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whiskeynwriting · 2 years

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Sloth

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

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Word Count: 7k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) drug use, dirty talk, praise kink, tiny daddy kink, oral (m receiving), handjob, light nipple play, rimming, mentions of bisexuality, unprotected vaginal sex, cumplay, established relationship, fluffies

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A/N: co-written with @phnyx beta-read by her and @fishingforpike can’t stop won’t stop lmao

For some reason I find myself feeling incredibly iffy on this one, and I never feel this way. It could be because there’s a new element in here that I’ve never written before, or the fact that this one is a little shorter than “Pride and Envy” and “Gluttony”. Either way, I hope you enjoy my lovelies <3 don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts

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It isn’t unusual for him to be this stubborn, nor is it for him to be so self-absorbed. But in a certain sense, you were attracted to it; and in that same sense, you hated yourself for it. How can a human live in a state of perfect balance while being in such disarray?

When you came back, you walked directly into a cloud of smoke; not exactly a rare occurrence, nor an unpleasant one. Dieter had basically hot-boxed the room, and you could care less. It’s not like it’s your house. The two of you were staying out of state for a movie he was shooting, this luxury hotel being your home until he was done with his work here. And since your job was remote, setting up shop with your laptop at cafes became your regular routine.

He’d glanced up briefly when you walked in, giving you a barely-there nod before his brown eyes returned to the magazine in his hands, likely browsing some gossipy cover. He was tired, you didn’t have to know him to know that. While lounging on the couch, he usually wore his signature pajamas, the exact outfit he slipped into every time he came back from set. Those loose, striped pj pants, that long, pukish-green robe, and a purple short-sleeved shirt. But he must not have done his laundry last night, because today, he’s wearing something different, and wearing much less.

“You were never good at these.” You tease him, sliding your tongue along the edge of the paper.

“Yeah…” He sighs, leaning further back. “Don’t know why, though.”

Dieter had always been good at rolling joints, he just liked to watch you do it. Or rather, he liked to watch your little fingers work, your tongue sliding along the paper shortly afterwards. You have a knack for it, he’ll give you that.

After changing into some comfier clothes, you sat on the ground between the coffee table and couch, leaning against the cushions. Dieter was lying sideways, wearing that fluffy, dark brown coat that makes him look like a giant teddy bear, and he wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. The edges of it hang off his sides, draping onto the couch. The only other thing he’s wearing besides his jewelry is an incredibly old pair of dark gray boxers, short enough for you to see his teeny elephant tattoo. Reaching out, you gently poke it, tracing it with your fingernail. And it makes him giggle.

“Quit it.” He says playfully, smiling. He’s so ticklish.

But you still sigh, aggravated with him. You’d been asking him for attention, any kind of sexual or romantic touch, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood today. Now, don’t get him wrong, Dieter was just as sex crazed as he always was; he could never get enough. If he had the energy, he’d fuck you on the couch right now. It’s the fact that he’s so incredibly tired from his day, so exhausted that he’s unwilling to even try. Dieter had so many talents and knowing how to please you was definitely one of them. But on his lazier days, he just didn’t feel like using them.

“Dieter, please.” You beg, whining beside him as you hand him the joint.

Happily, he takes it, immediately lifting it to his lips with the lighter already lit in his other hand. His lips connect once on the bud resting on his lower lip, inhaling deeply.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” It comes out as a small whimper, even though you don’t mean it to. But it makes him look over at you, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.

The joint held between Dieter’s lips continues smoking from the end, now setting down the lighter he’d just used. With a heavy sigh and a small grunt, he changes his positioning, now sitting up to address you.

“Of course I am.” He reassures you in that gravely baritone; oh, he really is so tired today, isn’t he?

Giving him your best innocent eyes, you then ask, “Then why don’t you want me?”

It’s the funniest thing, you being aroused by him right now. You came home to a completely baked, slightly buzzed, entirely soft Dieter. The man looked like he hadn’t showered since he’d been home nor washed his clothes in days. His hair is a mess, his outfit is ridiculous, and his surroundings couldn’t be messier. But to you, this was Dieter. Chaotic, lazy, disheveled Dieter. He’s your baby boy, your puppy dog, your big teddy bear. And even though he didn’t always take care of himself, he always made sure to take care of you.

“Oh kitten,” Dieter lifts a hand to run it over his face, releasing another heavy groan of a sigh. “I’m too tired. Don’t you know aallll I do in a day?”

He looks down to see you pouting, and you’re not faking it, either. “Sweetie,” He continues softly, “I had four fittings today, I’m exhausted! A star like me needs his time to relax, not do anything.” He waves a flimsy hand in the air, taking another puff of weed.

“You never do anything,” You mumble, glancing down while twiddling your fingers. “Not when you’re home. Not with me.”

“You know that isn’t true.” He furrows his brows at you, exhaling the smoke.

“Not lately.” You reply in that same mumbly tone.

“I fucked you last night, sweetheart.” Leaning down, he gently taps your chin with his thumb. “Remember when I made you drool?”

You do remember, you remember it all too well. Dieter had you from behind, pinned down beneath his weight with a fist in your hair. Your knuckles still ache from how hard you were clutching your shared bedspread, your throat still a little hoarse from how many times he’d slid down the length of it. It also didn’t help that you were moaning for two-plus hours.

“Baby,” Comes your sudden gasp of a whine. “I want it, I want it again.”

Sure, Dieter was sex-crazed. But you could be, too.

“Dammit kitten,” He chastises gently, “You can be such a needy little thing.”

Usually when he says you’re needy, it means he’s going to take advantage of it. But not this time.

Laying back to breathe in the smoke once again, he sighs. “Can’t be bothered; daddy’s tired.”

“Dee,” Comes your second whine of the night, that small word a reference to more than just his given name.

Your head is leaning against the couch cushion, resting just beside his outer knee. Reaching between his legs, you slide your hand along his inner thigh, smoothing your palm over the center of his boxers. Looking over his form, you eye his jewelry, his tattoos, the sight of them making your throat feel dry, a tingle shooting through your thighs. And he hums out a gravely sigh.

“You want it that bad, huh?” Dieter then asks, a lazy eyebrow raised. Your eyes meet his, nodding just a little for him.

The space beneath your palm rises just the slightest bit, hardening from your touch. While keeping his gaze, you smile. He’s so easy to excite.

“Well,” He sighs, shrugging while giving you a teasing grin. “If you want it so bad, you’ll have to do it yourself, kitten.”

In all honesty, Dieter isn’t sure what you’ll do with this proposal. Will you huff and walk away? Touch yourself in the bedroom until you’re satisfied? Or will you stay frustrated with him, waiting until late in the night or early tomorrow when he’ll likely want to fuck? Lucky for him though, he’s pleasantly surprised.

“You want me to do the work today, baby?” You then ask, giving his semi a little squeeze. “Hm?”

“Oh…” Mouth dropping open, he nods. For a second there he really thought he wasn’t getting any tonight. “Hell yeah I do.” With a smile on his face, he wiggles his hips on the cushions, eagerly awaiting your next move.

“Huh,” You tut, clicking your tongue while staring up at him. “You sure seem to have some energy now.”

“Well,” He shrugs, rolling his eyes with a grin. And then he shifts again, situating his legs on either side of you. You laugh.

“You don’t even know what I’m about to do!”

“I know what I want you to do.”

“Selfish.” You roll your eyes, only partly joking. But he’s right, you were heading in this direction.

“Yeah, but you like it.” He shrugs again, leaning even further back.

God dammit, how could one man be so lazy yet so cocky? Although, when Dieter wasn’t feeling lazy, he had the ability to make you absolutely dumb, just like he did last night. He fucked you until you couldn’t take it anymore, until you were a babbling, compliant mess beneath him. So, maybe you can return the favor today.

Reaching up, Dieter takes a hold of his joint between two thick fingers, watching you from above. His lips connect briefly, sucking in before blowing out a small cloud of smoke. He does it while settling further back against the couch, spreading his legs a little wider for you. Slowly, your hands trailing up his calves, his thighs, fingertips squeezing the meat of them gently. When your tongue pokes out, wetting your lower lip, Dieter’s head rolls to the side, a sluggish smile crawling across his face.

“Yeah…” Comes his heavy sigh, jaw dropping just slightly while he watches you move.

By now, he’s fully hardened beneath your touch. The thought of sex alone was enough to get him riled up. While slipping your fingers over the edge of his boxers, tugging them down ever so slightly, he leans over to put out the bud in the nearest ashtray to his side. While reaching for another joint, one he’d rolled quite loosely, he lifts his hips for you, allowing you to slide his boxers all the way down to his feet. And as you follow them down, you give him kisses, placing your lips on the softness of his thighs, that delicate little elephant tattoo, trailing down to his calves, and sighing while you do.

“Oh, baby…” It comes out as a quiet whine, looking up to watch his chest rise as he inhales deeply.

Seeing Dieter naked, or in this case nearly naked, was always so satisfying to you. It was like a breath of fresh air, seeing the man that you love like this, completely bare for you. And honestly, Dieter had reason to be cocky. He was uncut, and while that may not be to everyone’s taste, it genuinely made you drool. The length of him was average, but his girth certainly was not. And you loved how thick he was, every inch of him filling you entirely and dragging pleasurably against your walls.

“I love when you do this, baby.” He mutters, releasing a short grunt when you grip him gently.

“Yeah?” Glancing up to meet his eyes, you lay out your tongue on the underside of him.

Those sweet, brown eyes go soft upon seeing your beautiful face, your pretty mouth starting to go down on him. You slide your tongue up his shaft, watching him sigh while you look into his eyes. It’s done loosely, dragging his foreskin upward as you do it. But then you pull it back, looking down at his reddened head to flick your tongue across his slit.

“Fuck me,” He moans, joint hanging on his bottom lip.

The curve of Dieter’s belly rises and falls, his hazy mind already swimming with bliss. He watches you lean up onto your knees, angling your head downward and allowing a trail of spit to fall onto his tip. With a smile on your face you pull his foreskin back, watching your saliva roll down his shaft. It’s not long after that that you take him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around his crimson head.

“Oh,” He chokes, feeling your tongue slide over his delicate skin.

Whenever you went down on Dieter, you made sure to go slow. To say the least, the man could cum quick. And you weren’t sure if he’d be up for round two tonight, so you make sure to take your time.

Amidst his hazy state, Dieter’s head lolls to the side, eyes falling on the mirror not too far from him. The hotel you’re staying in is decorated lavishly, almost gaudy in appearance. And the six-foot mirror facing him is no different. While gazing into it, he smirks, watching as you go down on him. Jesus Christ, he loves this. He can see your pretty frame resting on your knees for him, nestled between his spread legs. And while watching your reflection, he pets at your hair, brushing some of it aside. You really were willing to do anything for him; and he doesn’t even need to work for it.

Closing your eyes as you begin to work, you keep your fingers circled around his base, sliding him further and further into your mouth. Before allowing him into your throat you move up, tonguing his tip before swallowing him again. And while he’d sat up entirely straight at first, he now allows himself to relax, resting back against the couch and letting his head fall back. His dominant hand allows him to smoke, the other one landing on the top of your head. And although he’s too tired to put any real effort into this moment, when you reach his base, he still holds your head down so you can choke on him.

This is when you gag, your movements graceful until now. Drool begins to drip from your mouth, wetting the longer hairs scattering his pelvis. He never kept himself trimmed, and for some reason, you kind of like it.

“That’s it, kitten.” He grumbles, lifting his head to look down at you. “Such a messy girl for me.”

Dieter’s mouth drops open just a little bit, the joint hanging on his lips when you gag again. But you stay down for him, you always do. And when he finally allows you to move you shoot backward, gasping for air. All he does is smile, taking in another puff of smoke. He inhales sharply, almost a hiss, before blowing the small cloud out of the side of his mouth.

“You’re always so good at it.” Then he gives you a single nod. “Do it again, will you, kitten?”

More than eager to comply, you go down again, taking him in one swallow and feeling the couch rock as his head thumps back against the top of it. He groans heavily, leaving the joint on his lips and bringing his other hand down to your head. Those talented fingers intertwine with your hair, scratching your scalp gently. And when you moan around him he pulses against your tongue, his hips shuttering ever so slightly.

In the back of your mind, you’re thinking about what you can do for him, what will feel best, what he’ll enjoy most. Oftentimes, you thought about his other relationships, the ones before you. You considered what they brought to him, sexually and otherwise. It was like a challenge to you, and so far, you could do everything they did and more. And according to Dieter, you did it better than them, too. But there’s one thing you haven’t done that is currently popping into your mind…

From the angle you’re at, you can see him perfectly, his entire body. One thing Dieter certainly did not have was shame. Since the first night you slept together, he was all in. He spread his legs wide when you first went down on him, and this time is no different. Only now, you can see his sex entirely, his full length laying on his belly when you released him, his scrotum resting beneath the thickness of him… and that forbidden little space you’ve yet to befriend. Maybe he’d enjoy that.

“Uh-huh,” He nods, the sound coming from his open mouth. He’s watching you move up and down, slowly twisting your hand beneath your mouth.

Your tongue wiggles on the underside of him as you continue to bob up and down, moaning when you can and breathing through your nose. But the size of him sometimes made even that difficult. Dieter likes to see you struggle to take him though, his chest sighing out heavy breaths while you drool around him, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

“No, no,” He protests, urging you back down.

“Sh…” You’ve lifted yourself from him, giving another ounce of spit before wrapping your entire fist around him.

With excitement tingling in your belly, you lower yourself just a bit. You wonder how this will go. Will he like it? Will you? He’s talked about past partners doing it before, but never once did it cross over to you. And on the opposite end of this, Dieter’s done it to you, and you want to make him feel just as good.

So you don’t give him too big of a surprise, you start out gentle, slowly making your way down. Your lips fall to his balls, licking and mouthing at them while he moans. And while you’re doing this, you jerk him off with firm, languid tugs. Inch by little inch, you creep down, your tongue sliding lower and lower while you continue to lick him. And above you, Dieter barely notices. All he’s registering is the euphoria flowing effortlessly through his brain.

“Hm…” The hum you exude shivers directly through his center, the muscles in his thighs tensing from it. You notice this, lifting your free hand to massage the sweet meat of his upper legs, feeling him relax even further under your touch.

Landing on the relatively smooth space between his scrotum and cheeks, you give him time to adjust, that is, if he’s even noticing. Moving your hand up to his tip, you give it a gentle squeeze, earning an unruly, erotic cry from him. He loves to be teased. And it’s in this exact moment that you make your first swipe, your tongue sliding along the tighter muscles you’ve yet to explore.

“Uh-ugh,” Comes his punched out gasp, eyes shooting open to look down at you.

At first, his reaction makes you nervous, an intense heat washing your entire body with anxiety. But you don’t stop, you just keep yourself there, meeting his gaze. He’s panting now, but he doesn’t say anything. So, experimentally, you do it again.

“Oh my god.” He babbles loosely from his mouth, fingers taking hold of the blunt he’d been smoking. He lets his forearm land on the armrest of the couch, letting the bud simmer between his fore and middle fingers.

Again, another swipe, deeper this time. Your hand is still working him, and this is when you get a definitive answer on whether or not he’s enjoying this surprise. His head falls back again, a guttural groan released from his throat. Almost of their own volition, his legs spread even wider, hips lifting up a little higher.

Wow, he really does want this.

“Y-Yeah…” Dieter stutters out a sigh, mouth falling agape while his head continues to lay back.

“Mm,” Comes your enticed moan, excited now that you’ve been given full permission to do this.

When Dieter moved his legs wider for you, it allowed you to see more of him, too. His cheeks separated that much more, allowing you to wiggle in even closer to the space between his legs. This time, you go in slowly, sliding your tongue up the entirety of his hole. You can feel his tight muscles twitch beneath you, your free hand now dropping to his right cheek. Grabbing him, you open him even wider, feeling his cock throb in your hand.

“W-What,” Dieter lifts his head, confused when you pull away. “What’re you doing?”

Reaching behind your back, you find the coffee table, pulling it closer to the couch. And then you look up at him, sliding both hands over his thighs.

“Put your feet on the coffee table, baby.” All he can do is stare dumbly at you. “Let me lick you.”

“Fuck me…”

As if he’s too high to even move, you help him, leaning down to lift one foot onto the small table while he moves the other. Now, he’s got his thighs on either side of your head, both of his hands falling to the couch cushions as he searches for something to grab. He doesn’t let go of his joint, though, in fact, when you return to your work, he takes another breath.

Looking back into the large mirror behind you, he grins breathlessly, watching you perform this new act for him. It’s so fucking sexy, watching you do this to him. The sight of it makes his muscles clench, your groan shivering through his hips.

“Baby… yeah…” He moans deeply from above, pinching his eyes shut when you begin to lick him deep. “Just like that, oh yeah… that’s so good…”

He’s twitching in your hand and pulsing against your tongue, the sensations almost too much for him to handle. And still he sits back, watching you do everything for him. The hand you’re not using to jerk him off wraps around his thigh, keeping him close, and he moans when you drag your nails across his sensitive skin. Every now and then your nose nudges his balls and it makes his head fucking spin. He can’t believe you’re doing this, he can’t believe you’re doing this for him.

“B-Baby,” You continue to lick him, even through his passionate whines. His stomach and legs flex around you, his toes curling, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “That, that feels so good, you don’t even know…”

Dieter’s praise made you the happiest woman in the world. He was so much more experienced than you, so to know that even through the multitude of men and women he’s slept with, that he wants you… it was a feeling you couldn't even fathom until he gave it to you.

His hips push up, shoving his fluttering hole closer to you, wanting you to have the best access to him, all of him. And this is so beyond sexy to you, to hear him fall into a whiny, moaning mess from you licking his little hole while jerking him off. You never expected it to be so thrilling for you, too, the entirety of your being fizzling with excitement and adrenaline.

While you’re tonguing his hole, prodding gently into the taut little ring, he looks up. He’s breathless when he speaks, his chest fucking heaving. “You look so good like this…” His voice is hoarse, and he clears it, swallowing briefly. “So pretty like this, kitten.”

Your open-mouthed moan makes him whine, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip when he feels your own circle his asshole. And you grin at this, giving a small giggle from beneath him.

“Still feeling too lazy for this, Dee?” You’re mumbling over his slicked-up skin, eyes flickering up to meet his.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” He immediately grits out, shaking his head. “Keep going, please keep going.”

