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#I knew it would make him even hotter xD
amethystina · 2 months
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I catch myself thinking about Who holds the devil when my mental stability is falling apart. Your story helps me to stay afloat.
Thank you
I'm so sorry to hear that you're struggling and, if I could, I would definitely give you a big hug. But, since that's not possible, I'm glad that I can still offer some comfort through my fic.
I've said it before, but knowing that my writing can give people hope, stability, or even just a distraction is the reason why I post. I will always write, but I choose to post it online because, just maybe, it can brighten someone's day.
And so please remember that. Even if I might not be able to update as often as I used to (due to my own health problems) I will always keep posting as long as there are people like you. As long as people enjoy what I do, I'll continue to share it.
I do it for you 💜
And while I don't have any snippets and such that I can share to maybe help you along, here's a simple sketch I just finished of Yo Han, on the subject of "You want to fuck that old man so bad it makes you look stupid."
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As I said to my friends:
Benefits of drawing: If I want to know what Yo Han looks like in the black Henley outfit I gave him in Who Holds the Devil, I can draw it
Downsides of drawing: I now know what Yo Han looks like in that black Henley outfit
... and now you all do too. You're welcome.
So yeah. Hang in there, darling, and do whatever you have to do to get through the day. I'm so glad that my writing helps. And even if I don't know you — and even if it may sound cheesy — please remember that I care about you. And, if I could, I would take all the pain away.
Take care 💜
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dingbatnix · 9 months
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Lasagna
Gosh dang you notice how weird that is to spell? English is so freaking weird you'd think there'd be a 'Y' in friggin 'la-za-nya' but no I guess not xD. Anyway, so I had some lasagna the other day and it was really good, + I had a small drabble floating around of Sapnap being able to survive being baked in an oven, sooooo this appeared!
O yeah taglist: @i-am-beckyu @brick-a-doodle-do @kayla-crazy-stuffs here you go @da3dm a bit late but oop xD
Also I did an art for this : D
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Poor Sap, he is a frighten. Anyway.
Word Count: 2,686
Warnings: Fear of death, fear of being eaten, yeah that's about it. No actual noms this time, but it's very close ; D
The furnace was hot, and the quickly melting cheddar cheese was even hotter. Sapnap tried to wriggle, heart pounding heavily in his chest from the panic and adrenaline that was overwhelming his system, but it was no use. There were layers of pasta, cheese, and sauce weighing down his entire body, and he just could not move. Honestly, he was surprised he could breathe at all, what with the blanket of noodles over his head. He was lucky his earlier wriggling had created a pocket of air, even if it was only a small one.
Sapnap was…currently stuck. He hadn’t meant to fall into the pan of uncooked lasagna during a brief spell when the human had been gone. It was a total accident! He’d just wanted to grab some of the deliciously alluring cheese that was all over the top of the pasta, but he got startled when the human walked back into the room and had fallen in. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on which way Sapnap wanted to look at it, he’d fallen hard enough that he had been embedded deeply into the noodles, and he was fortunate the human hadn’t noticed the indent, but…the bean had proceeded to put more layers of lasagna over the top, trapping Sapnap underneath them.
Sapnap hadn’t been able to struggle free in time, and next he knew, the pasta, and more importantly, he, was put into the blazing hot furnace. The borrower bit his lip with a sharp canine, holding back a long whine of terror. It wasn't the fear of physical injury that was giving him such horrible anxiety, no, not that. Sapnap was born in fire, the heat didn't hurt him. No, it was the fear of discovery that locked his joints and seized his lungs. He didn’t know what was worse: The fact that he might be discovered, or the fact that there was the very real possibility that he might be accidentally eaten by an unaware human.
That, and also maybe the fact that there was a chance he would be impaled by a human's fork.
He wriggled again, sucking in another short breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. What a way to go out. It was a good thing he didn’t have any family left, a good thing there would be nobody to mourn him. He wouldn’t be able to live with…or, well. He couldn’t bear it if he were leaving anybody to fend for themselves, alone, in the world that was way too big for them. He’d feel awful.
It was a long, long forty minutes Sapnap was trapped in the maybe-a-little-too-warm oven. Sure, he was a nether-born, and he could swim in lava if he really wanted to, but that didn’t mean that it’d be good for him to do so. He’d get heat-sick.
The borrower was almost relieved when the pan was pulled out of the oven, but the overwhelming thought that none of this was over just yet crushed that feeling very quickly. He still couldn’t get free, the weight of all of the pasta on top of his body too much for him to move.
A thud jarred his body, and then he heard the human’s voice, too muffled and indistinct to make out, high above his head. Then, he heard a nauseating squelch as the lasagna was cut. Sapnap shivered, but didn’t have much time to dwell on it. To his utter, complete horror, the chunk he was stuck in was lifted free from the pan. He still couldn’t see anything, but he felt when everything was jarred again. Vertigo swirled through his head as everything started moving, and he had to try desperately to control his breathing and not burst out into terrified whimpering. 
Sapnap tried struggling again, but everything was still too closely packed, and the jarring movements of the human had made the pasta shift, all but burying Sapnap’s small pocket of air. He tried not to hyperventilate. He didn’t know if it’d be better or worse if he was found unconscious. Probably worse. There’d be no chance to run away if he were comatose.
He felt more than saw the tines of a metal fork scrape underneath him, spearing through one of the big flat noodles underneath his body. He felt a tine scrape along his spine, sending skin-crawling shivers wracking his body, and it took him only a moment to realize that the strap of his bag had been caught around the metal prong. He tried tugging at it as he was lifted up, but the leather was caught too tightly.
Sapnap looked up, chest heaving wildly, and a huge, gaping red maw filled his vision. His heart nearly exploded from the sheer terror, and his breath froze in his lungs. Those teeth were nearly as big as he was! 
The borrower jerked his limbs, attempting to jump off of the fork, but the strap of his bag and the congealed pasta held him stuck fast. He tried heaving himself up, but it was no use! A quick glance back up at his approaching death made his own mouth go dry. He was fire-retardant, yeah, but he wouldn't be able to survive being chewed to bits! 
