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hwaightme · 1 year

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Your fan, Jongho (part 1)

(part 2) (your fan ml)

⚽pairing: jongho x footballer!gn!reader ⚽summary: a bulletpoint-style drabble of what it would be like to have jongho stanning you. part two here ⚽wordcount: 1.4k ⚽warnings/tags: unedited, jongho falling fast, you are a football prodigy, hongjoong lowkey is a wingman, jongho hiding feelings, sports, football, cute romance, overall wholesome vibes (lmk if anything isn't here) ⚽a/n: thank you so much for all the support and kindness <3 here is a bit of a brainwave I had, which may or may not turn into a series for all members (think "Your fan, _____)~

An avid football fan, he was proud to know the names of any new players who were making the rounds as rising stars

While casually viewing highlights of the team that won the national championship not long ago, he took note of you.

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, you were a fresh face on the field for him.

Recently you took the sports world by storm, having qualified for major championships an really moving up in the ranks to become a renowned forward.

Jongho, along with many of your team's fans, could not help but be captivated by you.

For him, it was your perseverance that did it. And the way the uniform looked on you but that is BESIDES THE POINT

He would never say that. Only hard work, professionalism and... oh no did he have a celebrity crush?

Was this how ATINY felt????

He was in a blur while he went down the YouTube spiral, starting by watching one of your most recent post-match interviews, and never quite finishing his deep dive because there were always more videos to watch.

Probably nobody would ever know that he was indifferent to you; as in, he was more than watching you and your team play.

He was cheering YOU on, knowing the training you did and the tough challenges you overcame. Cheering YOU on because he knew unlike any other what it was like to have the world scrutinizing you.

Cheering YOU on because that was what his heart felt inclined to do. Jongho had a separate football account, and even though he did not really interact with other fans, it gave him exactly what he wanted - the ability to live out his fanboy dreams, be it football overall or to learn more about you.

Actually went to see the matches you have been announced to play in, if time allowed.

Though either way he knew he would enjoy it because, well, he likes the sport, if you weren't playing since first half-time he hated to admit but he'd pay a little less attention.

This man had learned your club's songs and fanchants, hands down. Easy as pie.

Okay so he was still a tiny bit in denial about having a full-blown crush on you because "why would he experience any sort of affection towards someone he has never met"

Almost got caught by the other members when he was smiling proudly at his phone screen, rewatching an advertisement you recently starred in, kind of in the fashion: "look at my bias go, they are so amazing I cannot believe that I have the opportunity to watch!!!!!"

But he was prepared - so he quickly switched to some ATINY edit from one of their shows as soon as he saw someone attempting to creep up behind him; deception 100

Then came the fateful day, one during which his heart actually flip-flopped, did a spin and soared like his high notes.

A video interview with you for a magazine had been released, and for some reason or other ATEEZ kept on being bombarded with it on twitter. It got to the point where even the totally ‘football indifferent’ members were curious.

The next few minutes were excruciating for Jongho – squeezed between San and Yeosang, the group gathered around to check what the fuss was about, or whether it was just ATINY going a tad... enthusiastic after the comeback, for fun.

The adrenaline rush that accompanied trying not to reveal his excitement was eating Jongho from the inside. You were literally going into depth about your childhood dreams and motivations, how you trained and what you were hoping for in the future.

So far so… normal? Only Jongho was hyped (even though he had a poker face on)

BUT THEN

The interview moved in a musical direction. The magazine enjoyed presenting what celebrities listen to in their free time or when going about their day, so they always asked what the top tracks of their interviewees were.

And you being the legend you are, after thinking about “what song has been playing on repeat recently when you are in the gym?”, said “Well, Guerrilla by ATEEZ is fantastic. I have been listening to that quite a bit.”

It was at this moment all members lost their minds

Woop-wooping, screaming and hollering, they were punching each other’s shoulders

You, an internationally sought-after player, rising star in football, completely unrelated their world just so happened to listen to their music?

Jongho was on cloud nine

But seeing as you were continuing to talk, aggressively shushed at the rest of his members

“The power and passion in their music in general is unreal. Like take this song. That high note, on ‘flashing light’, going into the chorus… makes me run double-speed.”

“Have you been to their concerts?”

“Not yet, unfortunately, but hopefully stars will align.” And that was that. Jongho was offered congratulatory pats on the back for having his part be mentioned. No wonder ATINY were spamming their social media accounts.

Jongho waited until everyone is back to chaotic neutral to slink away into his dorm room and rewatch the video again. And again. A gummy smile not leaving his face.

That was when he got a thousand lightbulbs flashing above his head – rushing, he asked his manager if it was okay for ATEEZ to follow you on social media, talking some nonsense about ‘possibly adding more popularity and going with the trend’… the details did not matter, he got what he wanted and was really giddy about it.

Soon enough, your official account was also following them back. (the crowd goes wild)

If only he could see you, in the backseat of a car with your agent, squealing in excitement when you saw THE notification pop up. You shook the living daylights out of them, continuously pointing at your screen and repeating “OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOSH DO YOU SEE WHO IS FOLLOWING ME ATEEZ IS FOLLOWING ME OHMYGOSHICANNOTHOWISTHISREAL”

Unbeknownst to you, your agent was already liaising with the right people at KQ to potentially arrange an informal meeting – yes, you were lucky you had them working with you. You down-played just how much you listened to ATEEZ while preparing for matches but could not help mentioning your respect for the idols.

It worked out well because suddenly ticket sales for your next match went up? And generally, publicity was looking good? Agents were not mad at all.

Fast-forward a couple of weeks, and after a brilliant match with you scoring the winning goal on the 91st minute, you had the chance to meet your number one fan.

Jongho had no idea how he was fortunate enough to have this arranged for him – apparently he was almost not allowed to go, with some staff stating that Hongjoong should be the one to do the networking, but Hongjoong, being the captain, and having caught on that Jongho was a lot more ‘involved’ with your activities than anybody else, demanded the maknae to represent ATEEZ.

The man was over the moon when greeting you in person for the first time. Though you did not have much time to talk, nor could you dive into anything that would reveal your mutual pining seeing as you had whole armies of staff floating around you, photographers and videographers around every corners… both of you had a great time.

You felt as though he understood you without any extensive explanations needed. Not only was he knowledgeable about the sport, but he was just… so attentive and gentlemanly.

As more people were leaving the stadium and the changing rooms, finally you had a moment of quiet to yourselves. And in that exact moment, Jongho sharply inhaled and produced, seemingly OUT OF NOWHERE, the most recent ATEEZ album.

He was not sure whether to gift you the album or a Lightiny, but chose the former to be less ‘imposing’ and risking to force fandomship upon you or something. Pretty much went full rumination-station, which was quite unlike him.

Either way you would have been incredibly grateful and would have displayed the present on one of your shelves. The fact that someone you admired and who you felt admired you was thoughtful enough to bring anything made you soft.

Grinning wide, you wished each other success for the future and hoped to meet again soon.

Which was MUCH sooner than you would have imagined. Since once you got home and opened the album, a neatly folded piece of paper fell out with a cute note from Jongho and his personal number.

Now that is a clean goal.

a/n: thank you for reading! Here is part 2

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morbific-or-felicific · 2 years

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-KUEBIKO Featuring Childe

Meaning: a state of exhaustion inspired by an act of senseless violence, which forces you to revise your image of what can happen in this world

Word Count: 1.4k~

Description: Childe coming home very injured and having to take care of him

Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach

Join The Tag List

You could already tell there was something wrong. It had been hours since Childe should have been home. Archons, if he had gotten killed you’d kill him.

Childe was rarely home late. He liked coming home before his day got too long. In your time living with your boyfriend, there had been a total of 12 times that he had come home late, and there were even fewer times that it hadn’t been because of some kind of disaster he had either caused or gotten stuck in, and nearly all of those times it had been due to the fact that he had gotten distracted while on a mission to fulfill one of his siblings’ wishes after he was done with his work.

Gods you hoped he was looking for a figurine for Teucer and not causing property damage.

You had been waiting by the door for Childe to come back for nearly three hours now, nervously pacing back and forth, waiting for some sign of life. Finally, the front door opened, and you were overjoyed to know that your boyfriend was indeed okay, and- oh no, why was he covered in blood? You looked the man up and down, checking for any major injuries, trying not to get caught up with any ‘minor’ scrapes or scratches. He was leaning against the doorframe, trying to steady himself, both of his hands pressed to his side, seemingly trying to slow some bleeding from what looked to possibly be a stab wound.

He smiled at you.

“Hello my love, I’m sorry I’m late, I got held up at work.”

You snapped out of your daze and rushed towards the harbinger. Surprisingly enough, he actually accepted your help and limped forward, now using you as a support to stay upright.

“What happened to you…?” You were almost afraid to ask.

“Ah you know just- gods that hurts, just tried to fight another harbinger to have a little bit of- ah, fuck, a little bit of fun haha…okay maybe it was two other harbingers.”

Now in the living room, you dropped him lowered him to the sofa as gently as you could, but he still let out a loud groan of pain at the sudden movement.

“Ah, archons, ha that doesn’t feel too good.”

“Did they do all of this to you?”

“Yes, unfortunately they did. Turns out Pantalone doesn’t take too kindly to being called a weak old man and Arlecchino… well she doesn’t take too kindly to me.”

You sighed.

“I’ll be right back, I just have to get the first aid kit, alright?”

“Love, no, it’s alright. I just need to sit down for a second.”

“Childe, you’re covered in blood!”

“In my defence, not all of the blood is mine!”

“Take your clothes off you idiot, I'll be right back.”

“Woah now, I’d love to fuck you darling, but I’m unfortunately a bit too banged up for that at the moment.” :)

“That’s not what I meant!” you yelled as you walked into the other room to look for the first aid kit.

By the time you got back to the living room, you’d found a cloth, a small bucket of warm water, and the first aid kit you’d been searching for. Thankfully for you, Childe had taken off his pants and his shirt, revealing just how badly injured he really was. You stopped and stared for a second due to how hot he was covered in blood just how badly he was banged up.

He looked like he had been punched in the face once or twice, judging by his black eye. He had several cuts that looked to be from either knives or a sword (it was hard to tell), and he had what looked to be a shallow stab wound on his left side as well as a slightly less serious gash on his right thigh. This is, of course, not counting the numerous scrapes and bruises littering his body and the fact that he looked like someone had practically poured blood on him.

You grabbed a chair and moved it so you could sit in front of Childe in order to start fixing him up.

“You don’t need to do all this, you know. I’ll be just fine.”

“Of course I have to. You could barely walk over here.”

“It’s not all that bad. You don’t need to be so serious, I’m just a bit banged up.”

“You got stabbed, Childe!”

“Only a little bit!”

You rolled your eyes and started wiping the blood from his torso while he leaned back into the couch. Oh god there was going to be blood on the couch now…damn, you really didn’t want to have to buy a new one…. You let your mind run as you continued cleaning the blood off of your boyfriend in order to see how bad the shallow stab wound really was.

Childe watched as you ran the warm washcloth over his skin. He really wasn’t prepared for how badly he was going to lose the fight with Pantalone and Arlecchino. While he stumbled home after the fight he had been trying to think of how he could explain the state he was in to you. He knew you’d be worried, that was a given, but he didn’t expect you to have tears threatening to spill from your eyes while you gently cleaned him up.

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

“I’m just…you don’t take care of yourself well enough, and I’m scared you’ll let things get too far…”

“I can handle myself, love, you don’t have to worry so much.”

