off.” Before you could reply, he gave you another scowl. “And I’m not up for conversation, don’t talk to me.”

You were about to apologize again, but stopped at the petty comment. Its not like you could complain, he was driving you home. You’d probably be tired of your antics if you’d been in the same position.

But settling into complete silence was impossible for the entire way back, and about halfway through you found yourself skipping in front to peer down at his legs.

“What is it.”

His monotone tone made it sound more like a statement than a question, and you glowered back. “I was making sure that you were okay, I wasn’t sure if you scratched up your knees or something…” trailing off, you realized it would be a better time to apologize. “I’m really sorry about that by the way. Thank you for driving me home.”

Mikey let the silence draw out before answering. “Its fine, I’ve already forgiven you.” He lifts both legs to give his knees a look, expression blank when shrugging. “Wasn’t even a hard fall, it didn’t hurt. If anything I was more pissed you weren’t listening to me.”

“That's fair, next time we can just go on a ride or walk over to grab Dorayaki.”

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

Draken

The taller blonde was not one to be pushed around, when he did things it was solely because he wanted to. Letting you lead him around the city had been one of those things, and he was not happy in the slightest to have ended up on the ground.

“What the fuck Y/n,” was all he said when getting up. Dusting at his pants and jacket to make sure the fall hadn’t dirtied them at all. “I told you to stop.”

Shuddering under his stare, you approached, arms outstretched. “I’m really sorry, you’re right I should’ve listened.” Your hand tugged at his jacket, making sure it wasn’t torn or scratched up. “You didn’t get hurt did you?”

Draken had wanted to stay angry at you for longer, but it was impossible to remain in that state when you were so concerned. He sighed, “Yes I’m okay, my clothes are even fine so you don’t have to worry.”

“Okay good.” But despite how quickly that had solved itself, you still felt bad. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t apologize again.” The latter grabbed your shoulder comfortingly, tugging you forwards. “Its cold anyway, I’ll get you back home.”

“You don’t have to.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking down as if he doubted your words. “You sure about that?” But when noting the guilt that lingered on your face, he could only frown. “It’s fine, if I offer you a ride its because I want to.”

“Oh, okay thank you.” The genuine response caught you off guard, but you let the warmth from his sincerity heat you up for the journey back to his motorcycle.

Baji

For someone who holds his pride and dignity in high regard, Baji won’t take the fall lightly. He is not someone to be pushed around, and he has his limits when it comes to playful shoving. He will be standing in a matter of seconds, not wanting anyone to have seen him on the floor.

“The fuck was that,” he asks, hand pushing you down the street. “You were going too fast, I even asked you to stop!” The second shove was harder than the first, and the third almost sent you tumbling to the ground.

But you knew how to stand your ground, catching his hand before he tried to push you again. “I’m sorry,” you replied earnestly, staring straight into his eyes with the apology. “I wasn’t listening to you and I should’ve, lets go home okay?”

Baji takes more time to cool down than the rest, but you’re still his friend and despite the whole situation, he’s always willing to look past it for the people he cares about. Anger can just take over him in the moment.

On the way back to his bike, he flashes you an apologetic glance, struggling to find the words. He shouldn’t have started shoving you like that, but you just looked like you wanted to get back home-

“Oh spit it out Baji, you look like a fish out of water.”

“Fish out of water…?”

The two of you fall into comfortable banter in no time, and Baji will probably forget what he was angry or worried about to start with. 

“Next time,” you give the dark haired boy a cheeky grin. “You can bring your bike along, it’ll make it easier for you to catch up with me while I run.”

“Hey! I can totally outrun you if I wanted, I was just tired!”

“Mhm, sure. Sounds like an excuse to me.”

“It isn’t!!”

[buckleyblueyes]

ahh that's amazing! thank you in advance. I got this idea into my head: what if there is this one time they're all on a call, and maybe it's something that hits a little too close to home for Buck, maybe it's playing on his fears and insecurities, but the moment Buck sees what they're dealing with he gets SCARED, and freezes, and subconsciously grabs Eddie's hand, because Eddie makes him feel safe. He is his best friend (who he's in love with, ofc) after all. Eddie is well. Surprised. Very much.

Anon! Thank you so much for your patience with this one! I know it's been ages since you sent it in. I hope it's worth the wait and that I did justice to your prompt! (CW: drowning)

Eddie feels Buck tense up beside him as soon as Bobby tells them where they're going: Splash Zone Water Park. They have calls to pools fairly often, and Buck always gets a little bit tense going into it, no matter how long it’s been since the tsunami. Eddie presses his knee against Buck’s in the truck, offering a silent comfort to his friend. Buck seems to push down his fears by the time they pull up to the scene, forcing himself to shift into Firefighter Buckley mode as they make their way through the park. Eddie lets himself be relieved, until they arrive in front of the wave pool.