Sapnap let loose a scream that could rival a phantom’s, sure he was about to die. Be it by the human’s teeth, or by the human’s hands, he wasn’t sure, but his doom was imminently approaching, and there was nothing he could do about it.
°°°°°°°°
George froze, fork midway to his mouth. The hand fiddling with his communicator stilled, and he glanced down with wide eyes, sure he had just heard someone scream. A flash of movement snatched his gaze to his forkful of pasta, and then all George could do was stare.
There was a tiny creature on his fork, tangled up in thick clumps of cheese and sauce. Its little chest was heaving, and its tiny teeth were bared in a fearful grimace as it met George’s eyes.
The creature tried to lunge off of the utensil, but the partially congealed cheese held it stuck fast. As George watched, he realized that the strap of its tiny bag was caught on one of the tines of his fork. A terrified noise escaped from the creature’s mouth, jolting the brunette out of his startled stupor.
George shrieked and dropped the fork, shoving back from the table and shooting to his feet. His communicator clattered to the table, forgotten in the brunette’s panic.
The creature gave another tiny scream of its own as it fell, wriggling and thrashing against the congealed pasta that held it hostage, but it didn’t seem like it was strong enough to break away.
It hit the table with a small, wet splat, snapping the strap of its bag and knocking it free from the fork, and then it was trying to scramble away, but cheese was still gluing its limbs together, even the tiny, tufted tail that trailed from its spine. George gaped, watching in bewilderment as the creature struggled to pull itself off of the table. It finally managed to free an arm, which spurred George into action.
He snatched up Dream's empty cup and slammed it down over the tiny creature, trapping it underneath the ceramic container. A tiny, muffled sound escaped from the mug as George yanked his hand back, staring down at it in disbelief. What the hell…?
"George? Everything okay?" Dream poked his head around the doorframe, concern creasing the shape of his brow. His eyes took in the mess on the table and George standing a good couple of feet away from it. 
"There's a tiny man under the mug." George mumbled, staring blankly at the overturned mug, and then up at Dream. The blond’s face scrunched up in bewilderment, and he looked at George like he had grown a second head. “What?” 
“There’s a tiny man under the mug,” George reiterated, pointing at the overturned pink mug for emphasis. His face suddenly screwed up in disgust. "It was in my food!" He exclaimed, waving his hands emphatically at the barely-touched plate of lasagna on the table. Dream had to hold back a small laugh.
Interest piqued, the tall blonde moved to the table and looked over the upside down mug curiously. It seemed normal enough…
Carefully, Dream wrapped a hand around the mug and quickly flipped it over, cupping his other hand over the top so whatever the creature was couldn’t escape and gently set the cup back down on the table. Slowly, he removed his hand, peering down inside of the mug to see what George was freaking out so much about.
Something was pressed up against the inside side of the cup, staring at Dream. Dream had to stop when he finally got a good glimpse of it, shock and disbelief coloring his expression. George was right. It–err, more namely, he, was just a tiny guy. He was incredibly small, maybe about two or three inches in stature. He had a long, thin tail like a mouse that faded to a rich brown at the tip, where a plume of dark fluff seemed to sprout. The fluff was still tangled and gunked up with pasta, but the little guy either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Two pointed ears stuck out from the sides of his head, also dark at the tips. Those tiny ears were laid back against the little guy’s head, and were twitching rather frantically.
Miniature blue eyes stared back up at Dream, and the pure terror he could see radiating out of them was like a punch to the gut. Dream immediately felt bad for the little thing, and was quick to try and reassure him.
“Hey–” Dream started, but was quickly interrupted by George. "Why were you in my food?" The brunette demanded, stepping closer to the table and leaning over the ceramic cup to see the little creature better. He quailed under George’s gaze, his whole, tiny body trembling as his breath hitched up.
“George, you’re scaring him,” Dream cut in, dropping a hand over the shorter man’s shoulder and gently tugging him away from the mug. Seeing George’s petulant expression looming over him couldn’t have been too nice for the little guy.
“I’m scaring him?” George snapped with a scowl. “Well, I’m not the one who was in the freaking lasagna! I nearly had a heart attack!” He glowered at the tiny ravenette, crossing his arms and straightening up his spine.
"I just…I wanted some cheese, man! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fall in!" The voice, quiet and breathless and shaking, was a surprise to both Dream and George, but it was nice to know that the little guy could speak, nice to know that he could understand them.
"Well...here," If all the little guy wanted was some cheese, Dream wasn’t going to just deny him any. That would be mean. The blond snagged a small plate from the clean dish rack and set it on the table, then scooped up a forkful lasagna and plopped it in the center of the new plate. He then reached towards the mug, intent on letting the little dude out so he could get some of the pasta. Before his hand was even close, the tiny man shrieked, throwing himself down to the bottom of the cup and shielding his head with his arms. Dream froze, shooting a concerned glance at George, who shrugged, uncertainly. Wh…why was the little guy so scared? It wasn’t like Dream was going to hurt him.
Dream stooped down a little bit, trying not to loom over the guy’s head so much, and dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Hey, it’s alright. You’re alright. I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” The ravenette only whined, body shaking as his tiny, tufted, cheese-infused tail curled around his form. Dream frowned, and tried again, slowly reaching out to wrap his hands around the mug. “Do you…I’m going to let you out of the cup now, okay? Then you can have some of George’s lasagna. We’re not going to hurt you, little guy.” He assured again, trying to reiterate that everything would be alright.
Carefully, Dream lifted the mug and slowly tipped it over next to the plate of pasta, wincing guiltily when the tiny man uncurled from his ball with a yelp and tried to scramble back up the side of the mug. He slid out onto the table with barely a sound, and he stumbled backwards until the backs of his thighs met the rim of the plate. He tipped over, arms pinwheeling, but managed to land in a sit on the edge of the ceramic. He froze then, staring up at George and Dream while sucking in short, panting breaths of air.