“You’re such an idiot, of course I have to worry!”

“Hey! No need to be so harsh.”

“You’re reckless and don’t care enough about your safety.”

Any protests died in his throat as you returned to cleaning him up.

When you had finally finished cleaning off the blood from his abdomen, it was clear how bad the stab wound was. It was deep enough to be a problem and blood was still slowly draining from it onto your couch, perfect. You took out some antiseptic wipes to disinfect it, but as soon as Childe saw what you were doing, he was already trying to stand to escape you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at the ginger struggling on your couch.

“I don’t want you to disinfect it, it’s gonna hurt!”

“You got stabbed and this is where you draw the line at too painful?!”

“Yes!”

“Stop moving and let me do this, idiot.”

He stopped his attempts to stand up and relaxed on the couch, starting to pout. You had expected to hear yelling or crying when you started cleaning the wound, but instead he was silent, just calmly letting you do your task. At least you thought he was calm until you were almost finished and you heard a loud crack. You looked up to see an embarrassed Childe who wouldn’t make eye contact with you.

After a few seconds of swiveling your head to see where the noise had come from, your eyes landed on the armrest of the couch where Childe’s hand had been resting. The armrest was bent at such an incorrect angle that any hope you had of your couch being salvageable was immediately shattered.

“I’ll uh, I’ll buy a new one.”

“A new armrest?”

“A new couch, idiot. If you want a better reason to replace it we can always see how badly we could break it while having some fun after this.” he was smirking at you now.

“What happened to being too banged up to fuck me?”

“Pfft, that’s in the past, I’m talking about now.”

“’Now’ you have an open stab wound.”

He laughed a bit before wincing at the pain it caused as you finished up disinfecting his wound. You continued to clean him up, putting gauze on his wound and starting to disinfect the injury on his thigh while he sat there trying not to curse. It scared you whenever he’d come home hurt, but it was especially bad this time. All you wanted was for the idiotic harbinger to stay safe. He’d been through enough already. He didn’t need to be out there causing himself more pain and suffering.

You finished fixing him up the best you could and helped him limp into your bedroom to lay down. He looked exhausted. Maybe it would be best to let him sleep, or maybe you should bring him some soup? While you were considering what to do to help your beat up boyfriend, you heard quiet, steady breaths coming from the bed, and upon further inspection, Childe had already fallen asleep. Maybe you would just make him a nice breakfast tomorrow instead of soup.

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @yourlocal-bunny

morbific-or-felicific

#mae’s daily paper☕️*•̊ⴰ✧#childe.❣︎•*✧ ̊ⴰ #felicific.mae☀︎*•̊ⴰ✧#i restarted this so many times and i wrote half of it while i was asleep this morning so if it suck’s don’t come for me #childe x reader #childe fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact

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bluberimufim · 3 months

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Writer Q&A Tag Game

Hello. I got tagged for this by @squarebracket-trick on this post and I thought it sounded super fun. So, here we are!

1. What motivates you to write?

I started out as an artist, but I began writing once I realized that visual art as a medium wasn't enough to tell the stories I wanted to tell - it had no way of codifying lore, defining character traits, or even just easily telling a long story. I think it's still largely that, in a way. I come up with all these stories and I "get them out" through writing because I sure as hell can't keep them inside my brain for eternity.

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

This one is pretty recent, from a few chapters ago in DoS, but I'm really proud of it. I just feel like it emphasizes how much Seth's experience with souls connects with the body, which is the Goddess of Time's domain. A lot of metaphors in this story centre around bodies and physicality because of this. Here's the snippet:

And yet, there was Theo, with her soul so unwound there was no fixing it anymore. The most she could do was keep healing and healing, covering the cracks of the bowl with her own hands in the hope that they'd go back to normal. Keep filling the ocean so that, no matter how many holes lined its bed, it would never be empty. [...] She held her so tight she thought her hands would fuse to her skin. As if she could cover the cracks of her soul with her own body.

Idk, I just vibe with it.

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

(what happened to 3 and 4? where did they go?)

I'd say back-and-forth banter, probably because of my time in theatre, but also horror description. It creeps up on me. I keep writing horror on accident. And I always really like it. Just something about describing something weird and spooky.

6. What do you enjoy most about the Writeblr community?

Mostly the fact that there's all these other writers who have cool stuff and also wanna see my cool stuff. I already loved writing on my own, but knowing that there are people Out There who also care about my stories just feels amazing.

And also, the casual friendship between people. You interact with someone's blog, they interact with yours, and you suddenly feel like you're friends, kinda. I can only compare it to making quick friends with someone on the playground as a kid. I like it <3

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech-to-text, a writing program etc)

I am a very ✨analogue✨ person, so my best writing advice in this scenario is always: put that shit on paper.

Feel unsure about a scene? Put that shit on paper. It's like a 0.5th (hehe "halfth") draft that you will copy onto your document and you will always improve it with that second look.

Worried about perfectionism? Put that shit on paper. Even pencil, at least to me, feels hard to erase. It's mostly about living with the stuff you've written and not looking back - erasing is such a pain in the ass that you might as well just keep going forward.

Wanna write secretly during class/lectures/whatever where you're not allowed to have a device? Wadda ya know, the answer is also paper.

Wanna edit? Printing stuff out helps you get some distance from your own writing and it also makes you see it more as a book than as just something you've made.

It also generally makes you feel less bad about changing stuff later in the document, because you have a solid, physical record of what you've written before.

Put that shit on paper. It works well.

(sorry for the rant sbdhagjk)

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

I once made a post about the art movements in the world of the dystopia WIP (yes, seriously) but I can't find it anymore. I'm not gonna explain it again, it was stupidly long the first time around.

I guess, outside the dystopia WIP, I'm pretty proud of the whole Three Sister Goddesses thing from DoS. I have drawn designs, but I'll make another post sometime. I'm also proud of the relationship between the Goddesses tho.

They're at war with each other, but they're just doing it for entertainment. They kiiiinda hate each other but not as much as their desire to have fun. Like, they will send their daughters to decimate each other's armies, but they'll also hang out together in the Plane of the Gods. The war is kind of like a decades-long game of Monopoly they're having at the family function. And I just think it's cool. Goes into that whole thing about mortals being like ants to uncaring gods that I like.

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Kinda cliché, but I'd say this: it happens to everyone, dude (gender neutral). Everyone has periods of time when they feel bad and can't write. Or where they feel like their writing is terrible. Doesn't make you less of a writer.

Even if you're not as productive as other people: who cares, honestly? As long as you're having a good time and doing something you love, it doesn't matter how much time you need or don't need to finish something. Even if you never finish anything. And if you feel like you're not as good as other people: who cares either, you know? Everybody starts somewhere. And everybody has different strengths. You'll get better. You always do.

At the end of the day, we're all just doing this because we love it. Don't force yourself. The time will pass anyway.

Ooooookay that last one was a bit more serious than the rest. Anyway, I wanna tag, no pressure, @fleurtygurl @stesierra @cheeto-flavoured-pasta and @sarandipitywrites

#writeblr #writing #tag game #ramblies

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ohchosen · 1 month

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GET TO KNOW THE WRITER - VAL EDITION !

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have? i first played ffxv back in the fall of 2017 and fell head over heels in love with the game. to this day i don’t think there’s ever been a cast of characters that’s had such a lasting impact on me as the boys have, and at this point ever will. i actually first started off writing prompto, sometime in early 2018 and shortly thereafter kind of fizzled out of that because i was new and super shy and didn’t really know anyone in the community. i was around 18/19 then and actually took a break from tumblr for a little while, but always kept in touch with the xv community on twitter/instagram so the love i had never went away. fast forward to 2020 and after replaying the game i decided to pick up noctis who at that point had been my end all comfort character for a few years. he very quickly became my little pincushion and then unintentionally a processing tool i used to process a lot of issues in my own life. i notice a lot of nuance in my old notes and ramblings that 100% reflect my struggles at that time and its like huh! wow! didnt know it did that. regardless, noctis is the muse i hold most dearly to my heart and someone i will love for the rest of my life. < he 3

is there anything you don’t like to write? ive seen it all brother. i can be convinced with one skimmed over ao3 tag and then some. regardless, i don’t have any hard no’s that aren’t the incredibly obvious, and i think rp is a great way to develop and analyze your likes and dislikes in a safe environment. it’s okay to be into something in one thread and then change your mind later, that’s something i had to learn the long way but i'm better off for it!

is there anything you really enjoy writing? i really love angst. not sure what happened developmentally to get here but we’re here. i think that shows a lot in my preferred range of media i write in (or just consume casually,) there’s just a certain…. je ne sai quoi 🤌 in writing your character going through the absolute extremes of the human experience. besides that, i really go crazy with character analysis/general meta. i love to deep dive into mundane (or otherwise) aspects of a character and build up traits to fully flesh out a muse.

do you write in silence or do you play music? i need complete silence or i will literally never finish a sentence. i am way too scatterbrained to focus on two things at once and need to lock the fuck in when i’m writing a reply.

do you plan your replies or wing them? who do i look like shakespeare. i’ve never planned out a thing in my life im consistently operating strictly off vibes.

do you enjoy shipping? im a dirty little shipping whore. shipping is god's gift to the planet what else would i do if not daydream about my two little guys passionately kissing in a field of wheat.

what’s your alias/name? val :3 my psn tag is a variant of valkyrie, and after i was tired of my old alias i looked there for inspiration. say thank you god of war (2018) for shooting me into another norse mythology frenzy, feels just like middle school.

age & birthday? my golden birthday is this july (25th)!!! ((mild existential dread))

favorite color? green, brown, black and purple❗️

favorite song? recently rediscovered since u been gone by kelly clarkson. having daily religious experiences for it.

last movie you watched? lord i have no idea. i don’t watch too many movies and the last one i can place is catching the second half of 47 meters down when i was having dinner with my dad a few weeks ago. yay sharks. and mandy moore!!!!

last show you watched? i love a good netflix documentary and i just finished one called the program: cons, cults and kidnapping, which was about exposing the troubled teen industry. it’s a super interesting watch but deals with quite a few heavy topics so if you’re interested please heed caution! i also just started american nightmare, but im only about 30-ish minutes into the first episode…. gotta lock in.

last song you listened to? according to spotify it was safari song by greta van fleet but according to the fortnite festival session i just had it was carry on my wayward son by kansas. literal war flashbacks.

favourite food? dude there’s this fucking sandwich place by my house and they literally make the best chicken sandwich i’ve ever had. imagine grilled chicken on a brioche bun w cheddar, bacon, a corn salsa and slathered in chili aioli. walk with me. it sounds wack but it’s SO GOOD. i dream about her…

favorite season? i love winter i love being cold and tucked into my electric blanket listening to the rain outside. all of you summertime elitists need to get off my lawn.

do you have a tumblr best friend? i have my gaggle of tumblr friends turned irl friends in my pockets at all time and i wouldn’t trade any of them for the world. i met one of my oldest friends in ye olde supernatural rp back in 2013? and over ten years later WE’RE STILL FUCKING HERE. so many of the most important people in my life i’ve met through tumblr and the amount of shit we've seen through the rpc's we've been in has bonded us all for eternity lmfao.

tagged by: @13nth thank u tea my love :* tagging: my homies @sherez @tactition @liegacy + anyone who's interested :3

#* ˖ · 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 — local man ruins everything .#long post /#DAMN #damn didnt mean to infodump like that do u still like me

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littlerosetrove · 2 months

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Because I am looking forward to the new season and much of my dash is excited too, fair warning that my following thought can be seen as negative, so I'll tag accordingly.