Closing your eyes once again, you let yourself dive in, moving your tongue incessantly against him. It’s grown sloppy, your motions erratic and almost frenzied. And he’s enjoying every fucking minute of it. When you let go of him, intending to bring your hand down to fondle his balls, he reaches out for you.

“No,” He begs, bringing your hand back up to him. “Keep your hand there.”

But then he doesn’t leave. He wraps his own hand around yours, the both of you jerking him off while he now thrusts up into your hold. It makes you gasp, seeing him this turned on by what you’re doing to him. Helplessly, he ruts up into your hand, keeping his grip on yours tight so the pressure feels just right for him.

“Yes, yes!” He nearly wails, and before you can say anything, before you can pull away and make him wait, he cums.

It shoots all over his belly, some spouting all the way up to his chest. It comes out in gooey spurts, hot and sticky as it litters his skin. You moan while watching him, his head falling back while his eyebrows furrow, eyes pinching shut while his mouth tries desperately to hold onto the joint he’d been smoking. But he wants to open his mouth fully, wants to moan out wantonly. And while you’re enjoying the show of Dieter making a mess of himself, you continue tonguing him, rolling the wet muscle along the rim of his hole over and over again. It’s shocking, how much he cums, the amount of it sliding down his sides just a bit. That’s a shame, you wanted it in your mouth.

“Oh my god,” He huffs out, chest heaving with desperate attempts to try and catch his breath. “Holy fuck.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dieter nods breathlessly, shaking his head quickly in response. He closes his eyes, repeating himself before his dry lips meet with a swallow. And you can see him start to relax. He reaches to the side, grabbing the blunt he’d left in the tray as he returns to lay on his back along the couch.

“Dieter,” Your whine makes his eyes snap open, head turning to the side. “I want more.” Your chest is heaving, you can’t help but beg. You do want more, you want more of those whines, more of those grunts, more his beautifully erotic expressions.

“Ride me,” He blurts out. “Fuck, ride me.”

Immediately, you rise to your feet, shimmying out of the shorts you’d pulled on when you came home. You slide your panties off alongside them, now climbing on top of him. There’s a dirty shirt laying on the ground that you quickly grab, using it to wipe off his tummy.

“You miss me? Huh?”

You toss the shirt to the floor, placing your hands on his chest to lean forward.

“Yes baby, I don’t ever get enough of you. You’re always gone, Dee, I miss you.”

“Then show me,” He swallows again, steadying his breaths. “Show me how much you miss me, kitten. Maybe it’ll make me stay home for you.”

He’s still hard beneath you, feeling the delicate skin of your lips rest on top of his shaft. Again, he keeps the joint between his lips, both hands reaching to squeeze your hips. And when he does, you lift yourself, keeping your eyes on his beautiful face while you position him. Dieter’s eyes are trained elsewhere, though, he’s gawking at the space where the two of you will connect.

“Dee…” It’s an exasperated sigh, huffed out as you sink down. He stretches you wide, painfully so, your walls throbbing around him from the intrusion only when he’s halfway inside.

He feels it, of course he does. “Fuuuck…” he groans, mouth hanging open.

The small wiggle you give your hips when you’re entirely seated on him makes him grin. He releases a short and quiet giggle, one hand rising to trail up your torso.

“Take off your shirt.” He gently orders, eyes fixated on your covered chest. “Let me see your tits.”

You do as he says while forming a smile on your face. “Who’s needy now?”

Dieter laughs, a cocky half-smirk on his face. “You know you love me.”

As soon as it's off, those two large hands move to paw at your chest, cupping you gently before digging his fingers in. He holds them while you start to move, swaying your hips.

“Oh, kitten,” He sighs, releasing your breasts. His dominant hand returns to his lips, taking a puff before removing the blunt. The other falls to his stomach, lazily brushing the pads of his fingertips across one of his nipples. “You really needed it today, huh?”

“Mhm,” Nodding, you whine, too, closing your eyes as you move. “I need you, I need you, baby.”

“I’m here, kitten.” He coos to you, inhaling another deep breath of smoke. “I’m here.”

Looking down, you’re met with the beautiful sight of the incredibly chaotic man you’ve chosen to love. He looks so scruffy right now, his hair a big mess and his cheeks littered with short, unruly strands. He looks so good below you, his curvy body moving slightly every time you rut yourself against him.

You’re going slow, enjoying every moment of it, enjoying the stretch and your gentle sighs. When your head dips back, your lips parting to release a moan, Dieter reaches up to lazily grab your left breast, jiggling it in his hand as he grins.

“Perfect,” He mumbles over the blunt he’s holding between his lips, still teasing his nipples.

He rocks back and forth with every one of your gentle thrusts, and he’s so tired that all he can do is smile; he can’t even thrust. Besides, he likes seeing you take the reins like this. He’s surprised by how much you’re willing to do for him.

“Oh, fuck.” Out of seemingly nowhere, you change your pace, slapping your ass down onto his groin. He grunts out, eyebrows furrowing as you bring him a much quicker dose of bliss.

“Dieter…” You moan, fingernails digging into his chest.

You’re taking what you want from him, the languid pace you once created floating away like dust in the wind. You’ve wanted to fuck this lazy bastard all day, and you’re going to do it your way. And Dieter couldn’t love it any more than he currently does, he feels like a fucking god right now. Just sitting back, watching this beautiful woman grind on top of him while he gets high.

He’s giving you little grunts and moans, his mouth hanging open as he breathes heavily. And he just stares at you, eyes flickering back and forth from your face to your tits to your gorgeous cunt as it takes him. His eyebrows furrow in disbelief, finding himself feeling lucky. You treat him so well. You always come home with a smile on your face, never forgetting to give him a kiss and a hug. Every day, you ask about the set, how filming is going, inquiring about how he feels about the script. If you’re not taking care of ordering the food, you’re preparing it, if you’re not making arrangements for your suite to be cleaned, you’re doing it. And by far the most impressive thing you do, is you manage to love him; even through all his shit, through his attitude and addictions. He should really learn to appreciate you more.

“Baby,” You whimper for him, knowing how much he likes it. Biting down on your lower lip, you wiggle down onto him, feeling him pulse inside.

“Fuck, you look so good like this.” He says with a breath of amazement. “I love when you’re on top of me.”

“Yeah? Even when you’re too tired to have me?”

“I might be tired, but I’m glad you aren’t.” He grins, that lazy, cocky smirk never ceasing to stir arousal within you.

“Hm…” It’s a hum, an enticed one. “You like it, daddy? You like when I do this to you?”

“Oh kitten, you know I do. You’re so perfect, doing this for me…”

Releasing a contented sigh, your head tilts back, and he wishes he could kiss your throat. But there’s no way in hell he can lean up that far right now. Not when he’s high and getting fucked out of his mind.

Dieter’s eyes fall to the area behind you, zoning in on the reflection of your ass bouncing down against him. You’re such a sexy little thing, your entire body moving over his, always doing your best to please him. Your skin looks so smooth, is so smooth, the dips and curves of your physique was something that caught his eye immediately. Honestly, he can’t help but look at himself, too. Every time you lift yourself, he can see his cock slide almost all the way out of you before you’re plummeting down onto him again, his scrotum bouncing slightly from your forceful movements. The thick meat of his thighs jiggle beneath your own, your hips relentless in their search for his high.

Eyes rolling back, they finally close, a low and guttural moan coming from his throat. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Again?” You couldn’t be happier to hear him say this. You love it when he cums more than once.

“Again.” Dieter answers you, breath continuing to leave him. His eyes are still closed, his head nodding sluggishly. “Make me cum, please kitten. Please make me cum.”

“Mm… where are you gonna cum, baby? Inside me?”

“No,” You knew he’d answer this way. “Gonna pull out.”

There was a very specific way Dieter went about cumming when you rode him. It’s not that he didn’t love cumming inside you, he definitely did. Oftentimes, he’d lick it out of you. But when you rode him, he liked to pull out and jerk himself off against your ass. It oozes out of him, spilling over his hand. And right after he’d bring it to his lips so he could taste it.

“Oh,” He whines, his neck straining and veins protruding. “Fu-uck.”

Smiling down at him, you reach around, your dominant hand finding his scrotum. You cup him gently, fingers fondling the delicate skin as he nears his high. This is when he ruts up into you, the only time he’d done so tonight. His hips move of their own volition, punching up inside your core before his hands fly to wrap around your back, hauling you down to his chest. You squeal quietly as he does it, hands wrapping around his neck. You duck your face down to his shoulder, fingernails and teeth scraping along his throat. And while you’re busy doing this, he reaches down, pushing you further up on his chest so he can pull out of you. Forcefully, his fingers wrap around his shaft, tugging his cock harshly beneath your ass. Every time his fist moves up his knuckles graze the plumpness of your backside, helping to height his orgasm.

The sticky-whiteness of it washes your skin, wet globs littering your ass and dripping down onto his hand. Since this is the second time he’s cum, there isn’t as much as the first time, but it doesn’t matter, not to either of you. He groans harshly when he feels your pretty lips kissing his tawny skin, your wondrous tongue poking out to lay over his neck. By the way you’re nipping at him, he knows hair and makeup will have to cover the hickeys up in the morning. And you like knowing that.

“Fuck, fuck,” His hand moves frantically, milking himself of every drop he can give.

Graceful fingertips pet over the hair scattering those squeezable cheeks, your nose running along the curve of his jaw. His eyes are pinched shut, lips parted as he revels in this. You lift your face just enough to give his cheek a kiss, smiling and humming against him. With his breaths picking up he removes his hand, lifting it to his face. He looks at the whiteness of himself coating every single knuckle, groaning quietly. Dieter then brings his knuckles closer, his tongue poking out to lick it off of his skin.

“You love doing that, huh baby?” You grin against him, lightly scratching his scruff.

He doesn’t answer you, he just brings his fingers to your lips. Looking to the side, he watches you take them in, tasting not only the remnants of his orgasm but his spit, too. Slack-jawed and staring, he can’t take his eyes off you. When he takes his fingers out of your mouth you reach up to keep him close, sliding your tongue through the mess of him.

“I love you,” Comes his airy yet guttural admission. “I fucking love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby.” You’re happy to hear him say it after missing him all day.

“I’m sorry,” He’s still breathing heavily, trying to calm his breaths. “I don't,” Then he swallows, his clean hand rising to hold the back of your head when you snuggle against him. “I don’t treat you like I should.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows. “You take care of me.”

“More like you take care of me.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that.” You admit with a laugh. “But I know you love me, Dee.”

“I really hope you do.” Dieter sighs below you, his body firm, steady. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You’re my person, baby.”

Lifting your head, you stare down at him. “Baby, why are you so worried?”

“I just don’t want to lose you,” Dieter clears his throat, those warm brown eyes looking up sweetly at you. “And I know I will if I act like an ass.”

“Well, don’t be an ass.” Shrugging, you playfully grin. “And you won’t lose me.”

But Dieter doesn’t smile, he isn’t joking.

“I know you get tired baby, and you do deserve to relax. You work hard.” Well, as hard as he can on the set of Cliff Beasts Seven. Honestly, the better description would be he has hard days, long days. Dieter wasn’t necessarily putting his best foot forward to uphold his career. But he didn’t really have to. He did what he wanted, and honestly, people loved him for it.

“You don’t get sick of me?” He’s feeling insecure about this. He knows he can be a lot.

“Sure I do, sometimes I get really aggravated with you.” Honesty was always important between the two of you. “But I don’t ever stop loving you baby, and that’s what matters most to me.”

For a moment, Dieter just looks at you. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

“Yeah? Is that a promise?”

“A big fucking promise.” He nods, pulling you down to kiss you. And you smile into it, happy to be in the relationship that you’re in. You know you have something so many people want, not only a celebrity but a man who’s willing to love you through anything. And Dieter’s more than aware of how lucky he is to have you. Sexy, funny, incredible you.

When you climb off of him, retrieving your shirt and shorts, you get a rag so he can clean up. You bring him a clean pair of boxers and a hoodie of his that you’d found in your shared room, his brown fuzzy jacket now ruined. But he can get it dry cleaned no problem.

“What do you feel like ordering tonight?” You ask, phone in hand.

“Pizza?”

“We had pizza last night.”

“Yeah,” He widens his eyes, rolling them. “Because it’s good.”

Shaking your head with a cheesy grin on your face, you order your boyfriend what he wants. These were your usual nights, ordering in, cuddling, and turning on a movie. Oftentimes, they were documentaries. Dieter didn’t like movies that much, he sees enough actors on the daily. He knows most of them, too. They’re colleagues to him, not interesting celebrities he looks up to. Tonight, he picks out a documentary about the Amazon, grinning like a little kid when the koalas come on.

“You want one.”

“Sure,” You let him light the blunt for you, leaning on him while tugging a blanket over the two of you.

“You wanna do LSD?” He then asks, glancing down at you. “I got some new ones.”

“You know, for one night I’d like to not trip balls.”

“Yeah okay, fine.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, and it makes you grin. Dieter slouches beside you, leaning on your body and wrapping both arms around you.

“What time do you need to be on set tomorrow?”

He groans, running a hand over his face. “Eight fucking am.”

“Damn,” He responds with a disgruntled I know.

Lucky for the two of you, tomorrow is a Friday, and thank fuck he has the weekend off. Maybe he’ll take you out to dinner, maybe even go to a club or two. Those nights are always fun with him. Honestly though, every night spent with Dieter was a fucking blast. If you stayed in, you’d both blare music till the sun comes up, drinking the night away while you sing happily. Those are the nights you’d usually do LSD. Those are also the nights he tells you about his craziest sex fantasies. But if you went out you got the chance to be spotted by the paparazzi, something you honestly both love. What can you say? You’re attention whores.

“Well, you wanna shower together before bed? I can make you all soapy…” You run a hand down his belly, now full of pizza and pop. “Get you nice and tired so you can sleep like a baby.”

“I’m already exhausted, but you know I like a challenge.”

In his own head, he’s already planning out the weekend he’s going to give you. He’s considering booking a short vacation, take some time off and get a breather from set. Maybe he’ll bring you to Venice for a few days, make you cum in as many Italian cities as he can. He knows you’d like that.

#Dieter Bravo #Baby #My soft teddy bear #I love you so much #Ugh #Dieter Bravo x you #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x female reader #Dieter Bravo smut #Dieter Bravo fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #The Bubble #Kinktober #Kinktober 2022 #Sintober #Sintober 2022

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strawglicks · 5 months

Note

Sorry for the ramble in your inbox incoming- I'm a really huge fan of your analysis type posts like the ones about Cathal and recently Flint ;A; So I hope its ok to maybe throw in my own 2 cents about Cogs/their society- (Sorry this gets rambly I thought about this last night and writing this like an hour after waking up lol)

I think what alot of people kind of (I wouldnt say ignore- more of:) don't really get is that I dont believe characters like Cathal or Flint have bad tendencies because they really want to in a way, (I kind of worded that poorly but point is) but because their society rewards and encourages that type of behavior. I think you said something kind of similar on Cathals post- But especially for Flint, whose a Bossbot (Who are literally the embodiment of a toxic workplace and elitism. I believe a old snippet from the TTO magazines says "They have no real skills of their own, just the ability to push down others and stay on top!" Or something to that nature.) he has to be demanding and imposing. There is no benefit to him in being kind. (Like looking at Misty for example) And don't get me wrong I don't believe that if Flint and Cathal were removed from Cog society they'd be better/objectively nicer (Like Flint not being condescending to Toons and Cathal not making people do things for him and being encouraged to try) But I do wonder how much of it is pressure, or how much of it is egged on and rewarded. Atleast in the aspects it relates to how they treat others.

(..And also I wonder what happens to Cogs that don't get jobs and are seen as ..not functioning. Since Graham was freaking the hell out in "Meeting Of Two Minds" over the possibility of not getting the job. I have a whole thing about this actually in my oc lore but thats another thing entirely I'll write about someday I swear)

Also I gasped when I saw the doodle of Graham in the MSI shirt finally a MSI listener Graham truther. I think he'd like the album "How I Learned To" and of course "You'll Rebel To Anything". I associate him mainly with the songs "Lights Out", "On It", and "You're No Fun Anymore" :p (This has been my favorite band since I was like 13 and now I get to spill all my opinions xD) I always imagined him doing the guitar backbend their bassist does! And my final hc is that Flint plays bass and Graham plays the main guitar. I think it fits them .. some people overlook bass when its actually pretty hard to learn from what I hear and vital to the song. (Like heres Feel Good Inc w/o the bass.. feels wrong x_x)

Anyways thanks for reading ;A; take care and happy new year!

RAHHHH EATING THIS UP YUM YUM YUM YES YES YOU GET IT

THe biggest issue with Cogs Inc is that it REWARDS and ENCOURAGES these poor behaviors, worsening these characters as people. ESPECIALLY cathal considering the position of power they’re in. I’m sure it applies to a ton of other cogs too, but unfortunately I haven’t gotten to them yet bc I’m not as insane abt them . LMAO

And yeah since cogs are literally built for work, it’s a wonder what happens to those who can’t find a job as easily as others. Hoping that gets built on since it’s clear in MOTM that these cogs have to actually apply and go to interviews and probably face some trial and error to land a job, just like people IRL.

ALSO. THE BAND HCS. I love it and you’re SOOOO RIGHT about the backbend that is so grahamcore. And yes I’m pretty sure Flint does play bass, I think his creator mailman said smth abt that on their blog . AND IM SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT UP FEEL GOOD INC bc i did draw flint in a demon days shirt in that same animatic . And ive def drawn them in the same shirt a couple times in the past too . I’ve always imagined him to be a Gorillaz fan, maybe graham too

Anyway ty for these thoughts im eating them up and leaving no crumbs . I love when ppl come to ramble in my inbox bc discussing this stuff IS SO FUN and a good outlet for me esp when i might be having art burnout rn .

#toontown #flint bonpyre #graham payser #cathal bravecog #asks

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inlocusmads · 3 months

Note

A classic prompt- there's only one bed (also found a post w some possible scenarios):

https://www.tumblr.com/scealaiscoite/739599700057096192/reasons-for-there-to-be-only-one-bed-%CB%8F%CB%8B?source=share

*shakes fists at the sun* curse you writer's block

Aah thank you so much! This took a While lmao

Title: I don't think a million times is enough

Trystan and Nora (crimes of passion)

Trope: one bed, 1.5k words. Let's goooooo

Also not tagging people because unpolished drabble lmao. Slight angst.