“It’s alright, you’re okay,” Dream tried again, a flash of guilt flaring up in his chest. He and George weren’t…really that scary, were they? Dream hoped not. The tiny guy had nothing to fear from them.
While Dream tried to calm the small man down, George turned to one of the cabinets and pulled out a rag. The little ravenette was still caked in pasta, and it had to be annoying. He ran it under the faucet for a good few seconds, then turned back to the dinner table, where he saw that Dream had crouched down to be closer to eye level with the little guy. George set the warm, damp rag next to the tiny ravenette. “Here. So you can get all of that off you.” George offered. The tiny guy flinched away from George’s hand, but then hesitantly took up a corner of the rag and started working through the tangled mess of fluff and pasta at the end of his tail. George winced sympathetically as he sat back down. That looked like it hurt.
“So…do you have a name, dude? Or should we just keep calling you, ‘little guy?” Dream asked, leaning his elbows against the table as he slid into the chair opposite George’s. 
“S…Sapnap. I–my name is, is Sapnap.” The little guy offered, his tiny voice nearly a whisper. The two humans very nearly couldn’t hear it, and had to lean a bit closer to hear him properly.
“Were you…did I—were you in the furnace?!” George suddenly blurted, stomach twisting. He would have noticed if there was a tiny man in the pasta when he’d gotten some, wouldn’t he? Like if there was an indent or something, right? Maybe George had missed it. He hoped he had. There was no way the little guy would have survived being baked in the nearly four-hundred degree furnace.
“O-oh. Er, yeah, I was.” He seemed to notice the horrified expression of George’s face, because then he raised his hands and shook them disarmingly. “I–don’t worry, I’m fine! I was, I was born in the nether, I can take a little heat!”
George didn’t look like he fully believed him, and when he glanced at the other human, Dream, he looked mostly concerned, but Sapnap didn’t really care. It’s not like it mattered, right? It…they weren’t planning to stick him back in the furnace, were they? He tugged viciously at a particularly stubborn tangle and winced, pushing most of his thoughts to the backburner. He was alive, he wasn’t hurt, yet, and the humans seemed content to just watch him, for now. 
He couldn’t run away as he was right this moment. His bag was still tangled around the pasta-covered fork dozens of inches away, and there was still lasagna all over him, making it harder and harder to move as the cheese started to cool down and congeal. He’d…he’d have to escape later.
Sapnap hoped desperately to End that they weren't going to kill him after all of this. Maybe they just wanted to keep him as a pet…? Even though the thought was so distressing that Sapnap nearly whimpered, it’d be better than being outright killed. At least, if they kept him as a pet, at least he’d have a chance to escape. 
Eventually.
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yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt · 5 months
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Hi! I am fond of your fics, ty for blessing the fandom with such content :D /pos
As for the request... How about a short&sweet movie!goldenheart thingy with precanon transgender Ballister being a bit self-conscious abt his body and Ambrosius reassuring him (goes perfect with your body worship hc tbh)
Might be T, might be E, it's all up to you XD
(Should have I really turned the anonymous option on? I feel like it's really obvious who I am atp)
Anyway I hope you're having a great day and you get paid a lot of money B)
Hi hi yes finally finished this one, stranger!!! I am so glad you enjoy my work and I hope you enjoy this one!!! Ambrosius loves his man so much stg
Cw: referenced sex, some gender dysphoria (obviously) and minor internalized transphobia
Ballister admired his facial hair in the mirror. He'd been terribly proud ever since it had started growing in, and he'd cut his hair. He was grateful for the resources available to him that he never before would have been able to access as a kid on the street. Yes, his face was finally molding into a shape he liked to see.
His body was a bit of a different story. He was elated, of course, when he got approved for top surgery, but the scars were still very visible against his skin, they hadn't faded yet. He hoped that his chest hair would make them harder to see. And all that's not even mentioning that he'd not been able to get bottom surgery yet. The damn Institution said it would interrupt his training too long because of the recovery time.
It's not like it would matter. Ballister could avoid mirrors for the rest of his life if he needed. He'd never had to deal with his own body much. He was very good at distancing himself from it. That is, until, his best friend turned into his boyfriend and that relationship turned from innocent to sexual very fast.
It was hot, and fun, but honestly a bit awkward and miserable at first. Ballister thought Ambrosius was straight at one point. If a straight man liked him, what did that mean? Did the person he trusted most in the world see him as something other than who he really was? Then he found out that Ambrosius was gay and that was somehow just as stressful because what if he wasn't enough? What if his partner was biding his time until Ballister got surgery? What if he didn't like him as he was? What if he never did?
Ballister startled when Ambrosius entered the room, his lover's eyes immediately widened and he bit his lip. “Hey, sexy.” He slinked his way over and nibbled Ballister's neck, slinking his arms around his waist. “How lucky do I have to be to come home to the hottest man in the world topless in my dorm?”
Ballister snorted, as if it wasn't practically their dorm. He slept here and half his stuff was here, because this dorm was much nicer than his. They used his dorm as storage and a hangout to play video games in. They actually lived here.
“I'm happy I can be topless in your dorm, finally.” Ballister chuckled with awkward intonation, and Ambrosius kissed his shoulder. “I'm happy too, that you feel comfortable doing so. But you always could if you'd wanted, your body was never and could never be a problem for me. I just want you to be happy!”
Ballister smiled. “Really? Even if– Even without– I don't know. I'm masculine enough for you? I mean, you're gay, and you've known me since we were kids.”
Ambrosius gave him a look and caressed the stubble on his cheek. “I’ve always liked you. Gave me a whole crisis about my sexuality before you came out, because I exclusively liked men except for, I thought, you. Turns out my gay ass knew something about you before you told me.” He chuckled. “You've only gotten hotter, but you've always been perfect, and you'll always be more than man enough for me. Plus, no offense, Bal, I don't think you've got quite enough in the way of feminine wiles to drive my man-loving ass away.”