Ready? Ok.

So I saw a spoiler that the sperm donor storyline is going to make some kind of appearance in season 7. If you've been around since last year when season 6 was airing, you'll know that I wasn't really a fan of that storyline. I know it worked for some, but I'm just not and still am not part of that crowd. I think the idea of it is fine and interesting, but I felt how it was handled was messy.

A part of me is genuinely (not in a pessimistic way) curious why and how this story aspect will come up. Buck only ever talked to Hen, in any kind of depth, about donating his sperm but no one else, which I found really odd. Chimney, Maddie, Bobby and even Eddie would have all been very logical people for Buck to talk to, but we got nothing. Then again it's not surprising since the characters were weirdly kept separate a lot in season 6, but anyway.

With zero knowledge of how, when, and in what capacity this aspect will even come up, right now I just have a few initial thoughts: - Will Buck actually talk to someone about his thoughts, whatever they are at this point, and talk to someone that makes sense? Thus, Hen again or Maddie or Chimney or Bobby or Eddie? Season 6 kept us out of Bucks head a lot, so I felt at least that I had to do a lot of guess work to figure out what Buck was thinking and feeling a little too often. - If Kameron and Connor are brought back in, I definitely get it, but personally I hope not. I don't hate them or anything, I just don't care. - idk, I just hope that this story aspect is being touched on again for a good reason and not just to stir up unnecessary drama. Most of the time this show has done well on this front, staying away from unnecessary drama, but they're not perfect at it.

I guess I'm a mix of curious in a positive way, but also a little nervous too. =|

EDIT: Hm okay if the whole donor thing is somehow brought up between Eddie and Buck to help facilitate the conversation of "Buck, Chris is your son too" kinda thing, then I think I'm cool with that. Although that might happen anyway with Eddie reaching out to his co-parent (Buck) for dating advice for Chris.

In any case if the donor stuff is going to be brought up, well I'm still hella curious what Eddie has to say about it because season 6 didn't give us that. We got Eddie making a face, a face that could be read as disapproving on some level, but no actual words.

EDIT 2: fcgvhjkbh ummmm anyway. someone else pointed this out on a different post, but bruh so true. Why bring up the sperm donor story in season 7 when *checks notes* Buck died???????? THAT storyline was basically dropped. Buck didn't want to think about it, wanted to move on asap for a few episodes, then bam! He talked to a death doula once, mostly off screen, and he's good everyone. He's fine and we can all move on.

?????????????????

#911 negativity #tagging this just in case #911 s7 speculation #911 spoilers #Evan Buckley #my thoughts #tone can be hard to read #so like I'm not even angry or anything #just a bit 'girl what?'

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editmesilver · 1 year

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So, this is awkward- My main blog @gunsli-01 has been shadow banned. Speaking up on this blog may very well cause the same thing to occur. However, if it does that's confirmation enough for me that this fandom has become an incredibly toxic place. Plus, I've kind of got to say it here so the people whom it concerns can see it. If you're here for Pandora Hearts stuff feel free to ignore.

TL;DR: Since this happened, I will not be continuing to make Milgram content on my side blog. So, anyone following me for Milgram edits may just want to leave.

Now, a lot happened yesterday evening. I recognized that my ability to message people on my main blog had vanished at around seven while looking over an ask I received. Before saying anything, I decided to try to investigate the reasons this might be. Even bringing up the issue within a discord server I've been a part of for years now.

I couldn't find anything. In a state of upset I posted about the situation in the ask sent to me regarding the fandom in question. At first, I believed this was happening because a person in said fandom reported my main blog as a silencing tactic. Then I was informed by my fiancée that it was a glitch which had been affecting people all over the website.

However, through further investigation it seems more likely that this is not a glitch but an abuse of the reporting feature. From what I've gathered through Tumblr many people have had this happen to them some multiple times.

I've been on Tumblr since 2013 through my main blog. I've made friends and flitted in and out fandoms without ever encountering this issue. This is something that seems to have only occurred because of my more active and vocal role within that fandom. Something that if I try hard enough, I can understand. It is not lost on me how what I say on my main blog can come off to others.

I was messaging someone within the fandom about this before I lost the ability to message or even look back on my messages. I can see how my opinion and feelings regarding Milgram could make me dislikeable. Since a lot of what I say is stuff that certain people might not want to hear.

However, falsely reporting someone's blog as spam is not okay.

Since my blog has been shadow banned, I can't reply to comments on my own post, tag people in posts, message, even if I answer asks sent to me there's no guarantee the person who sent it will be notified. It will look like people can message me, but I will receive nothing. Star can't even look up my tags on my blog anymore. On my end it will look like I liked a post and I can still reblog things but my interaction won't appear in the notes of the post itself. I've even had past comments of mine on my own posts vanish.

I can at least still see my activity but for all intents and purposes interacting with anyone on Tumblr is now impossible for me. I'm not gonna say this isn't meant to call out this fandom because it legitimately is. Like if someone actively and maliciously did this to me fuck that person. Also, since this happened, I will not be continuing to make Milgram content on my side blog.

So, anyone following me for Milgram edits may just want to leave.

Because this happened and none of my posts from my main blog will be in tags for the unforeseeable future- The Mikoto essay has been delayed as well. So, if anyone was looking forward to that well sorry that's tough but I was looking forward to being able to message my fiancée posts and having all my Tumblr functions. A lot of times in life we don't get what we want, we get what we get.

Secondarily given the content I was posting concerning Milgram before this occurred, I believe if my blog was reported for spam that it was more than likely a Mu supporter who did it and they know who they are if they did. Now if I were a pettier person, I'd go report someone else's blog as spam right now to check if I'm right.

However, no one deserves to have this happen to them. Plus, I genuinely can't be bothered over something so actively petty and sad. Oh, Futa is bad; well at that point what does that make the person who did this?

Overall, I don't know what will happen with either of my blogs from this point forward. I just know that if this is the reason behind my current circumstances the Milgram fandom should be ashamed and start reflecting on the conduct it's willing to allow.

If this is how it treats people writing theories it dislikes, then maybe not saying anything is what's best for everyone.

This is probably the last time I will be speaking on this topic, and I apologize for any discomfort my volatile or crass response may cause to the fandom.

I truly believe this is what happened, but it is still my speculation, and it is considered a glitch. However, the fact that there are people who have experienced this glitch before and gotten it resolved just for it to occur again. Tumblr's vague statements regarding the matter; them only referring to the issue as a glitch and fixing it without elaborating further on what caused it to happen or what staff is doing to make sure it doesn't happen again.

One of the only concrete reasons I found for this occurrence offered by the user base was people stating that before it happened to them, they updated their app. Yet, in my case this is impossible. Because it not only occurred when I was on desktop but the app on my phone did not update that day. All this has led me to believe that the most logical conclusion at this time is that this glitch is a result of a malicious misuse of the report feature and the only tag I've been consistently active in has been the Milgram one.

Feel free to draw your own conclusions but if this is the case it sets a dangerous precedent for the future of this fandom space and many others. If this is the treatment I am receiving on my main blog, then I do not wish to and will not be creating more easily consumable fan content like edits for this fandom anymore.

#milgram

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domaystic · 2 years

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Officially, May has ended everywhere in the world and so has Domaystic2022! What a month, I can’t believe how much was created and how much imagination it sparkled or will, I’m amazed ~ :DD

First of all, 👏 this is me clapping nonstop 👏 to 👏 all 👏 who participated 👏 (or has plans to)! 👏 Great (future) job! 👏👏 Congrats 👏 for pouring out so many words, arts, edits, etc. 👏 for so many days 👏👏 your muse must be fatigued?! :D

On another note, I learned a few things with this event:

1. tumblr pages are useless from mobile -> it’s always better to make a post

2. I didn't take into account the banned tag issue! At times I saw that there was a notification in the tracked tags sidebar but no matter how much I refreshed or used the search bar, nothing new appeared. A bug? Tumblr being tumblr? Was it because of the “nsfw” tag?! My guess is yes, probably.

3. The time. As per the rules (that I set -_-) I wonder how much that was okay, umm… was it okay, was it not okay? Maybe it would have been better to just have a person post their entry based on their own day/time zone instead of me complicating life with time-zones calculations? It’s a possibility (although it was fun to look for clocks lol) Maybe having a help from someone on the other side of the world also? More food for thought.

4. I’m merging this lovely ask I received here:

“Thanks so much for creating and running this event, I've had such fun playing and writing stories for it! ♡ May I also be forward and ask if you think you'll run it again?”

As for the answer: I really feel like running it again, truth to be told! :) Of all the prompts that I wrote down in the frenzy days I thought of domaystic back in March, there are still 25 unused ones, which are almost enough for another round ahaha. But firstly, I think I better review / reorganize things, tags, understand how ao3 collections works, consider the three points above and such. Any other suggestion on how to improve is also welcome.

Finally, if you’re slow like me in the creation process but want to keep tagging/@mention the blog, do not hesitate, it will continue to stay active if I find stuff to reblog; and, of course, the AO3 collection is there for you to use it, if you want :)

Once more, let me say thanks again for giving life to this event ♥♥♥

#post about the event #domaystic2022 #domaystic #(TT_TT) crying out of happiness #d long post

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the-void-writes · 2 years

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SOLM: After Hours

So I fell in love with Cyrus and Val and had to write them like this 🤣 I won’t tag the full taglist because I’m not sure who all is comfortable with spicy content (though I will tag @bloodlessheirbyjacques because I was talking to them about it)

Edit: @tryingtimi has joined the party 🤣 I hope this is okay.

Warning: Adult content. 18+ only.

The crew may have hated the weather in Hawthorn, but Val couldn’t get enough of it. They adored the damp mountain air that prickled against their skin. Such a welcome change from their hometown, which seemed to contract heat waves like it was the flu. If Val could afford to move, they would stay in Hawthorn for the rest of their life. A town rich with history, led by the most mysterious yet kind man in the world…

There was a party going on in the manor, something to celebrate the town’s publicity thanks to the show. As Angelo entertained every guy he walked past, Cyrus grew agitated and asked Val to walk with him in the garden for the night. Of course, the walk was cut short when they both got distracted by the stars in the dark sky above them. They laid side-by-side on the mist-covered grass, the evening chill pressing into their backs as they took in the view. Of course, Val was the only one looking up, as Cyrus had his eyes on something far more lovely: Val in the stunning red gown that the tailor had made for them. They looked like they truly belonged in the Lockhart family.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked. “If it’s too cold, we can always go back inside.”

Val shook their head. “This is perfect, thank you.”

He ran his hand through their curled hair. “Of course, my dear. I just don’t want you to get sick.”

“If I do, then you can use it as an excuse to get away from Angelo.”

Cyrus chuckled. “As ingenious as that is, I’m afraid I would be an overbearing nurse.”

“Better than the ones I’ve had before… At least you respect my name.”

He held their face, bringing his own closer until their heads touched. “This world does not deserve you, Val. It never has.”

Val’s pulse quickened. His voice was full of heartbreak, and a hint of disdain for the people who dared to hurt his beloved. Truthfully, it felt nice to know someone was on their side. Val pulled Cyrus closer, their hands resting on his hips, a sign that they truly appreciated him. In turn, Cyrus brought their chin up and kissed them. He was intoxicated by the warmth of Val’s lips. They both rolled over in the grass, lost in the feelings that they tried to keep hidden from the crew. Cyrus became aware of their position, of Val’s beautiful frame underneath him, and pulled away for a moment.