Of course it’s the goddamn wave pool. Even worse, there’s a nine year old boy laid out on the stone patio next to the pool, dripping wet, brown hair plastered to his forehead. He’s unconscious, bleeding from the side of his head, and his chest isn't rising and falling like it should be. Buck freezes immediately at the sight, reaching out for Eddie with his right hand, and wrapping his fingers around Eddie’s left wrist. It takes Eddie a moment to realize that Buck is feeling for his pulse, grounding himself.

Eddie does his best to steady his breathing and heart rate once he realizes what Buck is doing. The sight in front of them is upsetting to him, of course it is, but he knows it’s worse for Buck. He’s not the one who walked around for hours not knowing if Christopher was dead or alive. He’s not the one who almost died himself (at least, not that day.) “It’s okay,” he murmurs quietly, so only Buck can hear. “I’m here, I’m alive. That’s not Christopher.” It’s purely a medical call at this point, so he makes no attempt to move away from Buck as Hen and Chimney begin administering CPR to the boy. His mother is crying, wailing, begging them to save him. His lips are turning blue. Buck’s grip on Eddie’s wrist is like a vice.

“We got a pulse!” Hen finally calls out.

Buck’s grip doesn’t loosen, but Eddie does hear him let out of a heavy breath. He twists his hand out of Buck’s grip just enough that he can slide his arm up, so Buck is no longer holding his wrist, but is holding his hand. He gives Buck’s hand a firm squeeze and finally hazards a glance up at the man in question. Buck is staring at their intertwined hands now, confused. At least, Eddie decides, he’s distracted from the drowning boy. He runs his thumb along the back of Buck’s hand, in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

He knows they’re crossing some kind of line here, that hand holding in the middle of an emergency scene (even one where their presence turned out not to be strictly necessary) is not something that he’ll be able to brush off as strictly platonic. It doesn’t scare him like it used to, though. Maybe it’s because he watched Buck date Taylor, so he knows how much worse it would be to not have Buck, or maybe it’s all the therapy he’s been in since the shooting. Either way, Eddie’s not afraid anymore. He and Buck have been on the edge of something--or maybe everything--for months, so if holding Buck’s hand will help ground him, keep his mind from thrusting him back in time, then it’s a risk Eddie is willing to take.

Hen and Chimney are loading the boy into the ambulance--he is breathing again, still unconscious and probably severely concussed, but alive--when Bobby finally makes his way over to them. He takes in the haunted look in Buck’s eyes, and the fact that their hands are still tightly clasped together, and frowns.

“You boys alright?” He asks, but he’s looking at Buck.

Buck nods slowly. “I--Yeah. Just...Brought up some bad memories.”

“This was a rough one,” Bobby agrees. “I’m gonna take us off rotation for a while when we get back to the station.”

“Thanks, Cap,” Eddie says. Buck doesn’t say anything.

Bobby smiles in that warm, fatherly way of his, looking between them. “Take care of each other.”

As if there’s any universe where they wouldn’t.

Eddie doesn’t let go of Buck’s hand until they get back to the station, and only because he needs two hands to cook.

“I’m not hungry,” Buck says, still hovering in Eddie’s space.

“You were about to eat before the call came in,” Eddie insists gently. “You need to eat.”

“And you’re gonna cook for me?” Buck shakes his head. “I think I’ll take my chances with starvation.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, pulling out a griddle and a clean spatula. “I think I can handle grilled cheese, Buck.”

Buck’s mouth opens and closes in surprise. “Grilled cheese?”

“Maddie may have mentioned making it for you a lot growing up.” Eddie flushes slightly at having to admit he’s talked to Maddie about Buck. “I thought it would be comforting.”

Buck stares at him, eyes wide and mouth turning up into a tentative smile. “Yeah, it is.”

“Good,” Eddie smiles back. “Now, go sit down.”

Eddie bustles about the kitchen, pulling out the good buttermilk bread that Chimney always buys instead of the whole wheat bread that Bobby puts on the list, the pre-sliced cheddar cheese, and the butter. “After we eat, how about we video call Christopher?” It’s late in the afternoon, he’ll be home from school by now.

Buck lets out a long exhale. “Yes, please.”

Eddie flips the bread slices on the griddle and places the cheese slices on the toasted side. “Great.”