Ballister glanced at the mirror and burst out laughing at the sight of his muscular, bulky, hairy body contrasted with the phrase "feminine wiles". It wasn't that those things couldn't be feminine, but they certainly weren't in his case, and the idea of anyone seeing, let alone being attracted to him as a straight woman seemed a bit ridiculous upon reflection. “Alright, alright. Thanks.”
Ambrosius grinned and kissed him, fingers fiddling with the waistband of his shorts. “Now that that's settled, would you be interested in me sucking your dick and fingering you? I've got a couple hours before my next class.”
Ballister smirked, “Only if I can suck your dick and finger you.”
Ambrosius pretended to be contemplative for a moment despite the excitement that flashed behind his eyes. “Hm, yeah, I suppose I'd be amenable to that.” He grinned and in another instant, their bodies were melded together, just two young men in love.
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yallemagne · 5 months
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I just want you to know that I go stare at your pinned post of the drawing of Jonathan and the moth, like, every other day. It just stirs up feelings that I don't really have a name for, but I am obsessed.
Also, I know you didn't want to make young Dracula hot, but I'm sorry, he's hot. XD
You don't know how much this means to me <;333. Link.
I'm always so happy when I get comments on thaaaat. One day I need to make the whole thing wagh. I especially like people who like the moth because I had to draw Jonathan's whole face and then cover it up twice, and that is my level of dedication to the Moth Jonathan Metaphor established by Orice.
I had to search for my tirade. First off, I didn't say I didn't want to make him hot. That's not the conundrum. I said he straight-up wasn't hot to me.
I TOLD Y'ALL. I told y'all that you would be attracted to cringe Mephistopheles-core Dracula. And wow, he's not even as attractive as I could force him to be. I drew him with short hair. Some people still draw de-aged Drac with long hair, but I just personally think he's a man who makes bad decisions. Jonathan is 2 parts horror, 1 part "oh... you cut your hair? meh."
I knew the whole time I was drawing that people would find the younger Dracula attractive (possibly hotter than the GILF), and that's just knowledge I would have to live with. It's not actually an issue tho, just means that more people are possibly coming back to it bc they want to jump that man's creaky bones... wait... do his bones even creak anymore?
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slashingdisneypasta · 10 months
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Did someone say free Disney villain gushing ticket? :D
- What do you think is under Maleficient's cowl? Like, do you think she has hair under there like the live action movie? Do you think she's bald? Do you think it's not a cowl at all and just a part of her head/horns? (I personally like the idea that it is a part of her head because... It just sounds like Mal to not have so many human features, including hair.)
(On that note; tooootally pure thought. Imagine Mal having a snake/reptilian-like tongue. This is purely for science, I swear.)
- I keep forgetting how much I love Alameda Slim! And just Home on the Range in general. But Slim is especially a fun villain! He kinda gives me 'Cowboy Ratigan' vibes with how extra he is and his musical prowess XD how do you think either of them would feel about this comparison?
- I think if you use specific things to burn, fire will change color. I'm not quite sure if I'm correct, but can you imagine Hades turning into different shades depending on what's around him? Also, also, if I'm correct, blue fire is actually hotter than red fire, which means when Hades is actually a higher temperature when completely calm! And somehow cools down when he's raging XD
- Silver and Scroop... Just... The alien husband's XD they're always on my mind. Nothing even specific, just them- wait WAIT! Imagine being in a throuple with them! You get to have your warm, affectionate, absolute lovely captain, and also your mean, dangerous (they're both equally dangerous, but Scroop is more aggressive about it), not so PDA but will still fight for you lover. The best of both worlds <3
- OK, you knew it was coming... Another Toon Patrol imagine XD imagine that you get to know them because they kept kidnapping you (not like a dark scenario, if that makes sense? Literally just them wanting to hang out, but they- especially Smartass probably- have no clue how to approach you normally, and they're all their own flavors of extra since they're villain toons, so they just 'pick you up' when they just want to play monopoly with you or something). And at this point, you just get used to it... But also tired of it. You're just like "Smarty, I get it, you guys are socially awkward, but I've used your shower and have eaten your food; I think we're past the burlap sack part of our relationship." Idk, this wouldn't leave my head and it made me chuckle so here XD
- Imagine all the side kicks start a support group in the Disney Villain House. Iago has anointed himself as the head of the group, next to Sir Hiss. Pain and Panic and Lefou are the ones who need the most help. Fidget is finally making some friends. Kaa and the hyenas are here for the food. And occasionally the weasels make an appearance since they are supposed to be Doom's henchmen. That's all I can think of at the moment XD
- OK we need Wheezy fluff/comedy, so here; imagine trying to help him with his clothes? Like, my guy here is wearing that ratty vest and that nicotine stained dress shirt everyday. He pulls it off, but for his own sake (and ours because *ahem* those Bill Moseley gifs), we gotta figure something out. It may not nearly be Goob level since he at least has some self-respect, but still. Maybe you two go clothing shopping, or you try to figure whatever concoction of detergent, bleach, and pure willpower and elbow grease will make his shirts white again. Or at least get the smell out. Your thoughts?
Ok this was more of a imagining then a gushing, but I hope you like these XD
OKAY OKAY OKAY you should know that when this came through I was making my bed- and Lotso got thrown in my effort to finish it so I could read this XD sorry lotso
Maleficent: I do think that's part of her head!! :D I agree, hair makes her a bit too human. If it was a cowl- I think she'd shave her head. She doesn't want to be seen as a beautiful fair Tinkerbell-type. Men cannot be trusted to not try and hunt her down in the woods for a glimpse, and thats just more trouble then its worth. Besides, being fair is kind of Hilda's thing XD And Gastons.
Imagine seeing her bald head for the first time; horns brown and rough, under the slick black cowl and telling her she's amazing, gently guiding her down into a kiss <3 She's very proud you're the way you are, and she found you.