“Forgive me for being so forward—”

“Please,” Val gasped as they pulled him back down, “be as forward as you like.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

“Then let me bring you back inside, before you really catch a cold.”

Val’s enthusiastic nodding made him chuckle. He picked them up and carried them inside, successfully sneaking past the party. Any passing staff watched them in amusement. Val knew they wouldn’t tell the crew, not at the risk of Cyrus’ happiness. The people in Hawthorn truly loved their lord, as did Val. They made it to Cyrus’ room, beautifully furnished in red and black, with only the soft glow of the candles to illuminate it. Cyrus kissed Val once more, hands traveling to undo the laces of their dress. His cold fingers danced along their chest, tracing every dip and curve like an artist at the canvas. Val shivered and fumbled with Cyrus’ many layers of cloak, shirt, and laces.

“It’s like opening a nesting doll,” Val said.

Cyrus laughed. “I’d say it’s more like unwrapping a present.”

“A very fancy present.”

He smiled and finished undressing himself to spare Val’s energy. They could see the tiny little scratches and scars on his pale skin, marks of a past that he wasn’t ready to share just yet. Cyrus brought his attention back to his beloved, removing their final layers and kissing the soft skin of their thigh. Val tossed their glasses onto the nightstand and brought Cyrus back up so they could kiss him. He laid them down under the warm covers and kissed their neck, the chill of his lips making their hair stand on end.

“Still okay?” he whispered.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Just let me know if it’s too much.”

“Same to you.”

Cyrus smiled. “Thank you, my dear.”

He started gently, just holding Val close as he kissed them. The orchestra downstairs played softly, echoing throughout the manor like a divine concert. Val suddenly gasped as Cyrus trailed his hand down their torso and between their legs. Cold fingers moved delicately against them, making them tremble.

“Is this okay?” Cyrus asked.

“Yes—” Val gasped again. “That’s great.”

He chuckled against their ear. “Don’t worry about restraining yourself, my love. If you need to be loud, go ahead. The music will muffle it for the guests.”

Cyrus pressed against them, and Val grunted in surprise, eliciting another deep chuckle.

“But I’ll get to hear every beautiful noise,” he finished.

“Cyrus—”

They reached their own hand down to hold him, and Cyrus’ chest shook as his breathing became quicker, more desperate.

“Val,” He hissed into their shoulder. “Oh, I wish I had met you first.”

“So do I—” They shuddered. “Ah— Stay there, please.”

He did as they asked, relishing in their little gasps and groans. Val was starting to bring him to a similar state with their steady hand.

“My dear, you’re driving me crazy.”

Val wheezed. “Is that good or bad?”

“It’s very good—” His breath hitched. “I just don’t know how far you want to go.”

“As far as you want.” They inhaled sharply. “Please, Cyrus, I just want you.”

Cyrus kissed their jaw, keeping his pace with one hand, and using the other to guide himself into them. Val slapped their hand over their mouth to muffle a particularly-loud moan. Cyrus stopped and held them.

“Are you okay?”

But Val started to laugh at themself. Their smile was magnificent in the candlelight, and their laugh was like bells in heaven. Cyrus relaxed and laughed along with them.

“I’ll be gentler, my love.”

“No, I’m fine,” Val said. “Like you said, I just need to be loud. Please, keep going.”

Still, he was more careful about his movements, steadily rocking against them. Val ran one hand through Cyrus’ hair, while the other gripped the sheets beneath them.

“Yes,” they gasped, “that’s it.”

The warmth of the room, the chill of Cyrus’ touch, the music playing downstairs, it all made Val’s head swim. This was better than any fake ghost show. They didn’t want to go back home to people that didn’t respect them, to a job with no future. Their future was in Hawthorn.

“Cyrus,” Val cried.

“Yes, dear, tell me what you need.”

“What if— Hah— What if I stayed, after this season is done?”

His emerald eyes shone with excitement. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes— I want to stay with you.”

They didn’t think Cyrus could smile any wider. He kissed them deeply, picking up his pace.

“My darling, nothing would make me happier.”

Val was caught between a laugh and a moan. “I think you’re about to get happier in a few seconds.”

Cyrus laughed and cupped their cheek. “What about you?”

“I’m almost there, I know it.”

“Just hold on, love. I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t long before they both reached their limit, the flames of the candles blurring together as euphoria washed over the two lovers. The music had grown softer, as though trying to send them off to sleep. Cyrus held Val close to his chest, unable to get enough of their warmth. Their hair was all frizzy, and their freckled skin glistened in the soft yellow lights. For once, life had been merciful to him. He would do anything to protect the gift he had been given. Val shifted slightly in his arms.

“Thank you, Cyrus. This was wonderful.”

Cyrus kissed Val’s temple. “Thank you, my dearest. Get some rest, I’ll be right here.”

They slowly drifted off, and Cyrus watched them for a while, taking in every detail before he finally let himself fall asleep. The staff made sure that no one came to bother them during the night, as well as the following morning. Cyrus couldn’t wait for the day when the crew would leave, when he’d never see Angelo again, when he could wake up beside Val every morning. That would be the greatest gift of all.

#spicy writing stuff #void spice

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hospitalterrorizer · 7 months

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diary36

10/10-11/2023

tuesday - wednesday

i need to put the days here so i don't forget what day it is. that's still a problem for me.

saw the hellp!!

look at them, with the ccp behind them. a beautiful image, even if they don't love communism . but i hope they do . or at least one does.

and i just love getting pictures of people taking pictures. my gf took the first photo, i'm not one for pix at concerts but i felt like some heavenly force was telling me to take a photo of that woman taking a photo.

their visuals during the set were great, i think, they have a sense of humor about themselves definitely but they somehow reach towards what dennis coopers does briefly in his second movie, where this boy loops a gif of someone exploding in a movie over and over, ruminating over his own death/desire to explode, that dissociative image, or the image pulled into / extruded by time into dissociativity, and also, the strange sorrow of trawling old imagehosting sites like flickr and things and finding people's random photos. i think they have something very real with that. also they put in footage from one of the lord of the rings movies and i think those movies suck because i don't like fantasy but i think their repurposing of that footage was kind of great, turning it into a weird emotional spectacle briefly.

izzy spears was, i dunno, he felt like he was cut off live, like prevented from getting where he wanted to go, i loved his moves, and he had a great look, but the music was simply not loud enough (my fault for wearing ear plugs? i dunno.) i kind of get the sense/hope though that there's a lot to look forwards to w/ him. i'm still not all the way on his voice and stuff but the stuff i heard that wasn't on his ep (i think) was produced in a very cool way.

i'm right now trying think if i should faff about with a modular synth for a little bit and then go to bed or not.

i think yves had a great leather jacket, very scorpio rising, and scorpio rising's one of the best things ever imo. so they get to remain in my good graces just for their loox alone.

tomorrow is a big day cuz, idk why i didn't mention this sooner but we're going to denver for a bit, my gf has an obligation there, and i'm tagging along cuz i'm curious. i think maybe a lot of people there will find me disgusting or something but i hope not. i just get that vibe but idunno. i don't know anything about colorado really. i'm excited to see the airport. i'm worried about being able to run the blog while i'm away cuz i can't get the app on my phone. i might steal my gf's laptop and try to login to tumblr from there and do my updates. i need to write my password down and stuff.

okay did that. idk how long my entries will be while i am there, or if she'll let me, but we'll see.

i'm excited to come home and get new ears on my music, and also like, i dunno, read more about butoh and angura i guess. i want to keep researching that, i found a wordpress that's dedicated to researching/writing about it, and that person has subtitled and translated some plays and put them youtube. really cool stuff.

youtube

here's one i'm excited to get to, a shuji terayama work. i love his film stuff that i've seen, so i'm very excited to see this. i've also read some of his short stories, they're very interesting, if not what i expect from the guy who turns maldoror into a short film, a great and very strange one at that. he really keeps it very poetic and loose and strange, the outer limits of the image unconstrained by narrative editing but the presence of a narrative text binding the work, it gets close to experience of impressions and the flights of fancy present in the book, the excessive images and the way they feel in your heart, rather than how they truly play out. i still need to finish that book but i got into it decently. it's just an issue where i go so slow because i want to drink every page totally, taste every inch of it so i can understand and then, understanding it, i can learn and use what i learn in my own writing. it's one of those books, so ornate and expertly written i just can't help but sit there in awe of it i guess.

listening to this album disrobics by this band gay beast is making me really want to mess with a synth, so i'll give myself some time for that right now i suppose.

that was fun. tomorrow i have to ride a plane. that won't be fun, because i don't like sitting still that long it gets borringggg.

i guess i will talk to myself in denver tomorrow night. how strange. i am scared because apparently there are going to be lots of french people, and there's some kind of bedbug epidemic in paris. that wigs me out terribly. hopefully it's not a problem for these people i'm about to be around.

anyways, i should sleep now, byebye!!

#Youtube

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psychogirlfriendandsupervillain · 3 years

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Leading Question

One shot (ish)

Benny Watts x Reader*

(* Reader wears a skirt, has hair long enough to pull (like anything longer than a buzzcut) and a vagina, so anyone who identifies with that: it’s free real estate. I am considering writing a copy that is fully gender-neutral, so if anyone wants that let me know (although I’m likely to do it anyway).)

Content/warning tags: NSFW, 18+, Smut (but it’s the slowest pacing smut, talking slow-burn but they’re both already in the bed, no joke), fluff?, friends to lovers, mention of alcohol, swearing, oral (male receiving), making out, heavy petting, really a whole lotta kissing, porn with no plot?, the porn is the plot, foreplay more like half the fucking play, hair pulling kink, mention of knife kink, sex, plotted during a figurative and literal fever, edited during a figurative and literal heat wave, we love it here.

Summary: Benny half-confesses to his attraction to the reader during a night at the bar and reader takes his clumsily put question and turns it into a homerun.

Word Count: 7k (this is what happens when you give me THAT and then take it away)

A/N: Entirely self-indulgent piece of smut thought out during two hours at 4 AM (and then throughout the rest of the day) the day after watching Fork, because I was frustrated and Benny is hot, whoopsie.

@go-catch-a-chickn showed some interest in what I was writing, but I bet you regret that now! Nonetheless, here’s your tag, have fun!

I’m open to criticism, just shoot me a message or an ask. Let me know if I’ve got errors or missed a warning.

--------

You and Benny were friends since high school. Not because you also played chess, but because you had been making out with your boyfriend in the back of the library and Benny had come looking for a chess book that was on the shelf you were leaning on. You two paused, moved to the side so that he could pull out the book and then he was on his way.

A few days later Benny was in the cafeteria and came up a few cents short, when a voice next to him told the woman at the register that they would pay for his meal as well as their own. He looked over at you as the cashier added your things to the total and you smiled.

“Now you have money over for other things.”

It continued like that for the rest of both of your high school stays. You would catch him in the corridor and strike up conversations before heading off for you next class. When your relationship with your boyfriend ended (mutually, it should be said; he was interested in another girl, you felt the spark wasn’t there anymore), you told Benny after he asked why you looked a little glum. He was supportive but didn’t bring it up again.

Now the two of you are sat at a bar counter, a bottle in front of each of you, as the day is winding down. You meet up like this between his tournaments and whatever else is going on your lives, touchdowns in the well-known amidst it all. The buzz of patrons has calmed down and outside the curtained windows the street is black, broken up by spots of the streetlights.