“Trystan.” Nora called out from near the front desk.

“Yeah?”

“Apparently erm, they’re out of rooms with double beds.”

“Right. What is the problem?”

“Double beds.”

“Once again, what seems to be the problem?” he slipped his hands into his pocket, rocking from heel to toe.“We are civilised adults, clearly this is not a problem for me. Is it for you?”

“Oh no - no I just was making sure-- right, right. Okay-” she turned to the concierge who gave her the key. “Thanks. 302. Supposed to have a good view.”

It did not.

The window, when opened, gave them a view of a bricked wall. The only thing salvageable about their room is the floor in which it was located. It didn’t have a lot of movements, plenty of paintings to vet through to find the one that matched Kimia’s description and the photo she sent of her great-grandfather’s unrestored picture. It wasn’t going to take them time to find it, rather go through all those floors, down cascading hallways and dining halls to locate it. And perhaps see who it was attributed to, or be able to ask the hotel manager, staff, anyone who knew anything about it for the same. Specificity was important, especially if they were going to be snobs about it.

At least there was a complimentary bowl of granola bars.

“Okay so how does this work?”

“Really?” Trystan scoffed. “As if we haven’t shared anything before.”

“No, but y’know it’s a small bed. Account for sleeping preferences, ec ceteras-- are we going to sleep now?”

“I think it would do us some good if we get up early before everyone else to have a thorough--”

“Hold up--” Nora shushed him. She climbed on the bed, looking at the lightbulb. She unscrewed the top off and only when satisfied, did she get off the bed. She checked the phone, the calendar, the bowl of granola, magazines on the table, the stack of shampoos in the bathroom.

“Done?”

“Clean. Apparently Luke’s app isn’t working here. I tried it on the door key.”

“Could be in the paintings.” Trystan shrugged. “In their eyes, following you every watchful moment.”

“Must you ruin the mood?”

“What are you planning to really do with me, Detective?”

Nora ignored him. “You take two pillows, I take two. That one, we’ll just put it on the couch or something.”

“I think it is more -- ‘proper’ if we put it up as an obstructing wall. No boundaries shall be crossed tonight, inclusive of the obvious euphemism.”

“Right, and I thought you didn’t need to prefix every thought of yours with ‘obviously’ because of course, it is plain as day.”

“That is not the winning comeback you think it is, by the way.”

“Are we going to sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

They removed their coats, belts, watches and rings in Trystan’s case and switched off the lamps. The two of them were exhausted, but not quite enough to sleep. Trystan’s eyes were studying the ceiling as if he was preparing himself to examine forgeries the next day and Nora had her focus on the lamp, composed yet nervous about meeting Inam’s deadline for the discovery and updating Kimia.

It was a new turf to assist in forgery cases, but best to get it done as soon as possible. She laid out a plan for herself for tomorrow - a particular route to take to vet through all paintings without suspicion and figure out people to talk to; honest people who’d tell her about how they came to the hotel. If not, she would have to take as many pictures as she could in precise angles and give it to Ruby to run a scan as efficiently as she can. Or figure out a way to get the painting.

“I wonder if we had met any sooner.”

“Go to sleep, Trystan.” she forced her eyes shut.

“No, but think about it. Would you have had a different opinion of me had we met any sooner?”

“I knew you from a Wikipedia article.”

“Would we have still been friends? People who know each other?”

“I dunno. Thing about answers is that -- you get to know them when you go to sleep. Yeah. Fun uh, fact. Your mind's a lot clearer.” Nora sighed. Knowing there was no escape, she continued. “I dunno, I think I'm fine being just us-- anything. Whatever you want it to be.”

“That’s just it. I am scared of that -- thing -- that it - drifting us apart.”

“Well it isn't going to happen anytime soon.” Nora gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “You're heading the case tomorrow. You're not getting out that easy.”

“Yes yes-” he chuckled. “But there is this -- doubt that is plaguing me that -- one day something might happen and we would not have the reason to be in the other's company. You know how long I have had this doubt?”

“The uh, stabbing thing?”

“I think it was that time when you showed me empathy.”

“Really? You're almost as pathetic as me.” Nora said. “I'll do anything for someone when they're nice to me.”

“You are definitely not kidding about that. Look at you, ploughing through people like a comical -- bank robber.”

“When did I show you empathy?” Nora asked out of curiosity.

“I think it was that time when you said - ‘No, there is no ‘we’. This is a homicide case. There is very little we can do’, so on and so forth.”

“That's empathy to you?”

“I find it greatly empathising if someone can just tell me the truth.”

“That was -- Sonja’s -- wait, we met that day. Heck, that hour.”

A pause.

“Yes.”

“You mean to say--”

“Yes.”

“But then we were-”

“Yes. Yes.”

“I didn't even complete my question.”

“I know what you plan on asking and yes to all of them.” Trystan said, before laughing a little. “Argh. Look at me. Being so pretentious about precognition. I've turned into you! Oh the horror of being such a -- snob about knowing what to say -- a snob in general- yikes.”

“I didn't --” Nora exhaled sharply. “I didn't know it meant so much to you. I mean, it's a -- it's a thing in a place and a thing with uh, other things. Why are we talking about this? I mean it's a thoroughly discussed topic.”

“I do not want us to drift apart.”

“I think you've told me that a million times.”

“But -- it isn't just that, is it? It isn't a million and oneth time because every single time it is a little different. I do not want us to drift apart because I will miss this. I do not want us to drift apart because I like what we have done here. Every time it means something different. Something I would miss. I think the process would not happen immediately, rather gradually.”

“How do you mean?”

“Quite simple. One day, we might start -- talking less and less. A common disagreement. One day, I might be called back home again. Or something else. A small change. You might want to move on. Become something else. How many years are you going to do this? And -- it'd be -- this distant memory. Pulled apart for whatever reasons. And just as gradually as I forgot most of my language with holes within, I -- we will not be the same. It's a natural progression. We're happy but -- I am constantly thinking about what might happen that day. That doubt. I do not require reassurance. I do not require anything. I just --”

“Right.”

“People grow apart, yes I get it. The differences are more susceptible to give us a reason to drift away. Maybe I am wrong. What about you?”

“I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the same way but -- you have my back. I have yours. If you're going to fall down, God forbid I'm pulling you back up on your feet. Or lowering a rope. Whatever.” Nora said. “Point is, I can't think of a reason why we might just -- drift apart out of the blue because despite our differences, we care. And this isn't reassurance or anything.”

“Yes.”

“You're welcome to have doubts, I don't -- really mind. But this is just what I think.”

Trystan took a deep breath. “What's the point of loving people, loving things when there seems to always be an end to it?”

“I thought so once but -- learned how to show empathy better. Makes you want to cherish things because you care a lot. Something like that. Like listening to the same song. You know it is going to end the same way but that doesn't rob what made it special.” - she took a pause to yawn.

Trystan disagreed. “I do not think I can apply that logic. I loved the throne. I loved being a king once. It was my entire life. But -- I gave it up within the blink of an eye because I changed. Now I don't know how long it would take for my mind to betray itself and -- experience a change of heart. If I ever do, perhaps you can tell me not to. Nora?”

He turned around to find her asleep.

“I shouldn't have.” he cursed himself, pulling the pillow closer to his chest.

***

#w:inlocusmads #trystan x nora #crimes of passion #my drabbles

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artemismoorea03 · 1 year

Text

Building Trust (Chirp AU)

MY TURN TO TALK HI GUUUUYYSSS aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HOLY SHIT MY INBOX HAS BEEN EXPLODING LATELTY W H A T . HOW DID WHATAMSDREP IJTRYTHMKL,JHGFDS ONE IM SUPER HONORED TO BE WORKING WITH ARTEMIS ON THIS FIC MAN I JUST. . .. . Y E AH THIER SO COOL EVERYONE.

TWO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE COMMENTS AND KUDOS AND STUFF. IF YOU LIKE THISS STUFF YOU SHOULD CHECK OUT OUR SOLO FIC SERIES TANGLED STAR AND THE MONKIES DESERVE BETTER .

Anyways thank you guys so much for all the love we both really appreciate it and love reading ur comments. Im sitting here at 2am writing this and i already know by the time i wake up yall are gonna be crowding up my inbox.

Again thank you all so much for the appreciation. Cant wait to share all artemis and i have planned :D Grabs Macaque and fucking squishes him WHO WANTS BLORBO CONTENT?!?!??!

Anyways lmao enjoy the chapter !!!

MK wasn’t sure what had happened that day with Macaque and Wukong but what he did know was that it was only the beginning of a lot of changes. Both personally and in his day-to-day life. For starters, he began to chirp at everything almost instinctively.

Stub his toe? Chirp.

Drop something on his foot? Chirp.

Get frustrated or overwhelmed? Chirp.

It got so frequent and often that the other people in his life even began to take notice and question it. Pigsy asked about it and was quick to understand that it was another ‘monkey thing’. Tang thought it was a new type of stim that he was adjusting too and said, ‘it probably feels nice and calming to let out all those frustrations and anxieties so you might be chirping more and more as a buildup of stress’ which made MK feel a bit better about chirping as much, but he still worried about the effect it could have on Macaque and Wukong if they were around.

Speaking of which, both of them were beginning to make appearances around the restaurant more and more since that day. Macaque was quick to check in on him first thing in the morning before MK even properly left his apartment, his shadow figure was standing in the hall of the restaurant. He never stepped out of his shadow, only asking if he was alright, how he was feeling, and checking to make sure his head wasn’t giving him any issues. Macaque would then vanish just as quickly as he showed up just for Wukong to show up a short time later asking the same questions.

Though Wukong had the added question of “ Any sign of that rat Macaque? ”

Something MK quickly decided to lie to his mentor about. He didn’t know what happened that day but did know that he hadn’t really seen his mentor looking that vicious before. He didn’t know if Wukong could tell he was lying but if he did notice he never pointed it out.

This continued for about a week, getting visits from Macaque and Wukong every other day, though there was once where Macaque visited twice in a row just so he and Wukong started visiting on different days to avoid seeing one another. But each time something similar began to happen until a new pattern formed.

Macaque would stay in the shadows (more so under MK’s bed once he invited the demon into his apartment) and talked to him from under there while avoiding too much light as he talked to MK or just listened to MK ramble. He also occasionally slipped pieces of paper out of the bed that were recipes, notes and even a cut out ad from a magazine.

“What’s this for?” MK asked, looking at the ad. “ Hair-and-fur shampoo? That’s a thing?”

“Yep. It’s how Wukong keeps his hair all ‘ fabulous ’ or whatever.” He said sarcastically. “If the chirping has any implications of anything, bud, you might be changing. I’m not sure how or why, but if you are starting to change I’d look into getting some of that. Normal fur shampoo will destroy your hair and hair shampoo will make your fur sticky.”

“Oh, okay thanks… but what do you mean ‘changing’?”

“Well, think about it. Chirps are the first sounds a cub knows how to make when they’re born. Could be signs that you’re turning into a monkey. Though we probably can’t be sure until you start to chatter… or sprout a tail.” Macaque said, his glowing eyes looking towards the door. “Your dragon friend is here. Cya, bud.”

Then, like that, Macaque slipped out of sight as Mei walked into the room.

“Hey, monkey man~! Are you ready to dance until your feet fall off?!” She said, then looked at MK. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

“Huh? Oh! I dropped this.” He said, holding up the paper, “Then I sat down and started reading it.”

“What is it?” Mei walked over, looking down at it with a smirk. “ Hair-and-fur Shampoo ? Maybe you should buy some of that for Macaque. Who knows the last time he bathed.” She teased.

“Mei.” MK sighed, “You sound like Wukong.” He got up, putting the paper onto his bedside table.

“Hey, let’s keep the insults to a minimum now.” She said with a huff, “But seriously, what’s with that?”

“Uh… just started thinking, I guess. Since I started chirping I might be changing, so might as well be prepared.”

“Changing? Like what? Monkey puberty?”

MK shrugged, “Something like that. Now, let’s go before the arcade gets too crowded. I don’t want to stand in line forever.”

“Oh! Right! Leggo~” She said, taking his hand and pulling him out of the apartment.

The next day Wukong showed up in the restaurant itself.

“It always smells so good in here~” He said, sniffing the air as he sat at the stool.

“You sure have been showing up here a lot lately.” Pigsy commented, “Not that I don’t mind the business, I mean at least you pay.” He said, shooting a glare at Tang who seemed offended while MK chuckled. “Something going on?”

“Nah, just making sure Macaque keeps his grubby little hands off of you guys. I don’t know what he’s up to lately but if I show up here enough he’ll eventually get tired or face me himself. Either way, MK will be safer if I show myself sometimes.”

MK frowned, tightening his grip on the broom as he began to sweep again.

“I thought Macaque changed? Plus, he didn’t do any serious damage to MK, so… why are you out for blood, Monkey King?” Tang pointed out and Wukong frowned, then sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Macaque has ‘changed’ before.” Wukong said, quietly thanking Pigsy for the noodles and fruit dumplings in front of him. “I don’t want to think that this was like any of the other ‘changes’ but I can’t risk it, plus Macaque being near people - for any reason - is dangerous. For everybody involved.”

“You keep saying that, but what does that even mean?” MK asked, throwing his broom to the ground before he could even process that he was getting mad enough for this. “You say he’s ‘dangerous’ you say ‘he can’t be trusted’ but he saved me from you ! That’s enough for me! He saved me, helped me save you, and yes he did some bad things but he’s not a bad guy!”

Wukong tensed, looking back at him before he sighed. “Listen, bud. There’s a lot about Macaque that you don’t know-”

“THEN TELL ME!” MK said, stomping his foot with rage as the ground trembled slightly. “I don’t know anything about Macaque but I also don’t know anything about you! All I know about you, I read but I… I don’t know you Wukong.” He said, trembling as his eyes burned with frustrated tears. “I don’t know anything other than you picked an everyday, average, boring noodle delivery boy to be your successor…”

“Kid…” Pigsy began, walking around the counter. “Take a breath, you’re going to make yourself sick if you keep working yourself up.” He gently put his hand on MK’s shoulder.

“MK has a point.” Tang hummed, scratching his chin like an older gentleman would rub a beard. “All we know about the Six-Eared Macaque is some of his abilities, the Shadow Play stunt he pulled, and the way he helped us. But on a research standpoint, the Journey to The West only tells us that Macaque is one of four Celestial Primates and that he tried to use your appearance to seek out immortality. We also know that you killed him with your staff before reuniting your group and continuing your journey. Other than that one instance we have no idea what Macaque has done, and weighing the ‘good’ and ‘bads’ of the situation he’s helped more than harmed.”

Wukong popped a dumpling into his mouth, his tail swishing in a way that almost implied frustration like a cat read to pounce. “Well, there’s more to it than that. A lot more. But, no matter what that filthy monkey’s done… I have a promise to keep to him.”

“A promise?” Pigsy said as MK rubbed tears out of his eyes.

Wukong nodded, “Yeah, a promise. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you about why he’s dangerous but I promised Macaque that I wouldn’t mention it to anybody… though that was a long time ago. Before I killed him…” He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, “But for respect to the Macaque of the past I’m going to keep my mouth shut. Sorry, bud…”

MK shook his head, “Whatever… I’m going on my break.” He said, his voice wavering as he walked out of the building.

MK stomped down the street, trying to calm his heart which was pounding so hard in his chest he felt dizzy. The world was so loud when he was this upset, it was like everybody in Megapolis had microphones and big speakers attached to their backs and were all screaming at the same time. It was loud, crowded, and overwhelming.

His hands found their way to his hair, pulling at the strands as he tried to distract himself from how busy his mind was becoming with each step.

‘ He promised Macaque not to say, that means he’s doing it for Macaque, but it’s also hurting Macaque! Shouldn’t a promise not count if the person you made that promise to is suffering?! ’ He thought, tugging his hair again. ‘ Macaque needs people too, and you keep chasing everybody away from him all for a promise? Unless that promise was to make sure he was alone forever I don’t think he should keep it, and even if it was… shouldn’t the ‘respect for the past Macaque’ carry on now? If the past Macaque is hurting like the Macaque in the present then we should help him. ’

Mk took a sharp breath in, the afternoon air filling his lungs and attempting to calm him. Yet that incessant pounding in his chest wouldn't cease.The pounding was beginning to hurt, his breathing was unsteady and his eyes blurred with tears threatening to fall. It was all so frustrating. Every time Wukong did this it was like…no matter how much they go through, how close they get Wukong just won't talk to him. First the Lady Bone Demon, then the Samadhi fire, and now this! Mk let their breath out and ungripped his hands. Letting go of his hair and letting his arms fall to his sides.

He tried to steady his breathing but it wouldn't work with him, the frustration and anger grew within him with every new thought crossing his mind. He wishes he was strong enough to face Monkey King and get him to tell him everything, with no lies or excuses. The complete and utter truth, yet that seems too hard for Monkey king to do.

Mk’s walk is blinded by his thoughts and the tears that drip onto the concrete. He doesn't really know where he’s going and he doesn't care much. He just keeps walking while his frustrated mind and pounding heart guide him through the city. When he finally stops it's because he can't walk anymore. His legs have become sore and his frustrations have become too much for him. He needs to sit down.

Mk raises his head to look for a seat and something calms in his when he notices Macaques dojo not too far from him. He doesn't know how he made it all the way here yet he doesn't seem to care. His legs move on their own, walking towards the dojo with every step becoming quicker by the second till he’s full-on sprinting towards the dojo. When he gets there he throws open the door and finds Macaque in the main training room.

He’s panting while standing in a fighting stance, he’s not wearing a shirt so he must have been solo training. Mk knows he doesn't look good or okay, he wishes the thoughts weren't so deafening so maybe he could have thought to wipe away the tears and snot. Breathe the red out of his cheeks and nose. Then walk into the dojo with his usual big bright smile so Macaque didn't have to deal with this. With him.

Mk doesn't realize he chokes on his breathing, little sobs that escape him as he tries to breathe normally again. So he definitely doesn't notice the sad chirp he makes and what it does to Macaque the moment he hears it.

He doesn't have to know anything wrong, he shouldn't have to burden himself with his issues, it's not his problem, Mk’s just too sensitive for his own good and gets too upset over every little thing. It's really pathetic and stupid an-.