She's not shy about thrusting her slimy, forked tongue carefully into your mouth and forcing you to moan for it.
(Um?? Yes to her having a reptilian tongue!! Oh my goodness! It's very in character XDD Haha)
Alameda Slim and Professor Ratigan: Ahhh, I can see that!! XDD Very eccentric, and sensitive XD I don't think either of them would be pleased at the comparison though! 😂😂😂 They're both just silent, giving eachother sideways glances, thinking... 'the rat?' / 'the fat guy?' .
'Cowboy Ratigan', though XDDD Thats so funny XDDD
Hades: Oh I have heard that too!!! I wish they would have used that in the movie, that would have just been so cool! Hades' bodily lore just gets more and more interesting XD
And- right??? I'm sure that's just a design decision (Blue is a calm colour, red passionate) but I do think they coulda made the opposite look pretty cool (Imagine he turns electric blue when furious) but the blue suits him ^^ Red woulda been a tip off XDD Haha. And besides, blue fits with his smooth talking, used car salesman vibe.
Silver and Scroop: ALIEN THROUPLE Y E S XD You get a gentleman who stands up for your honour from behind you, a hand on your shoulder, only subtly threatening people lives when they insult you or make you uncomfortable, and then immediately works to cheer you up again- and also your mean, asshole boyfriend who will get in between you and any threat and just boldly threaten their lives... descriptively (Who you have to calm down afterwards XD). Best of both worlds, haha.
Imagine some asshole at a bar getting mad when you don't react nice to his flirting, and before you even know it Scroop is hissing obscenities in that gravelly voice that make your cheeks hot at the guy. You're shocked, though you don't know why you are (Scroop is always like this), and you let Silver guide you carefully back from the two, guiding you to another seat. "We'll sit 'ere til he's done, lass. I'd step in, but... I think I'd like to keep this old hardware attached ta me." He winks. "Mr Scroop's got this under control. Lets getcha another drink, eh?"
Toon Patrol: Ahhhhh, yes perfect! XD Haha. Omg. Guys, you can- you can call them up and just invite them somewhere- *sigh*
I can totally see this XDDD
Imagine the bag gets ripped off of you and you're just deadpanned, looking at Wheezy who pulled it off of you. "... you must realise, that this has become ridiculous."
"I do... boss doesn't. And, 'sides... its amusing."
"Grrrrrrr- "
Sidekicks: I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH. I JUST LOVE IT XDDD Imagine Sir Hiss and Iago arguing over leadership and everyone else, even Smartass, is just like 'isn't this supposed to be for support??... we getta enough of this at home. XD like 'I have ssssssss-eniority, over you! Besides, more experience- ' 'well, I'm more popular than you bub so shut up and gimmie the gabble.'
Wheezy: I- I cant- I'm weak at the thought XDDD You get to choose his clothes?? Ahhhhhhh, that's absolutely a dream XD He'd be so relaxed, letting you hand him damn near anything and trying it on, staying still while you make adjustments, not making it uncomfortable at all, just looking hot, etc. Reminds me of this one scene in Gilmore Girls XD
Incorrect Quote:
Smartass, walking in on Y/N tightening Wheezy's belt: ... what in fucks name are the two of you doin'??
Y/N: Oh!- *Startled to see Smartass, hands flying away from their boyfriend* Its not what it looks like!
Wheezy: ... *Chill. Taking a drag from his cigerette*
Smartass: It looks like you're dressing 'im...
Y/N: Oh- well then. uh. It's exactly what it looks like! 😅😅😅😅😅😅😅
Smartass: well now i don't believe you-
Alternative excerpt though, with and Wheezy Y/N being an old married couple XD :
Wheezy: Stop tightening my belt, I don't wanna look like a kid goin to prom.
Y/N: You have a slim waist. You need the support!
Wheezy: *Rolling his eyes and groaning around his cig* Look if my pants fall down- just call it a bonus okay? Just let me go, woman.
Y/N: Wheezy, sweetheart, your flaccid penis is not the turn on you think it is.
Wheezy: God I could use a smoke right now.
Y/N: You're SMOKING ONE.
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hacked-by-jake · 2 years
Note
Months have passed and I haven't gotten over the fact that Jake looks so hot in episode 10 either. Jake at times has a dominating way, he manages to mix cordiality and seriousness, when he arrived in the conversation speaking to Thomas to stop and then immediately telling us to go in private with him...GOD, WHY THIS MAN IS SO HOT?
I can visualize Jake pissed off at Thomas pressing MC
I think that Jake was pissed off by Thomas is an absolute understatement. I think at that moment Jake absolutely hated Thomas. After all, we know how protective Jake is when it comes to MC.
Jake was trying to keep MC out of danger by any means all the time.
The thought that MC could go to Duskwood was unbearable for him.
And then suddenly Thomas tries to manipulate MC by saying "You could save Hannah and Richy’s life" and thus hits a really sore point and makes MC really want to go. He talks about MC all the time, and then there’s this 'One live for two' MC probably would have sacrificed themself.
And then Jake sees this and suddenly his fear is more real than ever because he knows that MC would really like to do it. And at the time, we even thought the MWAF was a murderer.
If it had really been so, and MC would have been exchanged for Hannah and Richy, then it would be quite possible that MC would not have survived (I mean now because we of course still knew nothing about the true MWAF)
So Jake would probably lost MC. And he probably never would have accepted that, and Thomas would have won a pretty strong new enemy. So yes, I think that Jake felt incredible anger at that moment.
Luckily for Jake, however, he usually never needs to say much so that everyone listens to him because he knows how much influence his appearance has on others. The mysterious hacker no one knows who is wanted by the government, you’d rather not have him as an enemy. (Unless your name is MC (then it could be a really interesting enemies to lovers)) ;)
And the same influence through his appearance makes Jake just even hotter. xD
Every time we see him play this side of him I would like to start crying with happiness.
The fact that he had to use only so few words in this moment does not make the situation better.
I mean, he uses 5 words in total.