“Do you-“ Benny stops. He’s half turned towards you, left hand around his beer on the counter, legs facing you, but his eyes are currently at the bottles lined up against the back wall where the bartender is pouring a drink for someone down the line.

You put down your bottle after a sip, resting your hand on it just like he is. Benny starts again.

“What do you do when your dick tells you to sleep with your friend, but your brain tells you it’s not a good idea?” He’s still not looking at you. It’s almost a hypothetical, almost a thought about someone else.

You shrug, taking a last sip before turning forward.

“I don’t know, I follow what my pussy says.” With that you get up and put money on the counter to close your tab, seeing Benny jump in the corner of your eye at your answer. You’re pulling on your coat as you start for the door, slow enough that he’ll catch up no problem.

“Wait.” He’s at your side in no time. “I’ll walk you to your place.” Even in the slight shade of his hat you can see that he’s a bit flustered.

“You sure?” Benny nods. “Otherwise I could walk you to yours. It’s farther.” You push up the inner set of doors and Benny follows you into the dark airlock entryway.

“Why would you want to walk where it’s farther?” He asks behind you, a frown audible in his voice, and you hold up your hand to signal for him to wait as you push up the second set of doors.

The air rushes against you and the hum of a road somewhere off campus reaches your ears. There’s no one on the walk path running between fields of grass and lines of trees. It’s still too early for the streets to be filled with people getting home from the bars, too late for any overtime workers dragging their feet.

“Honestly?” You turn to Benny, who’s standing with his coat still unbuttoned and arms hanging at his sides, like he isn’t sure what to do with them. “Because I’m hoping to get invited up, and if I’m going to get fucked, I want to be in your bed, surrounded by the scent of you.”

It takes a second. Then he’s a little bit closer. Not that he was far away before, but he’s close enough that when he leans a little forward you don’t have to take a step to close the gap. Your lips run against his, soft and slow, with the slight scratch of his mustache against your skin, warm cotton and leather so close now, and then you step back, absentmindedly swiping your tongue over your own lips to chase his taste. His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips.

“Your place or mine?” Benny’s voice is a little rough; maybe it’s the drinking, maybe it’s the kiss.

“Again, yours.” You quirk your lip and reach to catch Benny’s hand, warm in yours. Pulling him into motion you start walking in the direction of his apartment, shoes echoing against the asphalt.

“I’m not sure I will make it that far.” He sounds a bit tortured, and you laugh, squeezing his hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you make it. And if you don’t, I’ll help you clean up and wait for you.”

Benny makes a noise.

“Tell me about Open Sicilian.” You look forward at the empty road as you walk.

“What?” He looks at you.

“To distract you, explain Open Sicilian to me.” He has explained that particular tactic to you several times before, not that it necessarily stuck too well.

“That’s not going to help!” Benny throws head back with a frustrated laugh. The sound makes your stomach flutter. “You’re going to make me tell you about chess, and then ask questions, to keep me distracted? Like you showing sincere interest in it isn’t going to just make it harder to focus.” He shakes his head, looking out over the empty street. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You would have gotten there quicker if Benny hadn’t stopped at every tree, stone wall, and doorway to push you against it and kiss you. He even sat down on a bench when you were halfway and pulled you down into his lap. You let yourself be pulled down but wouldn’t go along with his attempts to make you straddle him, despite his hand on your inner thigh through your skirt and his insistent, chasing kisses.

As you reach the building you let go off Benny’s hand so he can punch in the code for the door. He leads you up the hollow stairwell to his door, noisily unlocks it and lets you in before him.

It’s a short hallway with doors leading off to the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom, lit by some cool light falling in from the open doorway to the kitchen. There are hooks for jackets with a pile of shoes beneath it to one side, and a table holding a phone and newspapers further in.

The lock clicks behind you and Benny turns around, dropping his keys back down in his coat pocket. Just as he faces you, you push him back against the door. Shock flashes in his eyes and his lips part but when you place your against his he quickly responds, pushing back against you, his tongue running against your bottom lip, inviting you to taste it. It’s with difficulty that you pull back.

“Okay, I lied.” You admit as you get onto your knees, looking back up at him. “Can I?”

Benny’s breaths are unsteady, and you have to ask him to repeat it before you can clearly hear him consent.

You hum, pushing aside his leather coat to hold his hips back against the door, pulling his belt out from its loops so you can undo the buckle. Benny closes his eyes and groans as you let the belt with his knife still attached fall back against his legs and undo his button and zipper.

“Don’t be too loud, you don’t want the neighbors to hear you, do you? Even solid wood doors are thinner than walls.” You wink up at him and he repeats the sound, head leaning back against the door and hips pushing forward. If you didn’t believe Benny before, you definitely would now, as you feel how hard he is through the barriers of fabric. He’s solid and warm against your hands.

Pushing his jeans down, you move his boxers carefully until you can pull them down as well. Precum is leaking down the underside of his erect cock and his hips push forward again, impatiently this time. You circle your hand around him, the other resting against his hip so that maybe he’ll stay in place, not having the patience to start stroking before you take him in your mouth.

The sound Benny makes when your lips close around his cock is far too loud and not loud enough. His breathing audibly speeds up, encouraging you to run your tongue along the underside each time you pull back. Sucking down his cock, you match your movements with those of your hand, creating just the perfect rhythm that has his hips pushing against your other hand. You look up at him, meeting his eyes as you circle his tip with your tongue and he pinches his eyes closed, turning his head back up and cutting off the whine escaping his throat. You swallow around him, and the whine comes back, ending in a high pitch. You do it again. His hand pushes lightly against your shoulder, and you pull off him, sitting back and licking your lips as he meets your eyes.

“I don’t want to finish before we’ve even started.” His words are low, his hand falling back against the side of his coat. You shift your legs on the floor.

“Shame, I want you to.” You smile and bite your lip. “I told you I’d help clean you up and wait after. I’m in no rush.” Benny’s hips jerk forward again.

“Fuck” His eyes flutter shut.

“Can I?” You wait for the sound of his yes before you lick a line from the base to the head, reveling in how little he is holding back this time. Pushing his hips back a little rougher against the door to keep him in his place you earn a moan of your name which has your stomach fluttering and head spinning. One of his hands rest on your shoulder again but isn’t pushing away this time. He lets you decide the speed, albeit with the occasional jerk of his hips as he hisses and braces against the door.

“Fuck, I’-” You feel Benny tensing and look up to see him looking down on you, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw. “Fuck” He slams his head back against the door, hips pushing him further in, and you can feel the vibrations emitting from his chest all the way in the back of your throat as he releases into your mouth. You swallow it down, catching the whimper Benny makes at the feeling it gives his cock.

When you get to your feet, Benny head is hanging so the brim of his hat casts his face in shadow and he’s leaning so heavily against the door you’re not sure he’ll be standing much longer. His breathing is loud in the quiet apartment, and you can’t help the pride growing in the back of your mind. Still breathing heavily, Benny finally lifts his head enough to look at you. You meet his eyes and swipe your tongue over your lips.

His eyes flicker down to follow the movement and he groans, slumping back against the door. You smile triumphantly.

“Let’s get your clothes back on and then I’ll get water.” You help Benny get his pants back on, refastening the buckle. He’s not standing entirely stable, but enough that you can slide his coat down his arms and hang it up, followed by his hat, before you sit him down on a stool right by the door. Having hung up your own coat and switched on the lights you gesture to the kitchen door. “Do you mind?” Benny shakes his head, blond hair falling in his eyes.

You fill two glasses from the tap, throwing a glance at your watch, before returning to him. Handing one to Benny you drink the other, both of you listening to him regaining control over his breathing while you empty the glasses. As you take your last sip you place both on the hallway table and toe off your shoes.

“Want to move out of the hallway?” You hold your hand out to Benny and he’s standing before you’ve had a chance to blink.

You get precisely two steps into Benny’s bedroom before he’s kissing you again. His tongue runs softly against yours, contrasting with the scratch of his beard. He won’t even let you move forward, blocking you with his body until his hands have found their place on your hips, and even then standing stronger than you’d expect from how he looked a minute ago.

Every kiss he chases after you, when you move to the side so does he, when your tongue touches his lips his tongue comes to greet it. It’s overwhelming and intoxicating, his body heat rising and seeping through his button up and your shirt, the warm scent of leather still lingering in the air around him.

Then Benny moves backwards, pulling you with him three quick steps, refusing to let your lips part for even a second, and lets you fall on top of him on his bed.

You pull back, insisting despite his protests. He managed to switch some light on before getting lost in you, letting you full appreciate the shine in his dark eyes when he looks up at you as you brush blond strands out of his eyes. Flittering over you above him, they keep coming back to meet yours, a playful smile on his lips. You lean back down and let him capture your lips again, his hands splaying one on your back, one running up and down your side. Chasing his smile you kiss the corners of his mouth, dipping your tongue in to meet his. It’s like you’ll never run out of places to taste him.

Straightening back up and moving so you’re straddling him, you undo the first buttons of your shirt, but Benny’s hands stop yours, taking over their work with slow precision. He pulls you back down so he can continue kissing you even if it makes it harder for him to get the buttons undone, not that that seems his top priority. Sitting up and sliding the fabric down your arms Benny throws it in some corner of the room, pulling you closer against him by your hips.

“Easy, tiger.” You hum against his lips and Benny laughs a little, shifting further back on the bed and letting you both fall back against the mattress again, arms wrapped securely around your waist.

His necklaces are cool against your skin, but his hands are on fire. They run over your back and sides, up one down the other, and leave nothing but further fires under your skin. Even his rings don’t feel cold as Benny brushes his fingers up your arm to cup your head, tongue skimming your lip but withdrawing whenever you try to catch it.

Pulling back for the first time, Benny looks up at you with a mischievous smile.

“If I had known telling you I like you would lead to this, I would’ve told you already five years ago.”

Not that you’d really been open to anything at that time. Five years ago, and the five that followed, you had been entirely focused on your academics, and the only person you really hung out with had been Benny. He brought his chess books and sat with you in the library while you read up for exams. You’d chat about everything while trying to cram every bit of knowledge into your tired brains. That really only slowed down once you graduated, the hyper-focus on reading every book and spending hours writing notes over bad coffee.

“Do you want to like” You look up at the head pillows laying vertically to your bodies, and Benny starts laughing, luring you into doing the same. “move up?”

“Sure” He lets go of you so you can both get higher on the bed, but the second you’re close enough Benny pulls you back over him. “Better?”

“Much, thank you.” You smile and lean down halfway. Amused you watch Benny push up to meet you, hungry lips convincing you to push him back down into the mattress.

You can’t help the occasional shifting of your hips against his, underwear pushing against the friction of jeans below your skirt. His hands skim the hem of it, but never ventures below it, favoring to run up to your hips and draw you closer.

Running his hands up your back to hold you against him, Benny rolls you over onto your back. Settling between your legs, he braces one arm above you while the other cups the side of your head, lifting just enough for your lips to reach his.

“You know, for later, we’re still on your bed.” You remind him before kissing the corner of his mouth. Benny’s lips quirk and he follows you back down against the pillow.

“I know.” He runs his nose along the side of your neck, the chains around his sliding against your skin. Warm cotton and leather surround you, and this might actually be heaven.

Pushing back a bit Benny reaches up to undo his green button up but stops when you give him a look.

“Isn’t it my turn now?”