“I--” Buck starts. “I didn’t know how to ask.”

Eddie looks up from the sandwiches. “How to ask for what?”

“To talk to Christopher,” Buck draws patterns on the tabletop with his index finger. “I know I’m not--He’s not mine.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first, just plates up the sandwiches, brings them over to the table, and sits down next to Buck, who takes a small, tentative bite.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“What?”

“You said Christopher isn’t yours,” Eddie picks up his sandwich, but doesn’t bite into it. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Buck is staring at him again, confused.

“Look, I don’t know what we are anymore, Buck,” Eddie admits. “Things are different between us now, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know that you love Christopher, and that he loves you just as much. If that doesn’t give you a right to call him, to reassure yourself that he’s okay, then I don’t know what does.”

“I…” Buck’s eyes fill with tears.

"It's okay, Buck." Eddie reaches over to wipe Buck's tears with his thumb. “Just eat your grilled cheese."

Buck does as he’s told, making it halfway through the sandwich in three bites. “You know, there’s no law that says we have to wait until we finish eating to call Christopher.”

Eddie raises a skeptical eyebrow, looking up from his own half-eaten lunch. “Will you actually finish eating if we call now?”

“Absolutely.” Buck takes a big bite to prove his point. “See?” He says, through a mouthful of food. Something so childish shouldn’t be so endearing, and yet, somehow it is.

Helpless, Eddie pulls out his phone. Carla answers on the second ring. “You better have a good reason for interrupting math homework.”

“I do.” Eddie assures her. “Can you put Chris on?”

Carla gives him a look, but does as he asks. Christopher is grinning--probably excited to have his math homework interrupted “Hi, Dad!”

“Hey, kid.” Eddie can’t help but return his son’s smile. “How’s the math homework going?”

Christopher’s smile falters slightly. “Oh, it’s good.”

Somehow Eddie doesn’t totally believe that, but it’s not important now. “Listen, I’ve got somebody here who wants to say ‘hi’, is that okay?”

The boy’s smile comes back even wider than before. “Is it Buck?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, loud enough that the phone can catch it. “It’s me.”

“Hand the phone to Buck, Dad!” Christopher is bouncing with excitement. “Hand the phone to Buck!”

He does, scooching his chair closer so he can still see the screen himself, and before Buck can even greet Christopher, the kid is launching into a monologue.

“Buck! Dr. Lassiter assigned us a big, semester-long project for science class, can you pleeeaaase help me with it? I want to build a model of the solar system, but it has to be totally accurate.”

The tension Buck's body has been holding onto since the phrase “water park” fell from Bobby’s lips is finally starting to fade.

“Absolutely. Do we want it to move?”

Christopher’s eyes widen on screen. “Yes!”

Buck laughs. “Well then, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Eddie smiles softly, as Buck and Christopher begin planning their project. He knows he must look like a lovesick fool, but to be fair, that’s what he is. He rests one hand over the crook of Buck’s elbow, and doesn’t miss the pink that appears across his cheeks.

“Alright, you three,” that’s Carla’s voice, “Somebody still has math homework to finish, and I’m sure you boys will have to get back to work soon.”

Eddie sighs. Carla is right, unfortunately. But Buck looks lighter than he has all day. “We better do what Carla says.”

“Will you come over after work?” Christopher asks. They won't get off until after Christopher will already be at school, so Buck will probably go to his loft after work. But Eddie doesn’t doubt now that Christopher has asked, Buck will manage to make it over to their house by the time Christopher is home from school. He wonders if it's too soon to ask Buck to sleep in his bed, instead of going to his loft at all. It's yet another line to cross, but at this point Eddie's lost track of all the lines they've crossed.

“You bet,” is Buck’s answer. “Now get back to your math!”

“Okay, dad,” Christopher says, rolling his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. It’s meant to be a joke at Buck’s expense, but Eddie can see the breath catching in Buck’s throat all the same, so he pulls the phone from his hand and takes over.

“Good-bye, Christopher! We love you!”

“Bye Dad! Bye Buck! I love you guys, too.”

Buck finds his voice again. “Bye Superman!”

“So,” Eddie says, putting the phone down. “Do you feel better now?”

“Eddie…” Buck hesitates, dropping his hand down so it rests over Eddie’s. His skin is warm and rough and unlike earlier Eddie can actually enjoy the feeling. “Thank you.” He’s thanking Eddie for more than just the grilled cheese and the phone call, and Eddie knows it.

His answer is simple. He turns his hand over, and interlocks their fingers. “Always, Buck.”