"Thomas, enough" and "MC? A Word." I really wish he had used an exclamation mark after "enough" that would have made him sound even angrier. xD But it’s Jake, and he’s hot the way he is.
I don’t know exactly what intention Everbyte had with these messages from Jake, but no matter what their intention was, I love the wording they used for it.
Jake’s character and everything about him are just so perfect and his authority really "interesting". I am so glad that we will probably see him again in the new game and I hope that we get more such moments there.
Yes, as you can see, I am also not over the situation, I could probably write a whole book about it.😂😩
Thank you a lot for sending your ask, I really appreciate it! I hope you will have a beautiful day/evening/night.
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varikvamp · 1 year
Text
So... here we are, with more fanfic shorts. Again it is TaS and this time it's fluff ♡~ this one is Toji x MC, I'll be using more gender neutral terms here so no one is left out :3 please enjoy!
And I've realized a theme, I've said it before, I listen to music when I write and with the last two the perfect songs came on to set my mood... well, it happened again. It's the second song to come up and it's none other then My Zing from Hotel Transylvania... so yea... of course it was on repeat this entire time xD
◇◇◇
Looking around the Guild Hideout you noticed someone missing. It made you frown a bit. Toji still wasn't coming in much. He did seem a bit strange lately. You had noted his actions as of late, it was almost like he was avoiding you. Had you said something? Was he upset? A lot had happened after all, you wouldn't be surprised if he was. That's when your lips curled into a small grin. Well, you'll just have to go and cheer him up! He is one of the very special people in your life after all. So after going over everything that you needed to, you gathered your things and headed to your room for a moment.
While you were there you grabbed a few things, mainly two bento that you had made that morning. You made them just for occasions like this, when you would be out for a while with your friends. Getting on your phone you brought up the app, and used it to see where Toji was. He was a guild member so it was easy to find him. After you did you nodded and left your dorm and the grounds grinning the entire time. Surely he'd be happy to see you.
~~~~
Toji was kind of avoiding the guild, as for why? He couldn't be certain. All he knew was that whenever he saw you or was around you he felt his chest tighen and he got nervous. He enjoyed your company but at the same time he didn't understand why his body reacted like that. He didn't think he could face you properly until he figured it out. And he wouldn't dare ask anyone either, he knew all they would do was tease him. He was sitting by himself, katanas laid beside him. After finishing some training he liked to sit and relax in the shade for a few.
As he did he heard footsteps walking up to him, his hand instinctively went to his katanas but halted when he saw it was you. He stared, his eyes glued to you. He watched as you sat down and smiled at him. That feeling started to bubble up, his chest tightening. It wasn't bad but it was strange. But, what were you doing here? He didn't understand why you had come to see him and didn't even send a text first.
"Did you just get done training?" You asked bringing him back to the moment. You were sitting by him now, holding out a... a bento? You brought him a bento? Finally finding his voice he looked away and took it, a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks. "Yeah, what are you doing over here anyway? It's dangerous for you to be out by yourself. Your prone to causing trouble." You feigned a hurt gasp and looked at him. But then you laughed a little.
"Awe, you do care." You teased and playfully hit his shoulder Making him look at you with a slight glare. "Haha~ well, I'm here because I was worried. So I decided to come see if you were OK and spend the day with you! We haven't had much time to talk or hang out properly." You promptly handed him a popsicle that you bought since the day was warm. You were right to, when you saw Toji you noticed he was sweating and his cheeks were flushed. That gave you the indication he had finished training for the day. He eyed the popsicle before taking it.
Toji didn't have many words. His heart was pending and all he could do was.. well, he didn't know. He eyed the bento his hand holding it like it was going to break if he moved to suddenly. His chest from being tight to feeling warm. He was already worked up from his exercises so the flush of new heat only made his body feel hotter then it already was. But wait.. you were.. worried about him? Hang out? Spend the rest of the day with you?
"Don't you have guild stuff to take care of."
"Yeah, that includes you."
Toji got flustered then, ripping open the popsicle wrapper and almost losing the cold blue delight. You held back a laugh as he looked at you. Toji on the other hand couldn't believe what he heard. And that smug look on your face only added to his... frustration? Embarrassment? He couldn't tell but he reacted in the only way he knew how.
"Your the one who needs to be taken care of, you cause trouble no matter where you go! You can't be left along for five minutes without something happening..." He stopped himself and looked away, frowning In a cute flustered way.
"Sooo~ are you saying you want to take care of me?" You teased him slyly, that mischievous grin playing on your lips as your eyes narrowed while looking at him. Tojis already red face now burned more, his ears turning red and it spread down his neck. "W... well who else is going to do it! Everyone else seems just fine with letting you do whatever you want." He opened the bento, being surprisingly gentle for someone who was so worked up. It was something you took note of immediately. With a swift motion you took the box from him and picked up a some of the rice there. Then you held it up to him looking at him through lidded eyes as you smiled.
"Well then you better stop leaving me alone so much~ Now open up, your tired right? Must be, your face is very red plus your hot and sweaty, you worked hard." Now you were intentionally trying to frustrate him. But, to your surprise Toji opened his mouth and took a bite. He was still obviously flustered. He then looked at you only to look away. "What? Your the one who offered..." But then his gaze was back on you as he looked like he was trying to find the right words.
"And... fine! But don't expect me to just let you do anything you want -" He was cut off by you setting down the bento and pulling him into a hug. "I'd be lucky to have you by me~" Toji swore his heart stopped for a moment. His hands shook as he hugged you back. His face burrowed into your neck. "Damn you.." He whispered and you laughed a little. "Don't be like that~" you said and pulled back.
"I really do want you with me." You looked into his eyes and it took everything he had not to look away. He knew for a while now that he liked you, maybe that was why he tried avoiding you. But it was obvious that wasn't going to work. Besides, he actually enjoyed your company, he liked being around you. He wanted to be near you, to protect you.
And most importantly, he wanted to be the one to care for you.