Benny lets go off the button and shows his hands, dropping them to your hips as you reach up, undoing the first button before pulling him down by his collar. His smile meets yours, and it only gets bigger for every button, as the release of each is met with the same celebration.

When there are no more buttons to open you slide the fabric out from his pants and down his bare arms. Holding the shirt out in one hand you look at Benny, whose eyes are locked on yours, his lips kiss-bruised.

“Does this have to be folded on a chair” You tilt your head. “or can I just throw it?”

“Throw it.” His eyes sparkle, his voice hitting a little lower and sending vibrations where your body is touching his.

The green fabric flutters to rest at the far end corner of the bed in your peripheral vision. You weren’t really looking where you were throwing.

“It didn’t even get off the bed.” You speak very seriously, as if it was a grave matter, but you’re absorbed by Benny, whose eyes are as stuck in yours as yours are in his. “If you want it off, you’ll have to throw it yourself.”

His arms shift above you, and without moving away from you or breaking eye contact Benny kicks the shirt, sending it tumbling of the edge with a soft thud as it hits the floor. You push your hips up against his, the hilt of the knife at his belt pressing against the inside of your thigh. Benny’s hips thrust back against yours and he lowers down to brush his lips against yours before devouring you again. Your thighs slide against his bare skin, and he reaches back to hook them further over his hips, swiping his tongue along yours. When Benny pulls back slightly the sound he makes fills the room, bouncing off the walls. The end of it mixes with the sigh of his name pulled from your lips as he dips the tip of his tongue into the corner of your mouth.

“Think we’ll wake the neighbors?” You lift off the bed to chase after him, not giving him a chance to reply, pushing him over onto his back. His hips shift against yours as he settles into the mattress.

“The walls are thicker than the door.” He looks up at you straddling him, his lips quirking up into a smile, blond hair falling over his eyes again. Satisfied with his answer you lower your body back down over his, occupying his mouth with yours again.

From slow, insistent kisses where Benny’s tongue runs against yours, you move to kiss the corners of his lips, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his forehead, and his eyelids as he closes his eyes. Continuing down his chin, alternatingly placing kisses on either side of his neck, and one at the dip at the base of his throat, passing over his chains, you shift back to trail down the right side of his chest. As your lips touch between navel and the top of his jeans, brushing along the fabric, Benny touches the side of your head.

“Don’t you dare do it again.” His tone is light and teasing, with just an edge of breathlessness and seriousness.

You move up to kiss his left hip and his hand falls back onto the mattress.

“I won’t.”

You trail back up Benny’s irregularly moving chest, out his right upper arm, and lift his hand. Pressing two more soft kisses to his inner forearm, you place one in the middle of his palm and one to the tip of each finger, before beginning again at his sternum and doing the same to his left arm.

Raising back up you push Benny’s hair from his eyes, inviting the light to dance with the sparks already in them.

“Benny Watts, you are a drug.” You smile a little breathlessly and shake your head down at him. The corners of Benny’s mouth start to raise, and he quickly swipes his tongue up to pull down his upper lip and bites down on his lower.

His attempts fail and when you kiss Benny, he’s beaming, a satisfied sound emitting from the chest pressed against yours. His heartbeats translate through your ribcage and your sentiment is repeated in your mind with a flutter in your stomach.

Ringed hands shift from your hips to your back to hold you closer against him. Somehow, you’ve forgotten Benny’s knife because you can’t even feel it at this point. You only feel the friction of his body against your, the pull of his lips.

“You should be in prison.” His tongue swipes into your mouth at that, stalling your continuation with a dizzying taste. “You should be in jail, and I should be in the same cell with you.” The vibrations of Benny’s laugh and twist of his lips reach your senses at the same time as the push of his hips. Combined they’re enough to make you say his name against his lips, repeating it when he does it again.

Lifting off the mattress Benny’s hands holds your hips down against his as he sits up, lips running down the side of your neck when they slip from yours. The scratches against your skin turn into fire running through your veins, out into your arms and fingertips as you run them over his bare shoulders, along the chains around his neck. You barely hear the sound of your name slip from his tongue against the crook of your shoulder, before Benny turns to make you fall first back into the mattress.

Benny’s hands run from your hips to the hem of your skirt, warm fingers tracing bare skin. You lift your hips against his and he pulls back, but only after sucking your lip into his mouth, swiping it with his tongue.

“Want me to get it off?”

“It’s mostly in the way at this point.” Having gotten his answer, Benny eases the skirt down, letting you lift your hips and moving so he’s not in the way. When it’s all the way off he throws the fabric the same way as your shirt, or maybe the opposite. You can’t remember.

Leaning back over you Benny brushes his lips against yours, meeting you when you arch up against him, then lets himself kiss you fully again. His hips push yours down into the mattress before he pulls them back up towards him. You roll back against him, crossing your legs behind Benny’s back, and he hisses against your lips. The sound of you saying his name causes the grind of his hips to stutter, restart, a low sound resonating in his chest, sending its aftershocks through your body as his hands squeeze your thighs a little harder.

One moves to skim the inside of your knee, hot fingers with warm rings running over equally heated skin. When it reaches the junction of your thigh and hip it slides up along the edge of your underwear and then drops beside your side to support his weight as Benny brings his other hand to hover between your legs and pulls away from your lips.

“Can I?” His dark eyes shimmer.

“Yes.” Since you can’t hear your own voice over the increased speed of your heartbeat you repeat it twice, catching the way Benny’s tongue darts out over his bottom lip as his eyes flicker down.

He runs his knuckles down the slick, wet fabric. You think you hear a breathed-out curse but are distracted when fingertips retrace the same path with just enough pressure to make your hips roll against them. The feeling is dizzying, your breathing skips. Benny’s dark eyes flick back up to yours. Then he does it again, sending sparks where the pads of his fingers almost touch you. Your eyes almost flutter at the way he looks at you when your breathing stops again to become what might have been a curse, or his name, or the curse of his name. The last one in particular feels likely as the sound twists and grows louder, and Benny’s eyes are locked on yours.

Pressing back into his bed you roll your hips against his, his hands planted back on either side of you as he lowers back down to press starved kisses to your mouth. Hips lift off yours, only to change their mind and push back down, accompanied by a curse against the corner of your lips. When Benny’s bottom lip slides against yours, you pull it into your mouth and lightly push down your teeth into it. His left arm buckles as you swallow the sound of his groan.

With little effort you coax Benny onto his back. He willingly falls down onto the pillow, rings sliding against your back as he tries to entice you into press against him. His fingers trail down, skimming along the edge of your underwear until they reach the front, barely touching the waistband, eyes flicking up to yours.

You give permission before Benny even has a chance to open his mouth.

The pads of his fingers push past the fabric, running softly your body until your breathing hitches as they lightly slip over your clit. You resist the urge to close your legs around his hand but can’t help the way your breathing audibly increases when it moves further down. Bare skin slides against your wet folds, stroking up and down; the movement slow and deliberate, and far too good for you hold it out for much longer.

You make a sound.

“Explain Closed Sicilian to me.” Your voice is strained, and you are trying very hard to not focus on every slight change in pressure Benny is subjecting you to right now. Another noise slips out and you bury your face against his chest, rolling your hips involuntarily against his hand. “Please, please explain it to me.”

“Now?” Benny’s other hand pushes against your hip.

“If you don’t, I’m going to come, and I’ve waited this long so I’d rather you didn’t do that before you’re actually inside me.” You lift your head to look up at him, quickly adding “Then again, you talking about that is just going to make it worse, so maybe don’t.” You did not need his eyes lighting up and his confidence going thrice its size because he was talking about something he really, really liked. That was bound to make your situation become much better and much worse really quick.

Benny looks like he’s about to protest before making a face and withdrawing his hand.

“Alright, fine.” He rolls you onto your back and kisses you hard, raising his hips as much as possible but keeping you down with his chest.

Letting you up to breathe Benny’s hands go to his belt, pulling it fully out of the loops this time. He catches the handle off his knife as it slides off the leather and off-handedly places it down on your stomach so he can roll the leather around his hand.

You must have done something as the sheath fell flat or as your eyes shifted up and back down again because Benny’s eyes flick from the belt in his hands to your eyes and then he smiles.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for knives too.” He teases.

“Listen” You’re a little too breathless for any type of denying being at all believable and it’s visible in Benny’s eyes how little he would actually believe you if you tried. “Messing with that takes practice and discussions, so let’s put a pin in that. I like seeing you get off, let’s leave it at that for now.”

He tilts his head like ‘fair enough’, finishes rolling up his belt and puts both that and the knife out of view to your left.

You reach up to brush Benny’s hair to the side where it’s over his eyes again, letting your fingers linger just above his ear. There’s something very recognizable about the slight way his eyes move at the gesture.

“Do you- like having your hair pulled?” You ask tentatively, and when Benny doesn’t answer right away you continue “You don’t have to say yes.”

It takes a second longer, and you start to pull your hand away before he shifts his eyes away and rolls his shoulders.

“So what if I do?” Benny glances back at you.

“I’ll tell you what” You smile encouraging, guiding the topic to focus on yourself instead to make him more comfortable. “you’d be in good hands; I like it both ways.” Benny visibly relaxes but you don’t move your hand back, favoring to slide it along his jaw to stop below his lower lip.

Softly tilting his head down, you give the slightest pressure. He follows down to peck your lips before drawing back to meet look at you again, hands rubbing reassuringly over your thighs. The pad of your thumb rests against Benny’s bottom lip, and you tilt your head, trying to read out the thoughts that form and disperse behind his eyes. The corner of his lip quirks up and he dips his head down to catch the finger in his mouth. The flat of his tongue maps your fingerprint, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You make a noise, shooting him a glare as he looks far too smug when you pull your hand back to press it against his back instead. The expression doesn’t leave his lips when you push his side to get him down, as a matter of fact he looks offensively at home against his pillow, shuffling further into it before beaming up at you again. Unable to stop yourself you scoff, trying to look annoyed but failing spectacularly.

“Think you’re ready to go again, if you want to?” You look at your watch, pinching the face of the clock to keep it so you can read the time. “It’s been an hour.”

“You still have your watch on?” Benny reaches up to pull your arm down so he can look at it.

You laugh.

“Well, you didn’t take it off me.” You let him turn your hand over, undoing the watch and looking at it for a second before handing it to you. Leaning over him you put it on the empty nightstand to your left.

“I’m so glad you’ve got two nightstands.” You hum, leaning back to resettle over his hips.

Thinking for a second, Benny makes a face, a mixture between a frown and scrunching up his face.

“It doesn’t make sense to only have one nightstand.” He states, eyes flicking back to yours. Smiling at his answer you bend down to peck his lips.

“That’s what I like about you, Benny Watts. Things can’t just be for you; they have to make sense.” Continuing in the same light tone you add “I might even go as far as to say I love you.”

“Woah, you’re just gonna show your hand like that?” Benny mimics shock, before smiling, his hands rubbing your hips reassuringly. “Throw the whole game?” You snort a little, moving your eyes to the wall, schooling your expression to be serious.

“As if you didn’t show your hand back at the bar.” You tilt your head exaggerated, pretend thought. “And earlier, now that you mention it.”

“I said liked.” Just like you, Benny is pressing his lips together to prevent himself from laughing, and even then, a smile cracks through.

“I’ll give you that, you did say like.”

Benny pulls you down, kissing you with a smile. Letting yourself sink into it you push down against him, swallowing the sound he makes and feeling his heart beating through his chest. His hands pull your hips closer to his to repeat the motion. His breathing increases as you do it infinitely slower this time, feeling you press against him, although you can’t say you are doing any better.