Arms wrap around Mk and pull him into a warm embrace, Mk is quick to throw his arms around Macaque and sob into dark fur. Between sobs, sad chirps continue to escape his lips. He lets Macaque pick him up and carry him somewhere. He doesn't know exactly where since dark fur covers his eyes as he continues to cry out his overwhelming frustrations. He’s suddenly set down in the middle of something familiar and soft. Mk opens his eyes and recognizes the familiar blankets and pillows beneath him.

It's the nest he and Macaque made the first time Mk had started chirping. He had kept it here? Mk’s hiccups and sobs crawled up his throat again as he was suddenly left alone without him ever noticing. He looks around the dim room for Macaque but doesn't see him anywhere, not in the room, not in the shadows. He’s nowhere to be found. What, did he just dump him in here to cry so he didn't bother Macaque with his annoying crying. He should have known, he should have known not to come and just cried it out on his own like he normally does. Instead of burdening other people with his issues. He should have known that he wouldn't get the comfort he sought for most.

He chirped again, this one louder than any he’s ever done before, then he sobbed and after another chirp. This repeating pattern of sobs and chirps as he curled up and hid his face into his knees is what causes something to drop outside. He grips onto his hair again, hands desperate to do anything while he sobs.

Suddenly something breaks closer to him and then hits the wall, before Mk can register what exactly that sound was he’s being pulled into those same warm warms and soft frantic apologies.

“I'm sorry, I'm so so so sorry.” Something else warm and fluffy wrapped over Mk’s back and then around Macaque.

“Im wasn't gonna be gone for long. I'm sorry, see I grabbed a blanket for you. I'm sorry.” Macaque wrapped an arm around Mk’s back rubbing gentle circles and his other hand combed Mk’s hair.

“Shhh, it's okay, let it out, let it all out.”

Mk grabbed onto Macaque as if his life depended on it, letting out frustrations even he didn't think he was still holding.

First Wukong not talking to him, avoiding the subject like he always did, leading to the Lady Bone Demon disaster, his best friend almost burning alive within the samadhi fire, Wukong getting possessed. Anything and everything going wrong till their on their last legs, barely coming up with a plan to save the world from being completely destroyed.

It all weighed so heavy on him, sure everything is okay now…but it isn't. It's not okay, nothing is okay and it hasn't been for a long time.

So he cries, he cries and he cries till his throat is sore, till his arms become too stiff to hold on anymore and he leans limp against Macaque. Face red and stained with tears. Macaque grabs something off to the side and brings it close to Mk’s face, he wipes away the snot and tears then throws the tissue in a random corner to deal with later. Mk isn't crying anymore, tears still build and fall down his face but he can't bring himself to care. He’s too tired to care at all over something as small as a tear.

Mk blinks and looks around, Macaque's house is the same as ever, he doesn’t know if that's a good or bad thing. The nest is mostly the same, a few pillows in different places but that's the only difference. Mk wonders for a moment if Macaque’s been sleeping in the nest since they made it, if it's still here then it must be being used. Right? Mk hums to himself with that thought and looks at Macaque. He can't really see his face since he’s leaning against his chest, but because of the angle, he notices scar’s on Macaque's chest. Weirdly placed scars that seem familiar but Mk cant-

Oh.

“Macaque?” Mk croaks, his voice sore and quiet due to all his crying.

“Hmm, yes? Do you need some water, another blanket?”

“Your trans?” Mk asks, looking up at macaque now, still leaning against him.

Macaque stared down at Mk, taking a breath in before answering. “...yeah,” he says, tightening his hold on Mk just slightly. Mk hums, putting his head back down.

“Me too.” he yawns, fighting the urge to let his eyes close.

“Really?” Macaque asks gently, combing through Mk’s now untangled hair. It wasn't much of a real question as it was to keep Mk distracted. Macaque had his suspicions but didn't comment on it. Felt it best not too.

“Mhm,” Mk hums, relaxing into the touch on his scalp. Something about the gentle caresses through his hair is just so…relaxing. So comforting. More so than any other form of comfort he’s experienced. It's soothing enough to just, fall asleep.

“Mei…Mei helped me get binders…and” Mk yawns “cut my hair….”

“I think you make a fine young man Mk.” Macaque hums, resting his head onto Mk’s head.

Mk sighs and finally closes his eyes “hmm, thanks…Momma.”

Macaque’s breath hitches, his fingers in Mk’s hair pauses and his tail lightly thumps against the floor.

“M…Mk?”

Mk deosnt reply.

“Kid?”

Mk breathes slowly and gently against his chest.

Macaque resumes his combing, letting his cub sleep. He needs the rest after crying that much. He can't bring himself to wake him up just to….

Momma

Macaque breathes, shaken and unsteady. His head still atop Mk’s. he doesn't know what to do when his heart leaps and something unfamiliar and scary builds in his chest. Yet it doesn't hurt, it doesn't make him cry. It's warm and protective. So he lets the feeling stay as he holds Mk against him. And with a sigh, he closes his eyes and lets himself rest.

Macaque stays there for a moment, not wanting to move MK from where he was clearly comfortable but after what happened last time MK was here he wasn't so sure. So after a moment of hesitation, he grabbed MK’s phone, but this time he didn’t bother just texting Pigsy or even calling him. Instead, he sent Pigsy’s contact to his own phone, then used his phone to call the restaurant.

“ Pigsy’s Noodles, home to the world's longest noodle. We’re not currently doing take-out orders but pick-ups are available. ” Pigsy’s voice said and Macaque hesitated.

“Pigsy, it’s Macaque. Don’t say anything, please, I know Wukong is there.”

A bit of silence, “ I see, how can I help you? ” Pigsy asked and Macaque let out a relieved sigh.

“MK just showed up at my place crying his eyes out. I don’t know what happened but I can guess… I just didn’t want you guys to worry. He’s with me, he’s safe, he’s just sleeping.”

“ Got it. Alright then. ”

“Do you want me to bring him back? I can take him to his apartment after Wukong leaves.”

More silence before Pigsy let out a sound that almost sounded like a sigh of acceptance. “ You know what, I don’t think we’re interested tonight. How about you keep the delivery at your warehouse tonight and drop it off tomorrow? I’m not sure we have the room in storage for it. ”

Macaque felt his eyes start to burn with tears as his tail flicked slightly. “Really?”

“ Yeah, why not. Other than a few bruised veggies I’ve never had any issues with your company. Just know that I’ll be keeping my eye on you and I’ll be sure to check the goods for bruises and damages upon drop off. Understood? ”

“I understand. Thank you, Pigsy… thank you.”

“ Don’t thank me. Enjoy your day off. ” Pigsy said then hung up.

Macaque looked at his phone before he put it down and relaxed.

Pigsy trusted him? After everything he’d done, Pigsy still trusted him? It was amazing and made his chest feel tight. Pigsy trusted him with MK, and he trusted him enough with him that he was letting MK stay the night. Though this did come with a bit of preparation.

Moving slowly he formed a clone to take his spot as MK’s pillow, continuing the pattern of hair petting that Macaque had been doing before Macaque left the room. He went to a more lofted area where his hammock was spread out and his clothes were discarded all around the room. He scrunched his nose, going towards the wardrobe as his tail swished. He didn’t have a lot of clean clothes left but he had a long-sleeved red shirt and black sweatpants with a blue and black “RavenClaw” patch on the left thigh.

‘ They’re all I’ve got to work with so he can use these. I just hope they’re not too big. ’ He thought, grabbing them both and taking it to the nest. He then put the clothes down on the corner of the nest, checking on the clone who gave a smile and a thumbs up telling Macaque that he can keep doing what he was doing.

Macaque smiled softly walking back into the main part as his tail swished.

‘ Now… dinner. What do kids eat? Noodles? It's too risky with Wukong there. Uh… maybe I have something ?” He thought, walking over to his cupboards.

Moldy bread, soggy old crackers, rice that had been gotten into by mice (gross), the milk could have been categorized as its own ecosystem just by looking at it through the carton, and there was something growing in a tupperware at the back of the fridge. Macaque’s ears drooped slightly, as he began to dump all of the food into the trash. One trash bag turned into two, then three. Finally, all that was left was canned soups that expired nearly a year prior. Hell, there was even a can that expired 5 years ago.

‘ What is this my emotional support can of soup? Why did I bring this everywhere with me? ’ He thought, flicking his tail with annoyance as he held it over the trash bag. ‘ It’s probably still good though. ’ He decided, putting it back in the cupboard.

Once the cupboards and fridge were clear of old and rotten food he took the bags out towards the alleyway dumpster. He then got to work on clearing the counter of old, broken, moldy, or plastic/paper dishes were either thrown away or put in the sink to be washed.

‘ When was the last time I cleaned? Why am I cleaning now? I guess it’s a good idea, MK could get sick if I don’t. I need to make sure the dojo is at least safe for him to walk through and stuff. ’ He thought, tying off another bag once it was full.

He continued cleaning the dojo, little by little making mental notes about broken glass, broken pieces of floor, and anything that was growing in corners. The longer he worked the more comfortable got until finally, he reached a point of comfort in the situation that he even began to sing and hum to himself.

Songs from musicals, old songs he’d caught others singing or new songs he’d heard over the radio. It didn’t matter, he sang whatever came to mind as he cleaned.

The dojo - for the first time since he trained MK - felt light and warm. A new kind of safety, comfort, and joy seemed to flow through the broken windows and empty halls. But why couldn’t he have done this when MK wasn’t here? Why could he only do it now that MK was sleeping in the other room? It didn’t make sense but honestly, Macaque didn’t need it to make sense.

Because it felt right.

It felt safe .

‘ Mama… ’ He thought again, ‘ I think I could get used to that… ’

When MK woke up it was to the sound of singing from another room. He blinked open his eyes, whimpering at the tightness in his chest where his binder sat as he sat up and rubbed his ribs. He then went to speak to Macaque who was now sitting behind him just to pale slightly when he realized by the slightly off appearance that it was a clone.

“Macaque?” He asked hesitantly as the clone picked up some clothes from the edge of the nest and held it out to him. The clone then tapped his shoulder where the binder straps sat. “You want me to change?”

The clone nodded.

‘ Macaque’s clones are strange… they’re not like mine but they’re not like Wukongs. It’s weird. ’

MK grabbed the clothes then got up as the clone dropped into the shadows and slipped out of the room without saying a word. MK then shook his head, pulling off his shirt before putting it on the nest. He then rolled up the binder slightly, slipping his thumbs under the shoulder straps as he pulled it up then over his head. The shirt that had been given to him was a bit dusty but not unbearably so and thick enough to hide himself. He shook the dust out of it, before pulling it on, the large shirt going down to his upper thighs making him feel like a little kid in his dad’s shirt. It was fun! He then pulled off his jeans, replacing it with RavenClaw pajama bottoms.

‘ RavenClaw, huh? ’ He thought, tying the strings so that they were snug around his waist. The only problem was that the pants had a small hole in the back for Macaque’s tail, but at least the shirt covered the hole. ‘ This is nice… but why? ’ He thought, picking up his phone as he looked at the messages he’d received since falling asleep.

Wukong had sent; Sorry, bud. We’ll talk about it someday, I promise. I hope you’re not too mad. Please be safe.

The message had hurt a bit, but knowing that it was as close to an answer as he was going to get for a while he just let out a sigh and went to the other message he’d gotten.

Pigsy had said; Told the monkey to watch after you tonight, that being said your window is unlocked if you want to come home. Take care of yourself, kiddo. We’ll see you tomorrow.

MK smiled, that explained some things at least. If Macaque was told to let him stay then of course Macaque would try to find him something to sleep in. Though, that didn’t tell him what the singing was about.

Walking towards the door he slowly peeked out and into the main area of the dojo. To his surprise it was clean. Something that MK hadn’t seen since he had been training with Macaque. Though there was something even more surprising and that was the fact that Macaque was the one singing as he swept the floors. He looked and sounded so happy.

‘ Did he want a sleepover that badly? ’ MK thought, stepping the rest of the way out. “M-Macaque?”

Macaque quickly turned, then cleared his throat. “O-oh! Hey, bud. How’d you sleep?” He asked, looking a bit sheepish.

“Good, how long was I out?”

“Uh, about an hour or two? How do the clothes fit?”

“They’re a bit big, but they’re cozy.” MK said, gently flapping the sleeves of the shirt as they fell over his hands.

To both the surprise of MK and Macaque the dark-furred monkey let out a soft almost purring-like noise before he coughed into his fist.

“Great! Uh, so I don’t have a lot of things to eat so I hope you can at least tolerate some of this canned stuff?”

MK looked at the options, eventually picking up one of the cans. “I’ll try this one. Pigsy spoils me quite a bit so I don’t eat a lot of canned things.” He laughed.

“That’s good. Canned shit isn’t good for people to eat all the time.” Macaque said, grabbing a can and opening it with the can opener before gently taking MK’s can and popping it open too. He then poured the contents of MK’s can into a pot and put it on the stove while he just grabbed a fork and began to eat straight out of the can.

“You’ve done a lot of cleaning, it looks really good.” MK said, watching as Macaque’s tail flicked at the praise.

“Yeah? Don’t know what got into me if I’m being honest. Just kinda started and didn’t stop, y’know?”

MK nodded, “Yeah, I get it. You should have woken me up though, I could have helped.”

“No way, cub. You’re a guest, you don’t get to clean.” He said, stirring the pot for a moment. “So… wanna talk about what made you so sad?”

MK looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… was arguing with Wukong. It was dumb and I lost my temper so I stormed off like a child.”

Macaque shook his head, “Cub, you are a child, that doesn’t mean that you’re acting childish. You were hurt, mad, and sad. Your fight-or-flight kicked in and you chose flight until you could calm down. Knowing when to walk away, especially when you’re pissed , is important.” He said, booping MK’s nose with his tail, making MK giggle.

“Really?”

“Of course, bud. If you never knew when to walk away from an argument then every little squabble would turn into a fight to the death. It’s just as important to know when to walk away as it is to know when to keep on fighting.” Macaque said, pulling the food off of the heat, pouring it into a bowl with a spoon that he sat at an island for MK to eat.

“But… I thought heroes were never supposed to back down from a fight?”

Macaque shook his head, “Nah, the real heroes are the ones who know which fights need to be fought to the end.” He said, taking another bite of his cold still-canned food.

MK nodded slowly, sitting at the island as he began to eat his food. “Macaque… why does Wukong keep saying you’re dangerous?”

He regretted asking the question as soon as it came out, watching the way the monkey bristled slightly then looked down as though avoiding the scolding of a parent.

“Because I am dangerous, MK. Sun Wukong… he’s right about that. I’ve hurt people, a lot of people including him… especially him. Wukong isn’t wrong for trying to keep me away from you and honestly if I could stand breaking your heart even just a little I would be staying away from you because I know that Wukong is keeping his eyes on me. He doesn’t trust me, and he has no reason to.”

“But you’re different, you’ve changed! You’re-”

Macaque put his can in the trash before he walked over, gently taking MK’s face between his hands. “I’m dangerous. Even if I’m not a danger to you at this moment… I’m still dangerous.”

“But how ? What aren’t you guys telling me? Why do you guys insist on keeping secrets from me to protect me but don’t explain when they hurt me?” He asked, not as angry as before but still just as hurt.

Macaque’s golden eyes scanned MK’s face sadly, “Okay… I’ll tell you a little, but I can’t tell you the full thing. Okay?”

MK relaxed, he would finally get answers? Really? Or was this just another trick? Gods, he was sick of tricks.

“Remember that story I told you; the one about the Hero and the Warrior?”

MK shuddered and Macaque shrunk down on himself slightly.

“I’m going to take that as ‘I wish I could forget’.” He said sadly, fixing MK’s hair before he jumped up onto the counter and sat down. Macaque rubbed his hands on his face, “Well, do you remember the part where I mentioned ‘the sun and the moon’?”

“I think so?”

“‘ The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon. Their light a protective glow shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth’ .” He said and MK frowned, wondering where this was going. “It wasn’t all… metaphorical. I mean, most of it was but… not all of it. See… the moon itself has no light of its own. It doesn’t glow or shine at all without the help of the sun. But if the sun left the moon could - hypothetically - get other light from nearby stars. Does that make sense?”

“Not at all.” MK said as Macaque let out a soft laugh.

“Alright, more direct then. My powers are weak, bud. I have very little power compared to Monkey King - to you - but I am able to absorb access powers that more powerful Demons and Celestials put out in their day-to-day lives. It’s how I was able to do all that stuff with your powers the first time we met. But that was ‘the moon’ forcefully stealing light from the ‘sun’ and the ‘stars’.”

‘OH, I’M A STAR! Okay, things might make a bit more sense now.’ He thought but kept listening.

“With more casual and comfortable friendships and relationships and whatever I can gain power even faster. But… at a cost.”

“What kind of cost?” MK asked.

Macaque hesitated, ruffling his hair. “Story for another day, bud. Eat your food, that stuff tastes terrible cold.”

“Oh, okay… Wait, then why did you eat yours cold?!”

Macaque laughed, “Lack of self-preservation, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m immediately worried about it.” MK said with a soft scowl.

Macaque placed his hand on Mk’s face and gently pushed, chuckling at the way Mk’s face scrunches up and he stumbles in place. “Don't.” Macaque removes his hand and jumps off of the table. Then sets his empty bowl into the sink.

“I will.” Mk retorts immediately, staring down Macaque.

Macaque takes the empty dish from Mk’s hands and boops his nose, again chuckling as his face scrunches up cutely.

“ Ack, stop doing that!” Mk demands, watching Macaque put the dish in the sink.

“Hmmm.” Macaque approaches Mk.

“No,” he says, booping Mk’s nose again and earning the same reaction. Mk shakes his head and glares up at Macaque with no real venom while Macaque just smirks. Macaque reaches up to do it again but is stopped when Mk grabs his arm and then slaps his hand onto Macaque's face. Macaque lets out a surprised noise and brings up his other hand to grab at Mk but he lets go of Macaque and runs off laughing.

Macaque huffs and chases him, back into the room where the nest is. He vaguely recognizes how broken his doorknob is. Look he’s not accountable for the things his instincts do, he heard a crying baby. He's gonna break anything and anyone to get to the crying baby.

Suddenly Macaque is attacked by a heavy pillow hitting him in the face

“Hah payback!” Mk yells pointing at Macaque with another pillow in hand. Macaque pulls his pillow down and raises an eyebrow at Mk’s giggling shenanigans.

“Ooooh you do not want to go down that route kiddo,,” Macaque says playfully. Mk’s glare on Macaque hardens.