♡♡♡♡
Sorry it's a bit short ;^-^ but I hope you like it either way!
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spiderling-space · 3 years
Note
Hi could you please do malleus seeing a fem mc in a swimsuit in the beach when everyone is around? Thank you
You can join the discord server :D xD
Based on this prompt 
Also imagine Malleus swimming 
I added nsfw part after sfw part since I couldn’t help myself :D:D:>
🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉
Malleus Draconia
Valley of Thorns has no beaches and Malleus did not go out of his homeland other than going to NRC. He is curious about the beach that everyone is talking about. Lilia says it is fun but he will need special swimsuit and sunscreen. How will he screen sun? Such weird words... At least he isn’t alone at this. Silver is confused as much as he is while Sebek seems to know what it is about.
The moment the whole academy arrives to the beach, he is faced with naked people! How could they roam around their underwear? Some not even covering their private places enough! How obscene of them! When they reach the beach to settle, Lilia tells him to undress in the middle beach, in front of everyone. When he wore the swimsuit, he thought it would be like underwear that no one sees but now he learned he is supposed to only wear that. After seeing others do the same, he relaxed and undressed.
He doesn’t understand how everyone considers normal for to see others almost normal.
Lilia is applying him sunscreen when he notices (Y/N) in two small pieces. Her whole body is out in the open for all to see. He is shocked to see her wearing this little clothing, that he doesn’t even realize he isn’t staring until Lilia pokes him while laughing. Sebek screams if he should cover his vision of (Y/N) so he would not look that human while Silver is sleeping under the sun. Thanks to Sebek’s voice, (Y/N) hears him and turns, waving at him. 
Malleus feels hotter and cannot take his eyes off of her. He knows it is rude to stare but he can’t help it. His eyes wonder around her body before focusing on her eyes as she speaks to him.
Since he has seen (Y/N) in indecent outfit, he proposes her right there and then in order to protect her honour. It doesn’t matter if he saw others the same way, he doesn’t have those feelings for them so they don’t count. Sebek faints from seeing Malleus’ proposal, Silver wakes up momentarily to ask what happened while Lilia is cheering how romantic it is. (Y/N) is just speechless.
Regardless, since Malleus proposed, he gets protective over her. He is not someone who would meddle with what his partner would wear. His grandmother didn’t raise him like that. He will look at anyone who stares at her more than necessary and Zeus help whoever catcalls her. 
Malleus knows he is fairly good looking and his body shape is considered attractive by some. He hopes this will intimidate anyone who tries to court (Y/N) at beach so he wouldn’t need to use his name  or a speck of his magic to intimidate them.
NSFW under cut
Malleus sees (Y/N), the person who he is attracted to, wearing a little to nothing. He discovers a new feeling. When he asked Lilia about it, he called it arousal. So this is the arousal he has read and heard about. He both likes it and wants to get rid of it. He also wonders if (Y/N) feels arousal when she sees him in swimsuit. He hopes she does.
Malleus asks to speak with (Y/N) privately so he could solve this arousal issue if she wills it as well. When (Y/N) says okay, he apparites them away from the crowd but they are still at beach.
Malleus is blunt and he does not realize how his words might sound to him. He flatly says seeing her in bikini aroused him. (Y/N) says she can see it and points his swimsuit. 
Oh, he knew his penis would erect but he didn’t consider it as his focus was entirely on her. He asks if she wants to help him relieve it bluntly. 
(Y/N) has been horny for Malleus from the start and seeing him in swimsuit made her hornier so she eagerly accepts his offer. She kisses him as her hand moves from his abs to his crotch under his swimsuit.
Malleus stops her before she does something else. “We cannot have sex before marriage.” - “Then what are we supposed to do, Horny boy?” - “Lilia told me there are other things we can do that is not considered real sex. You can take my penis in your mouth and my tongue can delve in your vagina.” (Y/N) seemed to correct him and say it is considered sex too but she is too horny.
(Y/N) gets on her knees, lowers his swimsuit, revealing his erection. She looks in his eyes before wrapping her mouth around his penis.
After Malleus cums deep in her throat, he looks at her state, thinking that it is the sight he wants to see every day. He could watch her all day but he has a job to do, he must do as he promised. He is not going to let (Y/N) lay on the sand because it’s coarse, rough and it gets everywhere. He is a fae so he is strong enough to carry her. 
Malleus gets on his knees, facing her. He tells her to sit on his shoulders, her thighs on each side of his head and her cunt right in front of his mouth. He stands up, holding (Y/N) from thighs as she is holding him from his horns. It is his first time doing it but he gets the git. His tongue explores her vagina.
Malleus could have created a bed on make (Y/N) float on air as he ate her out but he wanted to try this position.
In the end, Malleus is no Batman. He eats pussy
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doppopoppo · 3 years
Text
|| Uramichi Daily Headcanon ||
|| Warnings: None ||
|| Uramichi • F!Reader ||
Spooktober, it’s exciting!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💙
It was October, and you know what that means? Spooktober! Uramichi did not particularly love nor hate the holiday. He simply paid no mind to it. He has nightmares enough, do not need any in reality. His job was already one.
He could hear some of his coworkers talking as he made his way to exit the MHK building. He could hear Kumatani trying to calm Iketeru down by signaling there was a ghost UFO up there.
Not wanting to take part in the conversation, Uramichi continued on his way. That is, until one of them called out to him.
“DON’T GO HOME ALONE! THE WITCHES WILL TURN YOU INTO A FROG OR THE VAMPIRES WILL BITE YOU!” Iketeru’s distressed called out to him.
Uramichi let out a gasp, “Don’t tell me, Iketeru. You still belie-“ a hand quickly covered his mouth.
Kumatani whispered in his ear “Shh!” and walked back towards the group.
“Let’s all go home together!” Usahara suggested. This earned him a smack across his head from the gymnasts.
“I can’t believe we have to work on Halloween. And dress up in tacky costumes!” Usahara complained. “At least you’re not the ugly Witch of the West!” Utano cried out.