“Ready?” You laugh breathlessly and Benny groans, pushing his head back into the pillows.

“I was ready half an hour ago.”

“Well, good sex takes preparation. And this is going to be good.” Straightening up you putting the base of your hand on Benny’s chest, holding your index in front of his face to shush him. “No, no, it’s going to be, because I’ll make it so.”

Instead of arguing, with sparkling eyes Benny favors to bend his head forward and close his mouth around your finger, sucking while you talk. His tongue swirls around the digit and the corner of his lips quirk up when you make a sound, mind drifting before you catch it.

“Asshole.” Benny’s eyes light up mischievously at that, and when you pull your hand back, he raises his eyebrows.

“Oh you wan-?”

You cut him off.

“Shut up.” The bed shakes with Benny’s laughter, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him. He’s really having too much fun.

When his laughter calms down, Benny looks at you for a second before sitting up.

“Come on”

He nudges you sideways until you get the hint and get off him, letting him get off the bed. Benny offers his hand to pull you up after him. When you’re both on your feet he turns back and in one quick motion rips off the covers, throwing the corner to the middle so the bed is folded half-open diagonally but not all the way down.

You’re just letting your underwear drop onto the floor when Benny turns back around, and he catches up with you in the time it takes you to blink. He holds his hand out again, pulling you with him backwards.

Jut before his legs hit the bed Benny sidesteps, pulling you down first onto the bed and following, catching himself on his arm so he doesn’t fall directly on top of you.

Settling between your legs, Benny tilts his head with a cheeky smile.

“Comfortable now?”

You make a show of settling into the pillow, trying to divert his attention from the way you pull air deep into your lungs. It’s in the pillow, the sheets, the air vibrating around you with tension, but most of all it’s above you, radiating from him. The warm, slightly sweet, smell of clean cotton shirts pulled from the tumbler, a bed slept in until well past noon, and sun-heated leather in the first days of summer.

“Yes.” You smile up at him.

“Good.” Benny lowers down over you and presses his lips to yours, tongue running over your lip once before slipping into your mouth. You hum while he pulls protection from a drawer of one of the nightstands above your field of vision and pulls it on.

Fingers skim lightly over the wetness gathered between your legs, and then Benny pushes into you. It sends lightning through your stomach, sliding slowly, almost torturously, against sensitive nerve endings. His breath is slow and controlled, albeit a bit wavering. Solid warmth spreads from his body into yours and your body clenches involuntarily around him when he stills, breath warming the side of your neck. Your hands run up his sides to find purchase.

“You’re gonna mark me?” You ask the ceiling and Benny shifts, running his nose against your throat and giving you chills.

“You want me to?” His hips pull back slightly, and you close your eyes at the slow drag of his cock against your inner walls. As Benny pushes back in, one hand disappears from beside you, moving your hand from his back to his hair. Sparks dance up your spine when he thrusts a little quicker, igniting you both like a match against a striking surface. Benny makes a sound in the back of his throat before kissing you again.

Carding your fingers through his hair near his scalp you pull lightly. The way his hips jerk forward has you arching against him, moan mixing with his. Tension builds in your stomach and if the room was hot before it is blazing now. Benny presses against you, overwhelming and perfect, filling you. Your hips lift off the bed to meet his, legs crossed behind his back to pull him closer. The drag of his abdomen against you in just the right place has you whining against his lips. His next thrust is faster, causing your body to clench down, approaching the edge fast.

“I’ve waited this long to fuck a master; you better not make this be over quick.” Your hips arch against his despite your breathless words.

“You call an hour and a half quick?” Benny asks in disbelief, but the roll of his hips slows to delightfully slow, burning pulls. He closes his eyes, breathing becomes deliberately slowed. “I’m not going to last long no matter how slow I go.”

“That’s okay, neither am I.” You quirk the corner of your lip as Benny opens his eyes again and pull him back down to your lips. Trying to starve of your orgasm you focus on tasting every corner of his mouth. It seems to have the opposite effect on Benny, as he whines and his hips stutter. One of his arms buckle and you pull your hand free to direct his to your hair before going back to his.

The first slow drag releases a satisfied noise from you, and the slight sting of the next sends a thrill down your body, connecting with where Benny’s cock pushes into you. He slides his tongue against yours, pulling your head close to his.

“Fuck” The word falls from both of your mouths as your fingers pulls the blond strands they’re tangled in, and Benny’s hips jerk forward. You push your hand against his lower back to push him down, deeper, and he pulls your hips up with his free hand, grinding against you. His eyes glitter with pride when you arch, pressing your head into the pillow, mouth falling open.

Unsatisfied, Benny slows even further, changing thrusts for slow grinds, watching you trying to make a sound with a smile, heels pressing into his lower back. Your eyes flutter, trying desperately to stay open, pleasure coursing through you in unrelenting waves. Meeting his eyes, you jerk your hand a little harder in Benny’s hair, and the sound he produces almost has you falling.

His hand pushes between your bodies as he moves faster again. The pleasure is hot and fast, and as Benny pulls your lips to his it explodes, fire shooting through your veins in search of oxygen and shaking your entire body. He swallows the cries of his name falling from your lips, but then his hips stutter and slipping from your lips he repays the praise. It’s loud, it’s messy, and it’s so fucking hot.

Benny drops his head in the crook of your neck, weakly trying to hold himself up. Your chest pushes against his until both your accelerated breathing reaches the same rhythm. There is pleasant ache starting to make itself known, one you’re sure you’ll be feeling tomorrow, and perhaps the day after that.

Softly you push Benny over and he lets himself be rolled onto his back, still inside you. Head landing on the pillow he takes a few more breaths before his eyes pop open. When they meet yours there is a content smile on his lips, with only a hint of unsedated hunger still visible in his dark eyes. He reaches forward to meet your smiling kiss and lets you pull off him and roll onto the mattress beside him.

After a few seconds of just the sound for your breathing your voice comes alive again.

“I hope we didn’t wake anyone.”

Benny starts laughing, breathlessly and beautifully, and you scrunch your nose playfully at him.

“I hope we did.” He looks at you, eyes brilliant, and adds in a more serious tone. “I think they’re all asleep so they can get up at a reasonable hour tomorrow.”

You reach over and pull your watch from the nightstand.

“Two isn’t a reasonable hour to be up?” Benny snorts a laugh at your fake naiveté as you settle back into the bed.

There’s a few more seconds of silence before he talks again.

“I still only made you come once.” Benny looks at you, eyes flicking down to your lips and back up; the hunger more than unsated now.

“That’s okay” You smile teasingly. “I wouldn’t expect you to, you did all the hard work.”

Benny doesn’t find an answer to that, but you have a feeling neither of you think two is very late at all.

#I fucking called the watch thing I'm so proud!#I'm glad the internet agrees that Benny has both bi and switch energy #benny watts #benny watts x reader #the queen's gambit

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

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Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes

#philza x reader #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #yandere philza x reader #yandere technoblade x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt #dream smp #dream smp x reader #technoblade dream smp #philza dream smp #technoblade dreamsmp #philza dreamsmp #phil dream smp #phil dreamsmp #mcyt au #dsmp #mcyt god au

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Batsis & Green Lantern, Sittin’ In A Tree. K-I-S-S-I-N–Wait, Is That Our Sister? PT. 2

Kyle Rayner x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: NSFW (Slightly), Explicit Language Tags: @starflyer-104

Author's Note: Hi I finished this! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Oddly enough, she didn’t make Kyle do anything other than design the first month he was at Wayne Manor. And she was true to her word. He had an entire room to himself, and the room was as big as his whole apartment, bigger if he was honest; and that wasn’t all—he had every instrument an artist could ever want, even some of the newest drawing tablets and pens that hadn’t even come out yet. Limited edition first pick that only someone like her could get her hands on by merely flashing that pretty smile and her last name of “Wayne”. It was a graphic artists dream come alive, and Kyle was afraid that he was going to wake up from it that he never once tried to pinch himself to see if it was a dream or not.

Surprisingly enough though, (Y/N) was being awfully nice to him too. She’d taken him shopping a bunch of times, a whole new wardrobe and even thrown in a new phone and laptop. Of course, Kyle wasn’t a fool and immediately confronted her about using her purchases to hold it over him. That was the one instance in which she wasn’t awfully nice because she sucker-punched him and told him to never call her a manipulator ever again. That she had never once used a purchase to force someone into something—she was a bitch but she wasn’t that kind of bitch.

He even questioned Jason about it once they got back to the manor and his friend cackled at the nice shiner he’d received. (Y/N) doesn’t buy things for people to make them do what she wants. She buys things for people because that’s how she shows she’s fond of them. Honestly, if she buys you what you want, especially if you ask for it, that’s how you know she thinks you’re a friend of hers. Just let her spoil you for a while, Rayner. You’ll miss it when you have to go back to NYC.

Kyle relented then, instead of fighting her on paying for everything, he watched her. Watched her when he asked for something. Just for a split second she’d get a look of honest surprise in her eyes before that smirk crossed her lips and she’d toss it in the basket before picking up her own needs. He found it almost endearing, the way she acted, like she wasn’t expecting him to ask for anything. And Kyle especially liked that look in her eyes. It made his heart beat a little faster when she gazed at him with those big eyes.

And while he did love that look, it only lasted for one month. Hell had come to the manor, and Kyle was smack in the middle of it.

***

“Good morning family!” she greeted cheerfully, placing her hands on Kyle’s shoulders. She received various replies, some happy, some tired, and Kyle gave his own.

“Morning, (Y/N). You seem happy.” He cut into the buttery waffle and started bringing the fork to his mouth when she grabbed his hand and gently but firmly, took the utensil into her mouth. Kyle couldn’t help but go slack jawed as she chewed and swallowed, offering him a smirk.

“I’m sorry,” she purred. “Did you want that?” His mouth opened and closed, and she pushed the plate forward, replacing it with a tall smoothie shaker that was a bright, sickly green.

“Uh…” he started, looking between the shaker and her. “What’s that?”

(Y/N) nodded at it. “That’s your breakfast for this morning.” She flipped the cap open. “It’s got spinach, kale, bananas, vanilla flavored protein powder, pineapple, mint leaves and spirulina.” She grinned. “It’s got all the protein and greens you need for the start of this wonderful day.”

“I don’t even know what spirulina is.” Kyle remarked.

“Blue-green algae super-food.” (Y/N) nodded at it. “From now on you’re going to drink smoothies every morning and then we’re going to weight train and run every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

Her family started snickering around the table and Kyle swallowed thickly daring to ask, “And Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

She grinned wickedly at him. “Combat, Rayner.” Handing him the shake, she quipped, “Drink up me hearties.”

“Yo ho.” Kyle whimpered when he sniffed it and gagged.

***

“C’mon weakling,” she nagged. “You’ve barely gotten through the second set. Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”

Kyle groaned as he pushed the weighted bar up, holding it for a second before letting it fall. “I told you I can bench press one-hundred. You put one-twenty on this bar,” he griped through gritted teeth.

(Y/N) smirked. “Feel that pain though? It’s weakness leaving your body.” She grabbed the bar with one hand, pulling it up and onto the hold; she grinned as Kyle panted, chest heaving up and down with every sharp intake of breath.

“I—don’t know—how you do this—everyday.” He gasped and she snorted.

“No pain, no gain, Rayner.” She walked around him, and Kyle was too weak to keep his eyes off her as she did. “Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow,” she cooed, throwing a leg over his hips, lowering onto his thighs.