“Bring it. Old man. ”

Macaque gasps with half fake offense “you little-” Macaque leaps towards Mk and Mk yelps, jumping away from Macaque with his pillow.

Macaque is quick to drop the pillow and chase Mk on all fours, jumping on different tables and chairs as Mk continues to scream and run through the room. Dodging Macaques every ‘attack’. Till finnaly Mk trips on a blanket and Macaque leaps to grab Mk, they both yell and tumble into the nest laughing. They end up in the middle of the nest, Mk laying on Macaques side and both of them laughing till their lungs hurt.

“Haha…who’s old now… squirt, ” Macaque said between laughs and breathes.

“Still you.” Mk laughed out.

Macaque grabbed Mk by the middle with a fake roar and pulled him close. Again Mk yelped and faked an attempt at escaping.

“Nooooooooo!” Mk laughed while Macaque dug his head into Mk’s head.

“Yeeeeeeessss!” Macaque grumbled.

Macaque smiled, loosening his grip on MK slightly, before running his finger through the kid's hair once again. “As fun as all of this is, if you keep picking a fight I will have no choice but to bring out the big guns and break my promise to your father~”

“Big guns?” MK tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you keep calling me old, I’ll have to do this. ” He grabbed MK’s headband, using it to turn his head to the side before he blew a raspberry on MK’s cheek.

MK let out a shriek, kicking his feet as he laughed, grabbing at his headband. “Stop! Mercy! You win!”

“Oh? Are you sure? Because there’s a lot more where that came from, I’ve been saving them.” Macaque said as MK chuckled.

“I’m sure.” MK said, “You’re not old.”

“Good.” Macaque let him go and relaxed.

“You’re ancient. ”

“OI!” He said, grabbing MK again. But this time he rolled Mk over forcefully and pulled him into his chest. The little cub squirmed a bit but Macaque didn't let go, even as his tail grabbed the nearby blanket and pulled it over them. Mk finally freed his head from Macaque's hold and took a deep dramatic breath in.

“You stink.”

“What?”

“Your old and your stinky,” Mk said digging his face back into Macaques fur.

“Am I really?” Macaque chuckles lightly.

“Yeah and I bet you snore like an old man, an old stinky man.”

“Your so kind.” Macaque sighs.

“Mhm, I know.” Mk smiles, wrapping his arms around Macaque. Macaque does the same, then commands a shadow to reach up and flip the light switch. Turning off all the lights of the room.

The moonlight is now the only thing illuminating the room. Macaque traces its light with his eyes and how it leaks through his windows and over the various pieces of furniture and blankets till it reaches Mk. His cub really is adorable, especially with the light illuminating his features. If Mk didn't look like he was trying to fall asleep Macaque would pinch his cheek right here and now bit decided against it to let him sleep peacefully.

Macaque wrapped his tail around Mk and sighed, again noting how the moonlight covers his cub. His cub, normally illuminated by the sun’s blinding light. Now here resting within the moon's dim lights, happily content and comfortable.

Macaque only wishes he could experience this more often.

Mk slurps loud and obnoxiously on his cheese tea, then munches down on a fresh and hot croissant.

Macaque had nothing good or fresh to eat for breakfast, he should probably get some for the next time Mk comes around. As long as other food things. He’d sure like to try some new snacks along with making sure Mk was fed well whenever he was around. But since he didn't have any good things to eat this morning he decided to buy himself and Mk some breakfast. Mk had insisted on cheese tea while the croissant was Macaque's idea.

“Thanks, Macaque!” Mk said, muffled by the croissant stuffed into his mouth.

“Sure.” Macaque tapped Mk’s back with his hand, gently pushing him “but maybe you should try taking smaller bites”

Mk leans over due to the push and his face scrunches up, he then straightens up and with his eyes closed tightly he swallows the entirety of the croissant. Macaque silently prepares himself to care for a choking cub, he’s sure that after this Pigsy is going to beat him away with a wooden spoon the next time he comes around. Although it seems Mk’s just fine as he throws a thumbs up with his free hand

“Hah, did it!”

“Why?” Macaque asks. Mk hums

“Because I can!’ He decides and Macaque chuckles to himself while shaking his head.

When they get to the noodle shop Macaque tenses, searching for any sign of Wukong yet he finds none, and most-not all he’d be a fool if he let down his guard tension falls.

“Hi, Pigsy!” Mk yells out, waving to the pig demon at the front of his shop messing with the open sign.

“Hey kid” Pigsy waves. Mk runs over to Pigsy leaving Macaques's side empty. As he approaches the two talking he takes notice of how empty it feels without Mk beside him, his tail gently grazing the ground where Mk once stood beside him. He dug his hands into his pockets and looked around the street. Trying not to feel awkward as Mk and Pigsy talked.

That is until the pig approached him with a white bag in his hand.

“Good job with the kid,” He said, holding the bag on his side. Macaque nodded.

“Y-yeah, anytime…for him,” Macaque said, watching as Pigsy stared him down. He almost felt like he was on the chopping block as Pigsy searched for something within him. Whatever he was searching for he seemed to find because the next thing he knows Pigsy is shoving the white bag into his arms.

“The kid likes you, I don't know why…I don't know what he sees in you but it's something…”

Macaque notes how the bag is warm with a container inside.

“Whatever it is for his sake I hope he’s right…about you”

Macaque sniffs the air and realizes its noodles, fresh and warm noodles.

“Don't disappoint him, okay,” Pigsy says. Letting Macaque grab the bag and removing his own arm from his chest to step back.

Macaque looks up from the bag and to Pigsy. Something clicks in him. Seeing Pigsy confront him while Mk stands a bit of a ways behind him. Just enough so that their conversation is private but Mk is still present. Pigsy cares for Mk just as much as Macaque does. Protective and warm. He wants to hold onto this feeling. He never wants to let it go. Not again. He can't ever let his light fade from his life again.

“Okay…”

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Hehehe i wrote the breakdown scene btw hehehhee If ur from my fics YOU KNOW THE DRILL LINE UP Kicks bucket TEARS GO IN HERE THANK YOU VERY MUCH. FOR COMPENSATION YOU GET A WEIGHTED BLANKET AND A HOT DRINK. Thank you so much for reading. See you guys next time!!! -Stella

(Stella is so awesome, if you haven't checked out their stuff you should. Their writing and art is just absolutely amazing! I also hope that these chapters help make up for the lack of chapters of Monkies Aren't Alright lately. I'm trying to give the Season 4 Specials/Season 4 to come out in English. But I'm still working on it, I promise :D) - Ari

#Chirp Au #lmk fanfic #lego monkie kid fanfic #Monkiebois #Momcaque

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kmhnsecretexchange · 5 months

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Title: shared secrets

Author: @toomanysongsrae

For: @/nyajimehinyata 💖💖

Pairings: Komaeda Nagito/Hinata Hajime

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Cramping Hajime is bedridden and Nagito helps and comforts him during the tough time and they cuddle together

A/N: I can never just write the prompt, there needs to be a silly little backstory lmao I hope you enjoy it, even though I took my liberties with the prompt! This was so much fun to write

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52563106

Hinata groans, pulling the thin covers over his head. It’s useless — it’s simply too loud in the Hope’s Peak infirmary, too bright, the bedsheets too starchy and itchy, the mattress too thin. He can’t get comfortable, and that means he stays tense, which does not help the matter.

He swallows down a wave of nausea, not wanting to throw up again. It always leaves him feeling even grosser than before, the slimy sensation of sickness on his tongue that makes his head spin and his stomach twist even harder.

This is stupid. This is why he decided to go on testosterone as soon as his doctor allowed it — well, this and the need to stunt any more of his stupid premature puberty that left him with curves in all the wrong places when all the other children still looked like, well, children.

He had always known he was a boy, much to his parents’ confusion and embarrassment. Thankfully, they wrapped their minds around it when they realized it wasn’t a phase and Hinata was not going to change his mind, and have been supportive of his journey ever since.

Japan, however, is not the most accepting of places for LGBTQ folk, so when he got into Hope’s Peak, an Academy renowned by being open-minded and accommodating to all students, Hinata made sure to tell the Headmaster that he wanted all of his records to state that he was male. Full stop.

Which is why he is hiding under that stupidly thin blanket on an uncomfortable bed in the school infirmary, a can of lemon soda on the bedside table — because he had to say to the uncaring nurse that he had a stomach bug of some kind. Stupid, he knows, but it gave him such a thrill to be able to pass as a cisgender male, that it was all worth it.

Just as Hinata resigns himself to spending the rest of the school day in pain, he hears a familiar, breathy voice.

“Komaeda?” He peeks his head out of the cover of the blanket to blink at the white-haired boy sitting on the examination table by the infirmary door, getting his hand bandaged by a very frazzled Tsumiki, with the bored-looking nurse observing over her shoulder.

“Hinata-kun!” Komaeda’s head whips in his direction, a genuine smile spreading across his pretty face. Hinata’s cheeks grow warm. “What are you doing here?”

Hinata shifts nervously. Him and Komaeda had recently gotten over their differences and began talking (…and other, more intimate, things), but Hinata hadn’t come out to him yet. It felt too awkward to mention in passing conversation, but there was also the chance that Komaeda would lose interest in him once he knew. And that… Hinata wasn’t sure he could deal with that just yet.

“Stomach bug,” he mumbles, lowering his eyes to Komaeda’s hand. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, nothing important!” Komaeda exclaims, waving his free hand dismissively. “I scratched myself, nothing major. You know how clumsy I can get!”

“W-w-well,” Tsumiki stutters. “It was ac-actually a b-b-big cut, K-Komaeda-san! And it’s r-r-r-risky, with y-your cond-conditio—,” Komaeda shoots her a dark look, making her squeak in fear and drop the roll of sterile bandages.

“It’s fine!” Komaeda lifts his bandaged hand, moving it around to show Tsumiki, Hinata and the nurse that the bleeding had stopped and the wound was properly covered. “See? I’m all good. You can go back to class, Tsumiki-san!”

The nurse nods and goes back to sit at her desk, whipping out a gossip magazine, featuring their senpai, Maizono-san, on the cover.

“A-alright, Komaeda-san,” Tsumiki bows deeply to him, then turns to bow at Hinata as well. “R-rest a little, p-p-please! And get better soon, H-Hinata-san!”

Hinata nods goodbye at her absent-mindedly, ignoring her fumbling exit and choosing instead to watch Komaeda as he jumps off the exam table and makes his way over to him.

“So, stomach bug?” Komaeda sits himself on the edge of the bed, facing Hinata. He wrings his hands in his lap for a moment before extending one to carefully push a stray lock of Hinata’s fringe away from his forehead. It’s an intimate gesture in a semi-public place, and Hinata’s eyes dart towards the nurse, but she seems too focused on the magazine to pay them any attention. “My poor Hinata-kun…”

Hinata flushes, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “It’s okay,” he mumbles. He’s considering pulling a hand out from underneath the blanket and running his fingertips along Komaeda’s delicate knuckles, asking him what happened to his hand, maybe entwine their fingers if he feels brave enough, but another cramp hits him hard, and all he can do is curl tighter, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to stave off the newest wave of accompanying nausea.

Komaeda’s fingers comb through his hair sweetly, and all Hinata wants to do is melt into his touch. “Sorry,” he eventually says, wincing internally at how frail his voice sounds. “I’m not the best company today.”

When he opens his eyes again, Komaeda is frowning at him with concern in his silvery eyes. “Hinata-kun,” he murmurs, “you should probably go home and get some proper rest.”

Hinata shakes his head, then has to close his eyes for a second as the room tilts dangerously. “No, it’s fine! I gotta go back to class anyway.”

“You’re definitely not going back to class,” Komaeda says, a pale eyebrow lifted. God, Hinata loves how expressive his face is. He watches as the pale boy whips out his phone and taps the screen a few times before slipping it into his pocket again. “Come on. I’m taking you home.”

“Ah,” Hinata winces. He doesn’t want to go back to his room. It’s a shared dorm, and his dorm mate, another boy from the reserve course, is the loudest, messiest, boy-est person he’s ever met. “It’s— it’s okay, I’ll just stay here.”

“You misunderstand me,” Komaeda smirks, helping Hinata sit up and grabbing his shoes. “I know you share a dorm room, so — I’m taking you to my place.”

“A-ah.” Hinata repeats, flushing again. They haven’t been in each other’s rooms yet, so this feels more intimate than anything they had done before — even more intimate than making out in the hidden corner of the reserve course library, apparently. “What— what about your classes?”

“We’re not graded by attendance in the main course. And don’t worry,” he says faux-casually, kneeling next to the bed and slipping Hinata’s shoes onto his feet, neatly tightening the laces before tying them in a pretty little bow. “Nothing has to happen between us, it’s just so you have a more comfortable space to rest in.”

Komaeda glances up, and Hinata notices his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. He has pale, faint freckles on his nose, Hinata realizes — it makes his heart race to notice such a tiny detail.

“Unless you don’t want to?” He asks, head cocked to the side as he stands back up, holding his hand out to Hinata.

“No, no, yeah, it’s…,” he fumbles, taking Komaeda's extended hand and standing up. Hinata looks up those two inches Komaeda has on him and meets his eyes, sees the tentative hope in their depths — his pulse stutters at how close they’re standing. He smiles through the dull, constant pain in his lower back and stomach. “That sounds… really nice.”

——

They ride to Komaeda’s home in a sleek black car, with tinted windows and a privacy screen separating them from the driver — the driver, who wears a black suit and hat, as well as white driving gloves, just like you see in those Hollywood movies, and who opened the door for both of them with nothing more than a polite nod. It’s fancy and foreign, and Hinata sits stiffly, hoping he doesn’t bleed onto the obviously expensive cream leather seats.

Komaeda sits by the opposite window, his tie and top button half undone. He’s watching the world fly by outside the car window, but his hand rests on the seat between them, palm up in an obvious invitation.

Hinata breathes through the sharp pain of a new cramp, and places his hand in Komaeda’s.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees the other boy smile.

——

After the shock of the fancy car and the polite driver, Hinata shouldn’t be feeling the way he is — and yet, surprise and wonder flows through him as Komaeda leads him inside his home. Well, inside his mansion.

He kicks off his shoes in a daze, gawking at the wide expanse of white marble floors and tall ceilings, the walls decorated by expensive paintings. As Komaeda takes him by the hand up the lavish staircase with an ornate handrail, he can’t help but feel like he’s in a museum, not a home. It feels too performative, too impersonal. Hinata wonders what Komaeda’s parents do to have such an opulent home.

Finally, after it feels like he just took a tour through the Louvre, Komaeda rushes him into an actual, lived-in space. “Stay here,” he says, ducking into what has to be the en-suite bathroom as Hinata looks around the potted plants, filled bookshelves, and piles of magazines about Hope’s Peak Academy. He’s such a fanboy, he thinks fondly, pretending the walls of his own bedroom at home aren’t covered in posters of Hope’s Peak alumni.

“There, change into these — hopefully they’ll fit alright,” Komaeda smiles, handing him a set of pyjamas that are softer than anything Hinata ever touched before. He sheepishly hopes he doesn’t bleed through — everything here is worth more than his own existence. “I’ll be right back.”

Hinata changes into the soft, comfy pyjamas, his heart just as soft for a short moment. Who could have told him that Komaeda — harsh, sneering, uppity Komaeda, the who teased and taunted him for being a mere reserve course — that this Komaeda was the same as that Komaeda. He smiles, touching the lapel of Komaeda’s signature green jacket, and then something inside him clenches — literally— and he has to hold onto the desk chair. He feels so sick so suddenly that he’s unsure if he can stay upright for much longer, so he half-shuffles, half-stumbles to the bed, cradling his stomach, dark spots at the edge of his vision. Even his thighs are cramping, the muscles winding themselves so tightly into knots that he falters and tilts forward, collapsing onto the bed in a moaning heap. Fuck.

Of course, Komaeda choses that moment to walk back in the room, arms full of items he haphazardly drops onto the desk. “Hinata-kun!” He exclaims, rushing over to a curled up Hinata and placing a cold hand on his back. “Are you okay?”

Hinata groans into the plush comforter, embarrassment creeping over him.

“Hmm,” Komaeda hums sympathetically, rubbing his hand over his spine, up, then down, then soothing circles on the small of his back, right where it aches. “Get under the covers, will you, Hinata-kun? I’ll help.”

Hinata nods, feeling grateful, if a little pathetic, and shuffles into Komaeda’s bed. The mattress is nice, without any springs pushing through and poking him in the ass, and the bedsheets slide over his skin pleasantly, cooling his feverish skin. His eyes slide shut without him thinking about it, the quiet, shaded room doing wonders to his nausea, and even though he’s half-sitting, slouched uncomfortably forwards, he feels closer to falling asleep than he did in the two hours he spent laying down in the infirmary ward at Hope’s Peak.

Komaeda touches his shoulder gently. “Ah, and, Hinata-kun,” he says, fingertips touching the cropped hair at the nape of his neck, “you should take off your binder before laying down.”

Crap.

Hinata freezes, his eyes staring unseeing at the light grey duvet. Crap, crap, crap! He hadn’t come out to Komaeda yet, not because he hadn’t wanted to, but because… Well, truthfully, because he’d been scared. What if Komaeda lost interest in him? What if Komaeda felt… betrayed, lied to? Or, worse yet — what if Komaeda didn’t care, because he wasn’t actually that into Hinata, because this was just a bit of fun to him? All of these, and worse, had made Hinata’s insides shrivel in panic, and so he hadn’t told him. And now… Now Komaeda knows, somehow, and must be feeling so disappointed in him.

Hinata bites his lower lip and reaches behind himself for the binder clasp. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Komaeda politely busying himself with the items he had dropped onto the desk, and shame overflows from his pores, from his bloodstream, from his eyes. He rips his binder off and throws it somewhere close to the rest of his clothes, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand before laying down in a foetal position, facing away from Komaeda’s tall, slender figure.

Fuck. He should have said no to Komaeda back then, should have stayed in the uncomfortable infirmary cot and suffered, in silence, all alone, like he deserves for continuously failing to meet even the lowest of other people’s expectations of him.

“Hinata-kun,” Komaeda murmurs, brushing Hinata’s hair back with gentle fingers. “I have some tea for you.”

“S’okay,” Hinata murmurs moodily. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. I’ll be out of your hair soon. Sorry.”

Komaeda shuffles behind him, then places the mug on the nightstand. Hinata hears him step away from the bed, and smiles bitterly. There, just as he deserves.

But Komaeda walks back towards him. The bed shifts behind Hinata’s back, and then there’s a hand on his back again. “Alright, no tea,” Komaeda says quietly. “How about a hot water bottle, then? It always helps me whenever I’m cramping.”

It takes Hinata longer than he’d like to admit for the words to register in his brain. Does Komaeda mean…?

Pushing through the debilitating pain, Hinata sits up and turns himself around to face Komaeda. “You mean…?”

Komaeda smiles at him. “What, you thought you were the only trans kid at a school like Hope’s Peak?” He chuckles, not unkindly, and touches Hinata’s hand again, his thin, pale fingertips curling around Hinata’s thicker, tanner ones. “Half of my class is trans, Hinata-kun, myself included.”

“Oh.” Hinata licks his lips sheepishly, then curls up again. “Ow…”

Komaeda passes him the tea with a quirked eyebrow. “Drink. I’m getting changed and then I’ll rub your back while you rest.”

——

Hinata thanks whatever higher power there is that his cramping hit him on a Thursday, because it lets him spend the rest of the weekend at Komaeda’s. That Friday he’s practically bedridden, fighting back a migraine and waves of horrible cramping that leave him silently weeping in pain — thankfully he has Komaeda taking care of him, getting him cold patches for his forehead and hot water bottles for his stomach, rubbing his back and petting his head and kissing him all better. Hinata feels pampered, loved even, and he recovers quicker than ever.

By Saturday afternoon, he’s able to have lunch with Komaeda on his balcony, holding his hand and gawking at his view of Hope’s Peak campus. They share a lot about themselves on that weekend — about their families (or lack of it, in Komaeda’s case), about coming out, about their hopes for the future. Hinata learns about Komaeda’s health issues, about how bitter and hopeless he had felt when he started at Hope’s Peak, about how he is now starting to see a glimmer of hope in his future, and thinks about how lucky he is to be close to someone like Komaeda.

They learn about each other that weekend and find themselves falling harder for the other. On Sunday evening, when Komaeda’s driver takes Hinata home to his dormitory, they cuddle up on the backseat, sharing quiet laughs and quick kisses. Unwilling to let each other go, it takes them over thirty minutes to part ways, and only after a promise to meet for lunch on Monday does Hinata leave the car, slipping into his dorm building without looking back so he wouldn’t give into the temptation of going back into Komaeda’s arms.

He steps over the carelessly discarded books and chocolate wrappers on the floor and quickly changes into his pyjamas, still on cloud nine. He crashes onto the bed, the springy mattress poking his back, and pulls the scratchy covers over his head. He smiles at his phone, at the new photo of himself and Komaeda that he had just set as his wallpaper, pink-cheeked and squished together to fit into the phone camera, and then smiles wider as a notification from the other boy pops up.

Even though his body aches from two days of cramping, even though the bed is infinitely less comfortable than Komaeda’s, even though he’s alone in the middle of someone else’s mess — Hinata feels like he’s never been happier.

#kmhnsecretexchange #submission #fanfiction #sfw #suggestive #komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #sdr2 #dr3

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croctus · 1 month

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how would you improve each datable NPC in Stardew Valley?

i was bewildered for a moment before i remembered i was talking shit about them on this blog previously haha! let me see. i think most of them i have issues with just act 10 years younger than they are- so there are a few ways this can be changed?

also keep in mind i adore stardew and really do like these characters even just as they are, im just a hater lol

judging hard-

Alex

i honestly think this guy could be GREATLY improved if he were actively taking care of his grandparents. maybe we see him out walking with them, on the roof doing repairs before a rainy day, running errands for them or cooking for them, etc. boy spends half his time staring at his dog in a household of two elderly disabled folks who could use him. even a teenager could take notice and offer to help.

Abigail

shes one of the most childish unfortunately lmao. i think one of the most glaring is she goes extremely hard in an easter egg hunt against two preschoolers- maybe if she instead tried to help one of them win but got a little competitive about it, thatd be cute? idk. additionally she could work part time at the store, or at the guild, or clint's, it'd fit her character.

Sam

i get the player interactivity elements but what kind of goober goes through all the work to put a band together but doesnt know what genre they wanna play, unless theyre just a teen interested in the aesthetic of a band. it comes across sorta inauthentic. boy rolls his eyes and grumbles when his mom asks him to help clean a fish, too. cmon man, youre grown.

Sebastian

both sam and seb suffer from the same 'gawwd stay out of my room MOOOM' sort of vibes- maybe if they had an apartment together but still regularly visited their parents for dinner theyd come across as a little more grown (not to say that like, living with parents is inherently childish but how they interact with their folks comes across that way). he also really shouldn't be taking his angst out on his opinion of his half sister, and maybe if he had a little more of a solid adult go-plan than 'im gonna run away to the city' hed seem more mature.

could b better-

Shane

i dont want to be harsh on this guy but he sort of backslides after marriage hardcore. depression isnt a singular uphill climb but at least he could show hes still working on it- the occasional mention of a talk with a therapist, or cleaning up a little after himself, etc. maybe trying to eat a little better when living on a farm lol.

Penny

shes fine, other than the scene w/ george: pushing his wheelchair without asking and then HE apologizes/the scene fames this action as a good thing and you lose points with her if you point out it's rude. sometimes in trying to help people, you dont always do the right thing for them - that would be a little more nuanced for her.

im just picky-

Elliott + Harvey

theyre fine? maybe itd be fun if elliott went on some book tours or somesuch in the winter regularly after marriage, and harvey joined a plane hobbyist group or smth. they have a lot of personality but an issue a lot of these characters have is they just sort of putter out after marriage

Leah + Haley

this game has a lot of redheads lol. leah is fine though, and haley is cute. like other npcs id just want them to find their own independent success with their artistic skills- maybe letters come in the mail occasionally to them congratulating them on photos/sculptures making it into magazines, etc, to show they still have their own things going on

Emily + Maru

they're fine, i just like older/fanmade versions of their sprites more lol

#long post #ramble ramble #thank you for asking!!!#pls do not take my opinions seriously

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vegaseatsass · 1 year

Text

GAP the Series ep 4 thoughts (spoilers!!)

Every episode is genuinely better than the one before. Laura agrees w/ me so you know it's true!! Bless this show.

I think Sam's little "maybe I'm becoming your fan" joke was her actually funniest one yet. She's still just too happy about the "Mon's my fan" reveal. Fan4fan 🥺

Learning that Kirk barely scratched the surface with his Sam codebreaking lessons, and actually Sam's just full Opposite Day with expressing feelings, because she learned to deny herself of any wants and repress everything away at such a young age, is an absolute gift of a character detail. I def want to go back and rewatch the first three episodes now that we know this about her LOL

It's also such a fun reveal that Sam really is that boring and work-obsessed, and the humanizing details Mon's soaked up from interviews are all FAKE. I bought into the cultivated personality Kade created for Sam too, into the belief that by following her public persona Mon had access to a side of Sam her coworkers didn't, and that really kind of is how idol culture feels? You're so sure you're seeing a truth that the less devoted or observant are missing. Now Mon's devoted observational skills are paying dividends, and honing her into the ultimate Sam whisperer, but via what she sees with her own eyes, not what she could pick up from afar from magazines or Instagram!

idk I have a lot of thoughts about Mon-as-fan and how safe that's made it for her to spend ages 10-22 in love with a woman. The protective artifice and distance of the fan relationship goes both ways yk? I've done it the other way - where being a fangirl of men helped me feel straight without having to confront how I felt around men IRL - but Mon has been having these intensely sensual fantasies about Sam since episode one, yet I really think she mentally handwaves them as fangirl stuff, not trying-to-smash stuff. "I would make a move if I were a man" was such a clearly thoughtless comment and it intrigues me. If Sam had said DO IT, COWARD! do you think Mon would be able to do it??? Would instinct and a decade of want take over, or would her self-knowledge kind of shake apart around her as a startling (if veryyyy obvious) Truth becomes clear: She doesn't just idolize Sam, she wants her carnally Just genuinely don't know that Mon's ever looked at what it means about Mon to like Sam the way she does. Idolizing Sam has given her grounding joy and purpose for 12 years, and she hasn't had time to worry about things like boyfriends if she wanted to make it into Sam's venerable company. What's there to question? It's just a fascinating and very real depiction of how heteronormativity can keep us from seeing the incredibly, brazenly obvious. Every week I get a little more excited for how it's going to look when this woman who has been crazy in love since she was 10 actually fully realizes that she is IN LOVE in love.

Love that Sam's friends were like "Mon we are going to break it down for you. Sam 👏 is 👏a 👏 bottom. Here is how to care for her." It takes a village to raise a useless lesbian, truly. Can't decide if I think Sam's a sub top or a dom bottom but it's just incredibly cute that she's been a bossy weirdo who desperately needs help socializing since she was tiny, and these three women/recovering bullies have taken on the noble task of guiding her through her chaotic dom bottom (this is where I'm landing for now ok) instincts.

When Sam was ordering the chef around with no self-insight that he was uncomfortable 😂 felt like a little window into her management style lmao

Tee is hilarious. All of them are hilarious but I'm feeling particular gratitude for Tee. CANNOT WAIT FOR TEE/YUKI BAYBEE

Ep 1, Ep 2, Ep 3

#gap the series #gap the series spoilers #sam #mon #OH CORRECTED THIS POST BECAUSE it's if EYE were a man i would make a move #infinitely more fascinating #dear diary

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praecurokat · 1 year

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Ted Lasso Finale Thoughts- So Long, Farewell... (I do not know what to think!)

this episode being an hour and 15 minutes..after being released at midnight... that's just cruel.. my brain cannot operate properly under such conditions..

congrats Tedbecca shippers! oop watched more.. sorry Tedbecca shippers...

most normal Beard and Jane appearance in the series at Rebecca’s house in the beginning

writers were bringing the dramatic flair in this episode! first that thing with Isaac dressed as a judge in the beginning, and then a musical number! idk how i feel about that..

speaking of the musical number, i must regretfully inform the masses that idk what the song is from.. pls lmk in the comments.. i see that it relates to the episode title

ah yes Jane acting totally normal by shredding Beard's passport.. total ✨ marriage material ✨

Trent's shirt says sat 17 may.. could this be significant?? everything in this show is..

"You know, that might be a tasty little treat for the diamond dogs.” “No. No. No. No!”-Roy, soon to become a Diamond Dog in a moment of desperation

wait did Trent name his manuscript the lasso way awww

“I only got into this to ruin Rupert's life, and he seems to be doing a pretty good job of that himself.”- Rebecca

So. Many. Throwbacks. Keeley saying “Is everybody decent?”, Jamie using lots of axe body spray like S1, the cleaner walking in on everyone, and way more i can’t think of

the complicated web that is royjamiekeeley is still being spun.. in the last episode..

“Must be awful for them, lying awake at night, haunted by how fucking easy they’ve had it!”- Mae, to Rebecca’s mom

Trent watching Ted read his book.. heart eyes emoji

the way Ted looks at him.. i meannn is this even subtext anymore?

“So you do laugh, but you don't do it until page.. 43?! And it wasn't even a big laugh!”- Trent, while Ted is reading his manuscript

"Whatever happens on Sunday, I want you to know I’m proud of you. All the work you’ve put in this year."- Roy to Jamie, before proceeding to fistfight with him later

Both Roy and Jamie seem very contemplative this ep. What are they thinking??

i am so concerned about the current royjamie feud over Keeley... what is gonna happen here???

“Would you please stay?” and “I know, I just had to try.”- Rebecca, about Ted

lmao Keeley kicking both Roy and Jamie out after they asked her to choose

“You stay put, Trenthouse magazine. You’re part of the squad now.”- Ted, to Trent

“Yeah. Someone better. Can people change?”- Roy, also this is a central tenet of this damn show

“I don’t think we change per se, as much as we just learn to accept who we’ve always been, you know?” -Trent’s most beautiful quote thus far

aww Nate finally got his diamond dogs reaction to Jade

George being Rupert’s coach sent me.. like you Really couldn’t find anyone else?

I hate Rupert but I love his dramatic slay coat swish moments.. again reminds me of Uther’s drama queen antics

“I prefer rugby, there’s just more grown men throwing other grown men into the air like children. And blood. Which is nice." - Barbara

Bloodthirsty and mysterious? Barbara is a serial killer or vampire confirmed.

“Never forget, I am always inside you.” -Zava’s note, which also came with a giant avocado

Zorro has truly entered his superhero arc and Dani Rojas is his genius creator

the fourth thing has to be 'Believe'.. aand it was? Right?

AFC Richmond Women’s club.. i sense a spinoff show opportunity…. or they could just do a show about Trent

George has begun a redemption arc!! (Telling Rupert to fuck off)

Rupert's desperation and misery at the end is not entirely unreminiscent of Rebecca at the start of S1

yesss Colin got his kiss on the pitch!!

haha the same? person from S1E1 taking pics w Ted in the airport

damn so Beard’s going home too, thought Jane would've locked him away in a safe or smth… nvm

omg Amsterdam man has a child.. hmmm Rebecca’s prophecy may still be fulfilled

Roy becoming manager feels natural

Ofc Trent renamed his book ‘The Richmond Way’… never let them know your next move

that montage at the end…so much to process....

beardjane wedding marking the end of the series.. good or bad omen for the future? i think bad

seems very fitting the series ending the opposite of how it began.. Rupert's life ruined, Rebecca in love and not owner of the club, Roy and Jamie healing and bonding w others around them, and Ted back in America with family.

#ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso #afc richmond #trent crimm #roy kent #rebecca welton #isaac mcadoo #coach beard #jamie tartt #keeley jones #ted lasso s3 #ted lasso finale #anotherofmybrilliantthoughts

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dbzebra · 2 years

Note

Marten + “let’s split the bill” since marron isn’t a gold digger;) lmao

THIS WAS THE FASTEST I WROTE SOMETHING IN MONTHS!!!!!!!

“That’ll be 25,000 Zeni, sir.” The young waitress said with a kind smile.

“Geez, guess I ate more than I thought…” Goten tugged at the collar of his tight itchy suit awkwardly, glancing to his date. Across from him sat the most beautiful girl in the world. The girl who could light up a room just with her smile. His fiancé, his darling Mar. The blonde wore a pretty blue dress that accentuated her womanly curves, and her blonde hair came down in blonde waves. She was smiling at him, and even after all these years together that smile made his heart do flips.

“Take your time, I’ll be back~” the waitress said and walked off to another table.

Marron leaned in a little bit, concerned. “You alright?”

“Uhm, y-yeah. One sec.” Goten dug into his wallet, mumbling something to himself under his breath.

He always got carried away a little too much when he took Marron out to dinner. It wasn’t his fault though! Everything looked so good! So when it came time for the bill, he suffered.

Opening his wallet, Goten’s stomach dropped. His face burned with his embarrassment, sighing. He was short a few hundred zeni. Goten cursed himself for not packing enough cash. He didn’t own a credit or debit card, so he usually just brought cash with him.

Looking at the concerned face of his gorgeous fiancé only hurt worse. “I’m sorry, Mar.”

“For what?” She reached across the table to gently touch his hand.

“Now that I’m a famous fighter, I wanted to take you to a nice place. Cause you deserve it. But I underestimated the prices and now I’m short…” Goten said, the humiliation in his voice evident.

Marron giggled. “Oh sweetie, don’t worry. Let’s split the bill.”

“W-What?? No, Mar, I can’t—“

Marron put a finger up, hushing him. Smiling, the blonde woman shook her head as she dug into her purse. “Don’t you start, mister. I know how you are, you never let me pay. I make plenty of money at the magazine, and you’ve been so stressed working on building the dojo. Please, I don’t mind.”

Marron would rather die than be superficial enough to just care about a guy’s money. Goten could be poor and she’d still love him with her entire heart.

Goten smiled, finally giving in. She really was the best. And in two months they’d be husband and wife. He couldn’t wait. “Okay, thanks, babe. I owe ya one.”

Without missing a beat, Marron rested her chin in her heads as she leaned forward. She was a inking at him with a sultry smile. “Well, I can think of one thing that comes to mind for when we get home~”

Goten was beat red when the waitress returned to take the check, as Marron smiled even brighter. Even the strongest in the world still had his weaknesses, huh?

#Goten #Marron #marten

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hobbitunderthemountain · 6 years

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nothin like getting to work and being told you’re being moved from the desk with a view of downtown to a desk in the corner of the office staring at a wall :))))

#i still have to preface this by saying how much i genuinely love and enjoy my job it's the absolute coolest #but today was just one shitty thing on top of another regarding office arrangements #they had like 5 new people starting in this TINY ASS office we have in this building #so they moved me cause i'm just the temp i guess #and i was like well at least i get a better monitor #*2 minutes later* 'the new PMs monitor doesn't work w the old monitor so we'll switch it out with your nice new monitor'#new laptop stands??? YOU GET ONE AND YOU GET ONE AND THE TEMP WHO STARTED AFTER ME GETS ONE!!!#was i offered one?? no i just still have my laptop stacked on some magazines i scronunged up around the office #i guess i have to be more assertive #but i still would have ended up in the corner i have a feeling #i'm not in a position to demand things #work adventures #AT LEAST I DIDN'T GET THE SHITTY OFFICE CHAIR FLOATING AROUND #THERE'S THAT #i'm so fuckin bitter #but again #it's really hard to complain when i have such a fuckin awesome job #i sound so privileged i mean i am #but lmao 'wah i don't get a downtown view in my fancy new job that pays well'

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9w1ft · 2 years

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Ever since i became a Kaylor, i started looking through kk's work and trying to understand what being a "model" was on a deeper level, and why was she one of the most revered top supermodel of our time. She wasn't as (commercially) popular as say Kendall Jenner or Gigi Hadid, but from what i can see, she's like the most respected (or favored?) by the industry people themselves? Add to that the fact that she came into the fashion scene w/o connections, like she really started from scratch and made her way up to the top. So i'd watch these fashion designers, magazine editors, scouts etc. talk about Karlie and them saying how even as early as 15 or 16, she already has the "it" factor. I always wondered what it is about Karlie that is so magnetic, you can't see it as much on her editorials, but my god, when you see her move on the runway or just in a video, she's so so charismatic, elegant and you could feel like she really embodies her dress. Like anything she wears is elevated because of she herself.