Kyle’s throat tightened and he gazed at her as she leaned forward, propping her elbows on his chest, staring into his eyes. “Pretty close there,” he panted and (Y/N) smiled.

“Closer the better in my opinion.” Her eyes narrowed bemusedly. “From here I can get a good view of your form.” She pulled away. “You’re using your lower back to push strength into your arms. This time, use your chest and shoulders. Deep breath when you push up, breathe out when you lower, okay?”

He nodded, grabbing the bar again. “What set now?”

“Three. Five reps.” (Y/N) pressed a hand to his abdomen. “Core muscles tight. Glutes tight. Keep the stability and use your upper body muscles alright?”

“Got it.” He said, pulling the bar off and she felt his pelvis start to push upwards and she splayed her fingers.

“Chest, Kyle. Not your hips.” He grunted, trying harder, and she put all her weight onto his hips, keeping them pressed down to the bench. It showed in his form as he improved almost instantaneously. “Nice job,” she murmured. “Keep going.”

He got to the fifth rep, starting to go up, when she purred, “Your arms are very strong, Kyle. I wonder just how strong.”

Something in her voice made his heart stutter and he forgot momentarily what he was doing. The bar shifted downwards, and he gasped as it came down at him; (Y/N) reached out, quick as lightning and grabbed it with both hands, standing from his legs to put the bar back.

She looked down at him, concern in her eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Sorry…lost my grip.” (Y/N) nodded and shimmied away, holding out a hand to him. “Thanks,” he said, letting her pull him up.

“Take five and go get some water, alright?”

He wanted to shake his head, tell her no, that he could keep going, but he thought against it and started for the water fountain in the corner. As he bent over, he happened to look back at her, seeing her bent over, stretching her legs. Heat pooled low in his gut, and he groaned, turning his eyes away.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed. “Get a grip.”

“Let’s go, Rayner!” she called out behind him. “We’ve got two miles to run!”

Kyle let his head hand and he groaned again.

***

Compared to the day before, getting his ass kicked wasn’t as bad as it had seemed. That being said, (Y/N) wasn’t pulling her punches with him and he hadn’t managed to lay a single hit on her an hour in.

He gasped as she dropped him onto his back and he laid flat, gazing at the ceiling before him; she leaned over him, a cocky smirk on her face. “Need a break?”

“I’m not a novice in hand to hand. I trained with J’onn J’onnz for a while.” He countered with a glare and surprisingly, she nodded, rather impressed.

“I can tell in your form. You counter like he does.” (Y/N) bent down and gently swept away the sweaty hair from his forehead. “You’re learning pretty quick though, if I do say so myself.”

Kyle’s face lit up. “Really? You think—”

“But I can see that it takes you getting your ass handed to you over and over again before the lesson sinks in.”

His face pinched and he griped, “I should’ve seen that coming.”

(Y/N) snorted and patted his head, mocking, “You’re learning.” She smiled. “Now get up. You’ve rested long enough.”

“UGHHH!” he groaned, climbing to his feet.

***

On the third month and final month of the project, Kyle noticed a major improvement in himself. Not only had he lost a few of those extra pounds from snacking, toning all over his body, he’d also managed to expand his stamina a great deal. (Y/N) had congratulated him when he managed to run the various miles without even breaking a sweat.

The designs had come in well too, and Kyle honestly had more money than he knew what to do with. Well, rent and utilities were his most prominent factor, but even then, the money he’d have left over would last him a long time. He almost felt sad when they got to the final week of the project, no longer needing drawings, he was mostly there to make sure the designs were made correctly and with good materials.

(Y/N)’d even given him one of the first sets they produced and even if he was used to seeing his drawings published, it was another thing to see his name on the tag with it. It made him giddy, and he didn’t know how to rope that in with the continued nagging in the back of his brain. That it was all ending in a week. No more breakfast being made, no more laundry done, no more seeing his friends all the time and patrolling with them…and no more (Y/N) constantly.

When he thought about that, Kyle’s chest started to tighten, heart starting to hurt a lot more than he wanted to admit. And he knew why—somewhere along the lines of (Y/N)’s continual ass-kicking and training, he’d fallen in love with her. With her crude attitude and cocky smirks, her proud demeanor and skill, her beauty and the occasional kindness she showed to people, but most importantly, the love she showed for her family.

Most people saw an arrogant bitch who could school people six ways from Sunday both verbally and physically, but what they didn’t see, was the care she paid to those she loved most. To Dick’s anger issues, to Jason’s frequent regrets, to Tim’s consistent depression, to Cassandra’s ever-evolving education, to Damian’s rapid growth, to her father’s hurting soul—she cared so deeply for them, would give anything for them, even her life if it meant. And that made Kyle want to fall at her feet and worship her.

That this beautiful woman who allowed people to talk about her and never cared to correct, was the greatest woman alive, the most loving, the most caring. And she was hard, she was, but her love was tough and those that received it, her siblings and her closest friends, they knew she loved them completely. Kyle knew she cared for him. He only hoped that she wanted more.

***

The production party had been held in France and Kyle had never seen so many elites in one spot that he wasn’t sure how to even drink from his champagne chute correctly. Luckily, (Y/N) had stayed with him all night, tucking herself in his side and covering when he faltered in front of someone who didn’t speak English. And God, there was something very sexy about the way her lips moved when she spoke fluent French.

The party lasted well into the night and by the time they got back to the penthouse, he was dead on his feet. The siblings had dispersed to their rooms and (Y/N) stayed up a bit to speak with Alfred and Bruce over the phone. Kyle lingered around the kitchen with her and when she hung up, she sighed heavily, pulling out the dangling golden earrings and removing the chunky diamond necklace that probably costed more than Kyle did.

Her eyes met his and she smiled tiredly. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“I did,” he said happily. “It was…interesting to see what your life is like.” He chuckled. “Well, your day life that is.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and he wandered around the island, daring enough to reach up and grab her shoulders, digging his thumbs into her muscles. She groaned and hung her head a bit.

“Feel good?” he questioned, and she nodded.

“I don’t typically wear heels unless it’s for a party and I remember why.” Sighing, she pulled away from his arms and he just barely managed to keep the sadness from crossing his face as she turned. “What about you? Are you okay?”

Kyle shrugged. “Feel like I could sleep for a few days straight, but isn’t that how we all work?”

(Y/N) snorted, then sighed wistfully. “I almost don’t want this night to end.”

“How come?” he asked, and she met his gaze.

“I like seeing you flounder like a fish in front of socialites.” He rolled his eyes and she laughed, shoving him lightly. “I’m joking.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. “It’s been fun having around the manor. I know Dick and Jason have enjoyed hanging out with you.” She smiled and pulled away. “You should come back around after tomorrow.”

(Y/N) bypassed him and started towards her room when he spun and called her. “(Y/N).” she stopped and looked at him, waiting, expecting, and Kyle decided to lay his cards to her, letting her decide. “Spend the night with me.”

For a moment, she was surprised, honest to God surprised, then she smiled sweetly, something he wasn’t really used to, and she murmured, “Come with me.”

And Kyle barely managed to keep himself from tripping over his own feet as he hurried after her.

***

“Shut the door behind you,” she said, and he knew that just from the tone of her voice that she was the one who held the power—not that he cared, all he wanted was her. He felt his heart lurch as the door closed and she motioned him to come behind her. “Mind unzipping me?”

Kyle swallowed thickly as he reached up and grasped the gold zipper, gently tugging it down to where it stopped just above her rear. He also happened to notice that she wasn’t wearing any undergarments and he cursed under his breath. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

She grinned and with one hand undid the buttons behind her neck, then reached back, pulling his hands until his palms were pressed to her bare skin. “Be a dear and slip my dress off for me, hmm?” she leaned back into his hands. “Shouldn’t be too hard now.”

Before Kyle knew what he was doing, his hands were moving underneath the fabric of her dress, around her waist and up her chest, gently grabbing at the flesh of her breasts. (Y/N) gasped, a sound so saccharine in his ears, and leaned her head back on his shoulder.

“Kyle,” she whispered and with his pointer fingers, circled her nipples. Another gasp escaped her as she arched into his touch and she turned her head to the underside of his jaw, sucking the skin at his neck.

“(Y/N),” he groaned, rubbing up against her rear. “Baby...”

She was pushing away from him then, much to his dismay and she spun around, grasping at his suit. “Take your clothes off. All of them. Now.”

All that commanding she was doing was shooting straight to his cock and he obeyed immediately, not even caring about the dress shirt as he ripped it open, the buttons scattering across the carpet. He’d just gotten to his belt when he saw (Y/N) pull down her dress and he almost collapsed on his weak knees when her body came into full view.

For three whole months he’d been slowly driven insane by her tight clothes, guiltily imagining what she looked like underneath during the night, more often than not, relieving the urge.

She smirked and walked up to him, digging her fingers into the top of his pants and turned, pulling him along. They reached the beg and she yanked, sending him backwards onto the bed with a grunt, and then she was climbing atop him.

“I thought you wanted—” he gasped when she grabbed him through his pants. “I thought you wanted me to be naked.”

(Y/N) winked and squeezed him. “I changed my mind.” Leaning close, she let her lips hover above his. “I wanna see how needy I can get you.”

Kyle glared at her and surged forward, sealing her lips in a kiss before he wrapped an arm around her waist, tipping them over. She groaned into their kiss and wrapped her legs around waist. He let his free hand roam her body, caressing her side, squeezing her hip, slipping beneath her leg to grab at the flesh of her thigh. Each grasp, each pinch, each touch had her gasping and Kyle rocked against her, moaning under his breath.

Her fingers busied themselves with his belt and when she got it open, she unbuttoned his pants, and pushed them down a bit. Kyle pulled back to help but the second his hands left her body, he knew he made a mistake because she locked her ankles and placed her hands on his shoulders, shoving back. His back hit the bed and she was on top of him again, this time pinning his hands beside his head.

“Bad boy,” she admonished. “You weren’t supposed to move.”

“Sorry,” he retorted, but he wasn’t. Not in the slightest. “Couldn’t help myself.” He accentuated his point with a deep roll of his hips, and she grip briefly weakened as she ground herself down on him.

“You’re going to help yourself.” She warned, eyes devouring him where he lay. “Every movement is fifteen minutes added to how long I’m going to tease you.”

Kyle grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

(Y/N) matched his grin and before he could even see her move, she had a pillow from the top of the bed placed on his chest, long side up, enough to cover her from sight.

“What are you—” The door opened, and he tipped his head back on the mattress, seeing Dick and Jason gaping at them from the doorway.

For a solid moment, they all stared at one another, too shocked to say a word, then Dick and Jason were letting out the girliest screams Kyle had ever heard them make and they slammed the door shut.

(Y/N) sighed heavily and pressed her face into the pillow. “Lovely. Now we’re going to be all over the group chats.”

Kyle blinked, looking up at her. “You think so?”

“I know so.” She looked at him. “I knew I should’ve booked a penthouse across from this one.” (Y/N) started crawling off him when he reached out and grabbed her hips, keeping her in place; she cocked a brow. “Really? Your mood’s not killed?”

A flash of green appeared in her vision, then the door locked, and he smirked at her. “Nothing can kill my mood for you.” He squeezed her tightly. “Is yours?”

“Not in the slightest.” She reached down and traced the smirk on his lips. “Do me a favor though.”

“Anything,” Kyle agreed, and she grinned wickedly.

“Call me ma’am again.”

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