Brandon Maxwell mentions that when he first saw Karlie.. "that has to be the most beautiful person i've ever seen in my life.. she was so full of life and she had cookies on her hand" 😂 then when Anna Wintour asked Tonne Goodman, after seeing the up and coming models (karlie was around 15/16 still), who she thinks was gonna be the next big model, she said "you're not gonna wanna hear this from me cause she's young, but she's got "it". She knows what she's doing. She has a true feeling of whatever she puts on her body.. Karlie Kloss". Another one is from a video when she was again 15/16 then a scout (?) said that Karlie had that classic look. Naomi Campbell even praises her, and says that she considers Karlie as someone who could qualify as a 90s supermodel of her (naomi) generation.. idk these things made me kinda teary eyed looking back from where we are now. The way her legacy is continuously being tarnished by everything.

I now understand that being a model isn't only about having "the look", but a feeling. An aura, an energy that makes other people wanna look at you. She's quite literally the sun, everyone's magnetized by her because she's full of life, i can totally see now why Taylor said that. It's not just cause she's warm or smiley, it's because you don't want to look away from her. Karlie has a pull that makes her such an amazing supermodel. The sum of her, makes her beautiful... not just her looks.

This became a love letter to kk lmao!! But i really hope that someday she gets her shine back. I want to see the respect she had back then come back to her, she deserves it all, she's not even 30 yet! 💛

i couldn’t agree more! the people will say what they will about karlie but i think the more you look into it the more it’s clear that she is well revered in her industry: leaves an impression, always a pleasure to work with, fantastic at what she does. i think this kind of favor is what’s most important in terms of how she views herself.

i love reading or listening to pillars of the industry talk about her. that interview of her by Naomi was such a delight and i really got a sense of what Naomi meant when she said she counts karlie as a real one. in a time where we saw socialites celebrities and actors replace models on the face of magazines and brands, karlie held her own, and furthered the lineage and lore of the regular-girl-turned-supermodel. sometimes i’ll look at runway shows from when she was up and coming and she completely stands out. the “it” factor is there. she’s been through some wild things for all we can fathom but i see her hit her mark again and again and it’s really inspiring. i’m thrilled to see what she does in her 30s.

here’s a link to the recent Tonne Goodman clip you were mentioning, in case people haven’t listened yet. peep the like from lily aldridge ☺️

#thank you for such a beautiful anon!

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deus-ex-mona · 2 years

Text

just a summary of the yujiro valentine’s event

exactly what it says on the tin. happy valentine’s day~!

chapter 1:

yujiro gets a solo job offer to do some valentine's day-themed interview + photoshoot for a fashion magazine (he was chosen because his fans voted for him in a poll that went along the lines of “which celebrity do you want to be your boyfriend?”). oops, i misread lmao. it’s actually because the staff in the magazine’s editorial committee are fans of his. sorry~!

he has to answer a questionnaire full of romance questions and everything.

yujiro admits that he’s bad with stuff like this, but he decides to try to write his own answers for the questionnaire anyway.

chapter 2:

he makes a draft for the interview based on the questions that hiyori showed to him. hiyori and aizo diss his answers.

yujiro: what’s wrong with my answers? going on a date to a movie or to an amusement park and then happily accepting whatever the valentine’s date gives me… those are decent answers, right?

hiyori: but are those really your true feelings?

yujiro: yes.

aizo: liar. you probably planned your answers out beforehand, thinking “i’ll probably be asked questions like these”. your answers are too perfect that they feel like a copy of someone else’s.

yujiro: what’s wrong with that?

aizo: they’re boring. are those really the kind of answers you want your fans to read?

yujiro: then you do it!

aizo: huh? but it’s your job!

hiyori stops them from fighting, saying “if you fight, we’ll never get the questionnaire done!”

yujiro says that he knows that, but he admits that he has no idea what all those lovey dovey nonsense is

aizo and hiyori come to the realisation that yujiro has no love experience.

yujiro: probably.

aizo expresses his disbelief at the fact. yujiro asks aizo if he had ever loved anyone. aizo blushes and retorts with “w-we’re talking about you now, yujiro!”

yujiro says that he really is bad with stuff like that. “regarding ‘where would you take the person you’re on a date with to?’, if the person i’m going out with wants to go to a specific place, i’m fine with going there.” and “regarding ‘what would you be happy to receive on valentine’s day?’, you’d give chocolates on valentine’s day, right? why bother asking such a question?”.

aizo: you really are bad with things like these, aren’t you?

yujiro: that’s what i’ve been saying from the very beginning!

chapter 3:

hiyori tells yujiro what the girls would want to read in his interview (long story short: his true feelings).

that night, after work, yujiro reattempts the questionnaire.

aizo asks yujiro what the ideal kind of person wants to date is (since yujiro has no love experience and all).

yujiro: a person who doesn’t reveal my job. (fml) interfere with my business

aizo: :) ok.

yujiro: a person who doesn’t mind it when i don’t contact them often.

aizo: :) i see.

yujiro: a person who doesn’t talk to me when i’m sleepy.

aizo: :/ … you just want a person who’s convenient to you, right?

yujiro: [thinking] he may be right…

aizo: you just thought “he may be right”, didn’t you?

yujiro: [blushes] not at all. i didn’t think that, not even for 1 millimetre.

yujiro then asks aizo if he has love experience. aizo says “no”, but…

chapter 4:

aizo talks about ken’s playboy phase + the fact that he yeeted out of it and changed himself for arisa. (he names neither ken nor arisa though… nor does he say anything about how the person he was talking about was actually his brother)

aizo then says “the questionnaire asks ‘what’s your ideal type (of lover)?’ but maybe these kinds of things just happen on their own, and you end up falling for someone who’s not your type to begin with”.

yujiro: >:( that’s not an answer (probably with regards to his previous question about whether aizo had love experience)

aizo: ikr. think about it at your own pace, ok?

aizo then leaves yujiro to deal with the questionnaire by himself.

cut to the next day. yujiro’s out observing couples.

yujiro: i wonder if i’ll be like [those couples] someday… nah, no way. people are troublesome. being with my dog is way more fun. but if i keep thinking that way, i’ll never get the questionnaire done…

he gets hungry and goes to a crepe stand when…

chapter 5:

…he sees ken and arisa squabbling (?) over the usage of matching keychains.

ken: you really don’t wanna?

arisa: i told you that i don’t want to!

ken: but we just got those keychains? you like them, right? they’re matching after all.

yujiro: :/ are they seriously discussing whether to use matching keychains or not? this is why couples are…

ken: it’s fine, right?

arisa: i definitely don’t want to!

yujiro: the girlfriend’s pretty stubborn. will they end up in a full-fledged fight?

ken: got it. we won’t use them, then.

arisa: …are you really okay with it?

ken: yup. i don’t wanna do something that you hate, arisa. i wanna be with you forever.

arisa: thanks, shibasaki.

yujiro: oh what unexpected developments. i thought that they’d definitely end up fighting with each other.

arisa: it’s not that i don’t want to use the keychains. using matching keychains is embarrassing. plus, i don’t want them to get damaged from use. they’re important to me.

ken: you really are cute, arisa

arisa: [tsun mode activates]

ken and arisa joke around for a bit, smiles all around.

ken: i’m glad you told me your feelings, arisa. let’s be sure to discuss things together before deciding on them from now on as well!

arisa: yeah!

yujiro: discussing things together, huh…

yujiro then takes his phone out to refer to the questionnaire that hiyori had sent him...

chapter 6:

it’s the interview.

yujiro says that he has no romance experience (which he excuses away as being a busy high school student) aside from having his first love be his kindergarten teacher… and he also says that he if he ever found someone with whom he fell into a mutual love, he wants his partnership to be like ken and arisa’s…

he then does his photoshoot thing.

chapter 7:

lipxlip valentines day live.

in the dressing room, aiyuu squabble a little, with aizo saying “you’re really not cute.”, and yujiro saying “i don’t want to be thought of as cute by you, aizo.”.

yujiro: [thinking] why did that person say such a thing?

yujiro proceeds to have a flashback to the interview, during which someone said “ok i know that you don’t have anyone that you love yet, but i can see that you have a good partnership with aizo”.

yujiro: …we fight a lot, though.

and it’s live time, where they sing chocokano.

epilogue:

just yujiro, aizo, and hiyori discussing yujiro’s interview.

hiyori: [talks about how his magazine appearance was well-received by the public] good for you someya!

yujiro: i’m on the cover page. of course it went well.

aizo: i read that magazine too.

yujiro: eh.

aizo: what’s with the “eh”?

yujiro: nah, nothing.

yujiro: [thinking] it has nothing to do with aizo, it’s my solo job, and yet he read it…

aizo said that he liked the interview, and wondered if yujiro had made up the story about the couple (which he especially liked).

yujiro: it really happened. also the boyfriend kinda looked like you. [describes ken]

aizo: :( not at all

yujiro: oh really?

aizo: really! just what made you think we were similar anyway?

yujiro: the atmosphere around him?

aizo: [passionately rebuts yujiro’s claim]

yujiro: [thinking] but he really was similar (to aizo). come to think of it, the girlfriend called him “shibasaki”, right…? eh, must have been a coincidence.

concluding that he would never run into ken and arisa again, yujiro then decides to forget all about the couple…

#i'll chuck something at the wall if the next dream story event features aiyuu and ken+arisa meeting up or something #lipxlip #honeyworks premium live #just honeypre things #it may be inaccurate at times (liberties were taken with the phrasings and such) so please take this with a pinch of salt thankssss

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

Text

Out of Context

Request: First of all, congratulations on 1,000!!!! Could you do a a sequel to Interloper where maybe an interviewer is giving her shit for having once been a groupie and Bri Rog and Deaky defend her and have amazing sex after at like their hotel 😂-foursome anon (I’m back)

Interloper / Snapshots From Before (Prequel)

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Brian May x John Deacon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), gangbang/foursome, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, tit fucking, light choking, slightly dom reader, cheer up sex, some spanking, double and triple penetration

Words: 6,145

A/N: This was another request from back at my 1000 follower celebration last year. It’s been sitting half written in my drafts since then and I finally felt inspired to finish it lmao. Foursome anon I hope you’re still around and you see this!!

Blurb Advent: Day 10

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies

Doing press wasn’t easy, especially when interviewers insisted on questioning you all separately. You preferred having at least one of the boys to back you up. They’d been dealing with the whole interview process for so long now they knew how to avoid answering things they didn’t want to, knew how to deal with rude reporters. But it was all new to you. Perhaps that was why this particular interview had gone so badly. There was no Freddie to make the right snide comment, no Roger to get pissed off on your behalf, no Brian or John to squeeze your knee comfortingly or take over when you go tongue tied.

Things between you and the rest of the band had been going much better since Freddie had locked you in that room together. It didn’t happen overnight, there were still lingering tensions. But any badmouthing they did of you was out of your hearing which you much preferred. Gradually, as the tour wore on, there were less tensions. They got used to having you around, began including you in their games of scrabble and their not-quite-awake conversations over hotel breakfasts. Until one day, in the final leg of the tour, when Freddie admitted to you quietly that he hadn’t overheard any whispered comments for nearly a week. “And here I was thinking we’d never get there.” “Oh hush, darling, I told you from the beginning they wouldn’t hate you forever. Sure they took a little longer to come around than I had anticipated but it all worked out in the end. And now when you tell them the execs have asked for another full album featuring you, they probably won’t kill you.” They hadn’t, of course, though you’d worried for the safety of everyone involved in making the decision. Roger looked as if he were a second away from punching the first person to talk to him.

They took less time to calm down though, especially after they saw how nervous you got before the first interview. Your agent had decided some preliminary press would help build excitement for the album before the songs were even written. Calls were made, journalists were found, and before you knew it you were facing a crowd of people vying to ask you their questions, cameras flashing the whole time. It was a lot. More than pushing you into the deep end, you’d be thrown to the bloody sharks. Any lingering ill will the boys had for you vanished after that. They’d all thankfully been there too, had drawn the attention to themselves rather than let you struggle to answer everything on your own. After that they’d kept an eye on you during the smaller interviews. Mostly the reporters were happy to talk to you all together and, as long as you said one or two things about how excited you were to be working with Queen again, and how much fun touring with them was, you could get away with letting them take lead. But every now and then you got stuck with some jackass who wanted to quiz you solo. And this interview, this horrid interview, had been one of them.

Roger pushed the magazine away from himself, letting it slide as far down your kitchen table as it would go. “She’s a fucking bitch that reporter.” You looked down at the magazine, still open to your interview, the headline alone making your stomach turn. “No, sorry, that’s an insult to dogs. She’s a fucking cunt.” “Rog,” “No, that’s an insult to vaginas. There is no word strong enough for that poor excuse for a journalist.” “Roger, sit down.” Roger shot Freddie a dirty look but sat down anyway, his knee bouncing with restless energy, “Sorry. I’m just pissed off.” “Yes, we gathered that, thanks Rog,” “She took everything I said out of context, you have to believe me.” “We do, Y/N, we do,” John said softly from beside you, rubbing circles on your back. “It started well, I swear. Just the usual questions y’know, what’s it like working with Queen? How does it feel to be singing next to Freddie Mercury? Were you nervous about touring with them? Can you give us any hints about the new album? All the things that usually come up that Freddie coached me on how to answer, and I was doing fine. I had my prepared answers and there was no stumbling over words or anything like that. I thought I’d finally got the hang of it all and then she asked me to elaborate on what it was like working with you. I’d already told her the usual thing – it was fun and y’know blew my mind and all that. But then she asked how it compare to being your groupie.” “You didn’t answer her did you?” “Christ no, Brian! Jesus what do you take me for?” Brian held his hands up in apology. “I told her that it wasn’t relevant, but she kept asking, one question after another thrown at me and no matter what I said she didn’t stop. All sorts of stuff, like which of you was the best shag, and if I’d only wanted to be your groupie because I hoped it would lead to my own album, and if I was still offering my services,” you made air quotes around the words, “accused me of using you for my own gain and asked if you were the first band I’d tried it with or if you were just the only ones gullible enough to let me. I tried to tell her no and that I wasn’t going to answer those questions but she just kept going and then she told me to get used to the attention and left. I guess she didn’t need my answers to write a whole article about it.” “Which of us is the best shag?” Brian repeated the question though you suspected he wasn’t just checking he’d heard you correctly. The others all fell quiet, waiting to see if you’d answer. “Really Bri? That’s what you got from that?” “Right, right, sorry, not the important part. Look, it’s not as bad as you think it is.” “Bri’s right, love,” Roger said, much calmer than he had been before, “there’s nothing of substance in here. Like this quote, as for the fun Ms Y/L/N mentioned was had on tour, one can’t help but wonder just what she meant. Could the stories about nights spent playing boardgames be covers for debauched, drug-fuelled, orgies the likes of which would make a pornstar blush, I mean, there’s nothing there. It’s all conjecture and anyone worth a damn will see right through it.” “But some people will believe it,” “Maybe, yes,” Freddie said, “but it’ll blow over. We’ve all been in the same place you are at one time or another. If anything this officially makes you one of the band.” “Yeah, Y/N, it’s all just spiteful rubbish.” “Thanks guys, but I think I might just call it a day, go back to bed. Stay if you want, I don’t mind. But if you leave lock the door behind you.” You stood and headed to your bedroom.

The four boys stayed quiet until you were out of your room but you heard their hushed voices and hissed comments through your bedroom door as you pulled off your jeans and unclasped your bra from under the baggy jumper you wore. It took about five minutes before there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. “Y/N, can I come in?” You contemplated feigning sleep. “I know you’re not asleep.” You sighed and sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, “Fine, Roger, come in.” “Freddie’s gone to make some calls,” he said, standing just inside your doorway, hands in his pockets. “Calls about what? It’s out there now, there’s no getting it back.” “No but we need to make it clear to other journalists that those kinds of questions won’t be answered in any future interviews, and hopefully we can make sure that parasite never gets to come anywhere near us again.” “Isn’t that mean to parasites?” Roger chuckled, “getting over it already, see,” he sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on your covered knee, “I know this sucks, and I get that you’re ashamed, but I promise it’s not as bad as it feels right now.” “I’m not ashamed.” “What?” “You said I’m ashamed of it but I’m not.” “Oh. I thought-” “I’m a bit embarrassed because obviously I’ve never told my family what it is I got up to when I went to all those concerts and now they’re all going to know, lord knows some of them will believe the worst of it. And I’m pissed off that I didn’t stand up for myself more. I just let her keep cutting me off and talking over me when I should have told her to fuck off or at least called her out for being a prudish arsehole who probably only attacked me because she’s jealous I’ve fucked three quarters of Queen. And I’m annoyed that you’ve all been brought up in the article, and she’s questioning whether your good people just because you sept with me. I mean does she expect you all to be virginal saints or something? It’s just frustrating and yes, upsetting. But I’m definitely not ashamed.” “Huh, okay then.” “What?” “Nothing, just, we assumed you regretted sleeping with us.” “Lord no. It wasn’t planned, like she was insinuating, but seeping with you definitely helped me get my foot in the door with this whole music thing. And even if it hadn’t done that, it was still fun as hell and made me feel good. If I wasn’t fucking you I would have been out having mediocre sex with guys I met in pubs and I don’t care how much of a slut it makes me seem, but I’d rather fuck a whole band every single night and actually get off than have a disappointing drunk lay with a guy who’s never heard of the clitoris. Fuck, I’d still be doing the whole groupie thing now, and be perfectly happy with it, if Freddie hadn’t heard me singing that day. That night at the after party, that was heaps of fun.” “Give me a second would you,” Roger stood and walked to the door, giving you another glance before he turned the corner. You watched the doorway, not quite sure what to make of his behaviour but your questions were answered soon enough when he reappeared with Brian and John following. “So apparently we misread the situation,” Brian said, taking the seat Roger had just vacated. John sat cross legged at the end of your bed while Roger flopped onto the mattress beside you. “I can’t believe you’d think I regretted being your groupie. Have you met me?” “In our defence you seemed very upset, what were we meant to think?” “I had a shitty interview and got called a whore in a very public way, of course I’m upset. Doesn’t mean I regret anything.” “Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, we should have realised. But we have a proposition for you. We actually thought of a way to cheer you up when we first saw the magazine this morning but then when we got here you seemed so sad and we didn’t want to make you more upset or uncomfortable,” “What Brian is trying to say is that we have an idea we think you might like.” “Jesus will you two stop beating around the bush?” “Shut up Rog, I’m getting there.” “Y/N,” Roger said cutting off the others before they could waffle any longer, “Would you like to fuck us again?” You almost choked. “Zero tact. What he means is, we thought we could cheer you up. All three of us, entirely focused on making you forget that magazine.” “Wait, I’m confused,” you massaged the bridge of your nose as you tried to catch up to them, “you saw an article that called me a whore and thought it would cheer me up to, what, be your shared fucktoy again? Yeah it was fun but-” “No, no, no, that’s not what we mean,” John said, “you’d be in control of how it all happens. It wouldn’t be like last time.” “So, you’d be my whores?” “I guess?” “The point is,” Roger chimed in, “we want to make you feel better. If that means making you cups of tea and buying you a box of chocolates that’s fine. But it could also mean you having three cocks and all the orgasms you can handle.” You looked from Roger to John to Brian and then back again, trying to work out if they were joking or not. But they all seemed sincere enough for you to actually think about their proposition. It wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from them, and it hadn’t crossed your mind until they mentioned it. But now that they had, you had to admit it sounded fun. Last time had been fun and that was when you’d been passed around and used mercilessly, so having them all again, but with a bit more say in how it happened, could only be better. Plus, part of you wanted to prove how unashamed of your groupie history you were and what better way than this? “Okay, I’m in.”

“Do we need to set any ground rules?” Brian asked. “You all know my safeword,” “Saxophone,” You laughed at the chorus of eager voices, “Yes, exactly. Other than that I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Not like this is new exactly, is it?” “Well, no, I s’pose not.” “Exactly. And if there’s anything I don’t want I’ll tell you. So you’re,” you pointed at Roger, “going to kiss me now, while you two undress,” “Getting right to it, excellent,” Roger laughed, as he pushed himself closer to you. He didn’t waste any time, leaning in to kiss you right away. It started off a little too soft for your liking but as soon as soon as you made it clear how into it you were, kissing him back harder and pressing yourself closer, Roger reciprocated. His hands wandered down to your chest as you felt Brian and John get up, following your orders, their clothes left where they landed on the floor. Roger’s hands were soon replaced by Brian’s as he knelt behind you, and you found your head being pulled around so he could kiss you too. Roger took the opportunity to undress as Brian and John caught you between them. You couldn’t tell who was removing your clothes, only that once your jumper had been pulled over your head John was kissing you. He leaned back, tugging you along so Brian could pull your underwear off, his hands caressing your bare bum. “How do you want us?” John asked, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Um,” you looked around at the three very naked bandmates waiting for your word, “One of you is going to eat me out. Don’t care who but I am going to cum.” “Yes Ma’am,” John laughed, lazily saluting you before rolling you onto your back and shuffling down between your thighs. You were taken by surprise when you felt his tongue run between your lips, expecting nips on your thighs and the teasing puff of his breath as he hovered just out of your reach. But he was clearly taking the job of cheering you up seriously. Brian and Roger weren’t any different, settling into the spaces on either side of you, their light touches only enhancing the feeling John had set off. You felt their fingertips on your breasts and in the ends of your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine but not enough to make you gasp in pain. “So what would you like from us, love? What dirty little fantasies are going through your head right now?” Roger tapped his finger on the middle of your forehead. You opened your mouth but a small oh as John latched onto your clit replaced the words you’d been intending to say. “Think we’re going to need a little more than that, Y/N. C’mon, tell us what you want. Do you want us to just take turns fucking you, filling you up over and over and over.” “Or are you thinking more along the lines of last time? Taking two at a time because one cock isn’t quite enough for you now?” “Try three,” you managed to get out as you slid a hand into John’s hair to hold him in place, “want you all at once.” “Jesus,” Brian swore, dropping his lips to your neck. “I’ve been a piss-poor groupie considering the stories that reporter’s peddling. Everyone’s going to think I’ve been taking all three of you at once constantly, but we’ve never actually done that, have we? Might as well embrace my slut title and change that,” “Let us work up to it, Love” Roger said softly, recapturing your lips as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. You whined, partly from Roger and Brian’s attention and partly because John raised his head, your hips rising slightly at the loss. “Guess I should start stretching you out then,” he said offhandedly as he licked his fingers, the same way you’d seen him do a hundred times before while playing. You couldn’t stop the moan that rose up in your throat, the sound only making John chuckle against you as he lowered his head and resumed his focus on your clit.

It only took a few more minutes to have you swearing through your first orgasm. The two fingers John had inside you enough to send you over the edge as they brushed against every sensitive spot they could reach. Your neck tingled where Brian had marked it and your nipples were stiff peaks, extra sensitive to cool air after he and Roger had delighted in torturing them with teeth and tongue and fingertips. “How was that?” John asked, slowly withdrawing his fingers when he was satisfied you’d finished. “Fuck,” was all you could say, the three boys laughing, John dropping a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Think you can handle more?” “Actually Bri I think I might be done,” “Oh. Really?” “I’m kidding.” “Thank Christ. I’m so fucking hard there’s no way I could get my pants back on anyway.” You laughed and pushed yourself to sit up, “Poor thing. I suppose you can use my cunt for a bit.” “Classic guitarists always getting first go,” “Shut it drum boy, I was about to offer to blow you but if you’re going to be like that,” “No, no, I didn’t say anything.” “He did Y/N, I heard him, blow me instead,” “Ignore Deaks, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” “Like a couple of – oh!” you were cut off as Brian grabbed you round the middle and wrenched you onto your hands and knees, “children. A little warning next time please,” “Sorry,” Brian leaned forward to kiss your back as his fingers trailed up the inside of your thigh, “but if I didn’t move this along we’d be stuck arguing about who gets to blow who forever.” “N-no we wouldn’t,” you stumbled over your words as Brian’s long, talented fingers pressed into you, “I made up my mind, Rog in my throat.” “What about me?” “Don’t worry Deaks, you’ll get your turn. If you want you can spank me though, or bite me or pull my hair or whatever else you can think of. You know my limits. Also we’ll need lube so if you want to go digging through my bathroom draws and find some you can. Might be a reward in it if you do.” “Spankher, please,” Brian nearly whined, “always makes her cunt so tight.” “Think I’d rather claim that reward thanks” “Alright then I’ll spank her,” “Guys! Can you stop arguing. I have holes enough for all of you, that’s kind of the point of this. And, Brian and Roger, if I don’t get both of your cocks deep, deep inside me within the next thirty seconds I will kick you both out and let John have his way with me on repeat.” A moment of silence accompanied your statement. You saw Roger, eyes wide, look over at John and then to Brian, and could only assume they were returning his dumbfounded look. “Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven,” Roger blinked as if waking from a daydream and hurried to kneel in front of you, one hand gliding over the length of his cock as the other reached for your hair. Your mouth fell open in a gasp as Brian suddenly filled you, holding your hips tight as he bottomed out, which gave Roger enough opportunity to push himself towards the back of your throat. There was a shift in the mattress as John got up but you were a little too preoccupied to hear the door open and shut or the sound of him rummaging through your bathroom. You only realised he’d returned when a sudden, loud spank hit you and you knew Brian’s hands were still occupied with your hips. For their parts, Roger and Brian were keeping you busy, skewered between them, not sure whether the noises coming from your own throat were moans or gags or wordless begging. Brian breathlessly laughed as John spanked you again, “So fucking tight. Bit harder?” “Y/N?” You made an assenting humming noise and nodded as much as Roger’s cock would allow which John rightly took as permission and so hit you again, harder than the last.

It was an intoxicating feeling, taking two cocks at once, all the while wanting more and knowing you’d have it before long. Brian fucked you hard and precise, as if his goal was to split you open from the inside out. Had it just been him and you alone you would have found yourself creeping further up the bed. It had happened a few times before, leaving you either hanging off the edge of the bed, or with your hands over your head and pressed against a wall in an effort to keep from banging your head. But all he managed to do was push you further onto Roger’s cock, making you gag and choke more often. Roger didn’t seem to mind that though, giving as good as Brian, firmly gripping your hair so that you couldn’t even attempt to move off him. The added impact from John’s hand just made you shiver and moan. He was the one who sensed you were getting close though, reaching under you to rub your clit and give you the extra push you needed to get over the edge. Brian wasn’t too far behind you, groaning as he tried to keep fucking you, his hips faltering as he twitched inside you and spilled his seed. You felt his hands on your backside as he spread your cheeks, leaning down to spit on your arsehole before he pulled out of you. Once Brian was finished with you, you tapped Roger’s thigh and he pulled back. “You okay?” he asked, stroking your cheek with a knuckle. “Brilliant, just thought that since I can move a bit easier, I’d take over. You look like you were close.” “Fucking yes I was close,” You giggled as you readjusted your position to be more comfortable, once again taking Roger’s cock between your lips. This time you pushed yourself lower, taking him deeper, making Roger swear above you. You pulled back again, hollowing your cheeks until you sank down once more. A strangled moan seemed to catch in Roger’s throat and it spurred you on. You reached out to cups his balls, massaging them in your hand as you took him as deep as you could and hummed. The hum turned into something akin to a squeal (though slightly muffled and choked off at the end) as the sticky cool of John’s lube covered finger teased your arsehole, tracing circles around it before slowly sinking into you. The sight seemed to be enough to finish Roger off, one hand on the back of your head to steady himself as he shot his load down your throat, pulling out towards the end so the last of it dribbled down your chin. “Now me?” John asked, pushing a second finger in with the first as Roger let you go. “Stretch me out a little more and then yes,” “Oh, no, I’m not ready for that yet. I want your tits.” “What?” “Your tits, Y/N. Turn around,” His fingers left you and you were free to move, shuffling on your knees to face him. John pressed down on your shoulder pushing you to sit back on your knees and adjusting your angle so he could slide his lubed up shaft between your breasts. He pushed them together with his palms and slid them up and down his dick as he rutted against you, spreading the sticky lube over your chest. With a slight smile at John, you dipped your head a little and kissed the tip of his cock as it moved towards your lips. “Fuck, been waiting so long for this,” he groaned, “gon-na make a mmm-ess all over you.” He gave up on speech as he neared his released, communicating exclusively in grunts and increased speed until he finished, covering your chest and sternum in ropes of cum that dripped down your skin.

You laughed as John fell back. The hardest you could remember laughing in a while. “What’s so funny?” Brian asked, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “Just thought what that reporter would say if she could see me now, naked and dripping in spunk,” you managed to get out between giggles, “her face would be fucking priceless.” The boys laughed along with you, glad you could see the funny side of the situation with the article. “Does that mean you’re feeling better?” “Yes Rog, but I’m still not done with you.” “What did you have in mind?” “Well,” you crawled over to where Roger was sitting, leant back on his hands, and placed your hand on his throat, tilting his face away from you a little so you could lick a long stripe from his jaw to his temple, “I meant it when I said I wanted all of you.” “Never doubted it, love,” he sounded a little breathless. “Just let me know when you’re all ready to go again. Not you Rog, I can see you’re ready.” “I’m good too Y/N,” “Yeah, same,” “In that case,” you shifted your position, lining yourself up with Roger and sinking down on him, squeezing his throat a little harder as you adjusted. “John, you still got that lube?” “Yes, uh, yeah here,” there was the sound of a cap flipping open and you leaned forward encouraging Roger to lay back so you could give John better access. “Hey, Rog, can you spread your legs a little wider,” “S’pose so, just don’t kneel on my bollocks or anything,” “God give me a second, the thought of that just made mine try and jump up inside me,” You giggled as John shuffled closer, using his fingers to spread some more of the lube over you and to keep stretching you out. “What about me, Y/N?” “I haven’t forgotten you Bri. I want every inch of your cock shoved so far down my throat I can feel you for a week. Just let me get used to the others first, yeah? Still feels kinda odd having two of you at once since we’ve not done it much.” Brian nodded, contenting himself with running his fingers through your hair as he waited. John, having pulled his fingers from you and slicked up his dick with more lube, sank into you slowly, his hand on your back to keep you bent forward. It suddenly felt hard for you to pull in a new breath as you tried to adjust to the feeling of both of them, especially when John gave an experimental thrust, fucking you slowly to make sure it felt okay for everyone. Brian talked softly, reminding you to breathe and telling you how well you were doing, until you were better in control of your lungs and ready for more. “Are you sure you want me as well?” “Yes. Lets show that parasite just how far I’ll go, huh?” Roger laughed, “that’s the spirit.”

Brian didn’t need more convincing than that, though it did take a little trial and error to find the best way to accommodate all three of them. Brian tried perching his arse on the headboard but Roger whinged about “seeing nothing but Bri’s ballsack flopping about. And I know you see things when you’re gangbanging but that is too much.” In the end Brian stood next to the bed by Roger’s head, enough to the side that Roger’s view wasn’t impeded but still close enough so that the angle wouldn’t strain your neck. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail as he pulled your mouth onto his cock, letting you work yourself further down his shaft as slowly as you needed, checking in with you every now and again to make sure you could take more. The other two were mostly still as you adjusted to Brian, though once or twice they’d given a small thrust or shifted slightly and made you whine. Once you had Brian buried as deep in your throat as he could go you paused for a few seconds and then pulled back again, strings of saliva breaking on your lips. “How was that?” “Good,” you gasped, “New. Kinda weird but very fucking good.” That didn’t really explain anything but you weren’t sure how to describe the nearly overwhelming fullness, the sudden heat, the tension in your belly which you couldn’t pinpoint as either anticipation or nerves or just because you were stretched open on three cocks. “And that’s without us doing anything,” “I know,” you grinned, “I’m excited. Why didn’t we try this sooner? But now you guys can cut loose. I’m not sure I’ll be much use in like riding you properly or whatever. Just don’t know my brain can focus on keeping both of you in my holes while I’m thinking about blowing Bri well. So, just fuck me however you can and we’ll see how it goes.” “Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel good,” John said, rubbing your back softly. “Yeah, course we will, love. And if ends up being shit then we can just take turns instead,” You nodded and took a deep breath before leaning forward to take Brian again. You controlled the pace once more, bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking on his tip, as the other two figured out their rhythm. It was a strange sensation to start. It felt clumsy and more than a little awkward, especially when John mentioned how he could feel Roger inside you. But that eased as they adjusted and worked out how best to fuck you. John held your hips as he plunged into you, each thrust harder than the last as his confidence rose and he found out what you liked most. Roger’s hands moved over your skin rather than staying in once place, palming your breasts and teasing your nipples between his fingertips before sliding down your side to grasp your waist and then back up to your breasts. You were rocked on his cock with each of John’s pounding thrusts, which only made you moan around Brian’s. You let instinct take over there, one hand stroking from his base up to meet your lips as you swallowed him deeper. His hips jolted when you whined or moaned and before long you dropped your hand away from his shaft, instead grabbing his arse to keep yourself steady. He pulled you off him again and you could feel the spit on your chin. “Forgot what a fucking incredible cocksucker you are.” Brian groaned, “But can I take over? Fuck your throat?” “Yeah, okay,” You had time for another breath and then you were pushed down again, right to the base. “There we go,” he groaned, pulling on your hair, “Gonna make you feel so fucking good.” Your hum was choked off and ended in a gag as Brian ground his hips into your face. That seemed to be the tipping point though. The moment all three of them forgot about awkward views or who was positioned where and became entirely consumed with fucking you deep and hard. You were glad to let them lead, grabbing you, pinching and pulling and squeezing every inch of you they could reach. And all the while spearing you on their dicks, keeping you in a cycle of mounting pleasure as they found all your most responsive spots inside and out. You felt your orgasm building again, the heat rising, getting more urgent as you got closer and closer. The sounds you made were muffled by Brian but that didn’t stop you making them, moaning with every pounding thrust. As you neared the edge Brian pulled you off his cock so they could all hear you properly, their encouragement mixing in your lust addled brain and creating a wall of noise that pushed you over the edge with a loud cry. And yet they didn’t stop. Brian waited until your orgasm was reduced to aftershocks that made you wince and whine and then cut off your air as he entered your throat again, resuming the long, deep strokes that made you gag until he came, holding you down as he emptied himself completely.

As soon as the other two didn’t have to worry about giving Brian access to your mouth they adjusted your position, John pushing on your back until you were bent over. Roger attached his lips to your throat as they simultaneously fucked into you, the change of angle pushing Roger’s cock against you in a way that had you seeing spots. You cried out again as Brian lay a slap on your arse. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” John grunted as he came too, unable to hold out any longer though he didn’t withdraw from you either. His hips slowed a bit and he whined softly but he kept fucking you. “Rog,” you panted, trying to get him to finish too. “You’ve got another one in you, c’mon love,” You whined but nodded, the familiar sensation already tightening in the pit of your stomach. Again the three of them encouraged you, John wrapping his hand around your waist to find your clit, Brian reaching under you to squeeze your breast as his other hand came down on your arse again. They gave you no option but to cum, shivering between them. Finally Roger let go too, moaning into your ear as he filled you up.

It took a moment to disentangle everyone, John being careful not to go too fast and hurt you, but finally you were able to collapse together, sweaty and panting, spread out over the room. “So, cheered up now?” Brian asked from where he’d lain down on the carpet You peered over the edge of the bed at him, “Think so. Thanks for that, it was fun.” “Any time, love,” Roger chuckled from the end of the bed, patting your knee, “and I mean that.” “I’m not you groupie anymore,” “Never said you were,” “Then what?” “What Rog means,” John cut in from where he’d spread out on you window seat, “is that if you ever need cheering up or to let out some frustrations, we’re here. We’re happy to help,” “Does your help always involve a gangbang?” “Not always,” Brian laughed. “Well, a lot of the time,” Roger added with a wink. “I’ll keep it in mind,” you chuckled, “I’ll have to face my family at some point and there’s a high chance I’ll leave upset and frustrated so, we’ll see. Wonder how Freddie’s getting on with those calls.” “I’ll go give him a ring and find out,” Roger said, half groaning as he stood and stretched. He didn’t bother grabbing any of his discarded clothes before he left. “I’ll take Rog his pants,” John sighed as he got up and replaced his own underwear, exiting the room with an eyeroll, Roger’s underwear pinched between his thumb and pointer. “And I’ll...stay here?” Brian said, “unless you need anything?” “Nah, I’m going to jump in the shower. Let the other two know that’s where I am, would you?” “If you’re doing that, can I have the bed?” “Sure Bri,” you laughed, “as long as you promise to change the sheets when you wake up.”

#my writing #my fics #queen fanfic #queen smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #brian may x reader #brian may smut #john deacon x reader #john deacon smut

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