A bubble with a ghost onigiri loomed over Iketeru’s head, he checked out of the conversation.
After countless ghost stories and having to calm Iketeru down, Uramichi finally reached home.
“BOO!”
Uramichi sighed but played along, “You got me there.” his monotone voice echoed through the apartment.
He went to kiss his girlfriend and headed to freshen up.
Y/N giggled, “Welcome home to you too, Mr. Grumpy Pants. How was work?”
“The same.” Uramichi replied. “After my shower we can watch the movie you’ve been wanting to see.”
“Cool!” Y/N went to prepare some snacks.
It was a weekend, so she knew they could afford to indulge in staying up in the wee late hours. Y/N also prepared a light dinner for her boyfriend, packed with protein. Just how he likes it! She received a text and the contents made Y/N burst out laughing. She tried to contain herself so Uramichi does not hear her. She’ll have to save the picture as blackmail material.
It was almost 10:30 PM when Uramichi finally finished up his shower and made his way to his darling on the couch. He’d rather sleep, as it’s well deserved, but he knows he hasn’t been spending quality time with her in the past few weeks. So, he wants to make it up to her by watching a spooktober film.
Uramichi wrapped his right arm around Y/N and brought her closer. He could feel her nuzzle against his toned chest. She felt super soft. ‘Cute’ he thought. Smirking, he placed a kiss on the crown of her head.
“What's so good about,” Uramichi picked up the DVD case, “The Adam’s Family anyways? We’ve seen it many times.”
“What do you mean? It’s exciting everytime I watch it! Come on, you laugh too! You even like Gomez Adams!” Y/N playfully smacked his arm. Even giving his biceps a few playful squeezes.
“You’re drooling.”
“I can’t help it because my boyfriend’s hotter than the sun.” Then whispered “or would you rather have Iketeru in your arms, holding your hands and bicep?”
Shock was written all across Uramichi’s face. Y/N let out a huge cackle and pressed play. Uramichi quietly did some bicep curls with the dumbbells that are always by the TV stand. Usahara was asking for it again, and Uramichi graciously would give it to him.
“Thank you for the food, darling.” Uramichi picked a piece of candy. Only to see the eye was staring right back at him. He quickly put the chocolate down, Halloween was not for him.
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Author’s Note:
Hey y’all’! I’m one of those people who have great ideas, but no clue how to put it into words lol. So I hope headcanons help me get my ideas across 🥳 Also, this was the most we’ve seen him use his facial expressions XD
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killmebythebeach · 3 years
Text
A bunch of head cannons (Maybe too much). Also in talking about the characters.
I think Dream is that one design where his skin is just the static tv screen. He just constantly emits that fuzzy noise, Sam crafted him the smile mask that he can see through so he doesn't scare people.
George is just kind of the server itself. He's the same species as Hannah, but a mushroom and more powerful. If he stays awake too long, the server just kind of freezes. This is also a reason XD keeps him sleeping, it's his way of talking to George and he thinks the server is like his soap opera of mortals.
Callahan is sort of like the person who makes sure George doesn't get killed or dies while asleep, making sure he's surrounded by mushrooms and such. Deer hybrid <3
Alyssa joined the server because she knew all her friends were idiots and didn't want them to die immediately. But once the elections rolled around, she felt the pressure of choosing sides and ran away to the desert, only keeping contact with Ponk. She actually lives just a couple miles from Foolish's summer home. Her communicator actually died after a couple months and she had no way of charging it, so she lost contact with everyone.
Sapnap is a magma cube hybrid and can jump higher than most, his natural temperature runs hotter, and is fire proof. Bad found him in the nether when he was maybe 10-15 years old.
Sam was actually a normal creeper, but gained player like sentience from being struck by lightning. Instead of becoming charged, he gained intelligence and met the others on the server. Callahan taught him some Redstone, but from there he figured out a lot on his own. He's also a creeper centaur.
Ponk is actually a descendant of a fairy, a lemon tree. Their mask was also a gift from Sam because after the second or third time their tree was burnt, their immune system was weakened a considerable amount. Alyssa also wore her mask for them.
Bad is a size shifting demon from the nether, more specifically soul sand desert. He uses soul fire to gain strength, so because the egg died when near it, he was just a little weaker than normal. Because he's a demon he needs a tie to the overworld to stay there, he tied his soul and lives to Skeppy.
Tommy was grown in a lab to be a hero, project: THESEUS. The lab gave him small enhancements, like slightly stronger and just a bit more resilient, to make the Above Average Boy (TM). He then ran away to meet Wilbur. When Dream asked Wilbur if he wanted to come to the server, he asked if Tommy could go first to see what it was like. He also actually really likes gardening and making up funny songs to Wilbur playing guitar. He also made funny lyrics for his discs, but he's still a bit scared to take them out of his ender chest. Other than bringing attachment, Dream also exiled Tommy to see what his lab enhancements could do.
Tubbo is an adaptive hybrid! His hair was blond, shifting to brown when Wilbur found him, getting blue eyes from Tommy, growing small horns under Schlatt, parts of his skin being static when Dream was "helping" him with his presidency, and parts of his scars tinging black and green from Ranboo and Micheal. Tubbo also helped Wilbur write part of the anthem. He likes living in the snow because the Manberg flag had magma blocks on it, casting a heatwave over the country, and after L'Manburg blew up it got really hot from the exposed stone in direct sun.
Fundy can actually hold his breath for a very long time and swim very well because of Sally teaching him and his salmon genes. The yellow things on his hat are actually shells, and the stripes on his jacket are trans colors. Also with his dreams, he saw Eret was going to betray them but didn't think it was real, or didn't want to. He also saw Wilbur blow up L'Manburg but chose not to believe it, thinking his father could still be saved. He actually saw pretty much everything, but didn't quite understand what they were until after doomsday.
The necklace Punz wears is one of those picture lockets, but he lost the picture and can't remember what it was. The first time Dream paid him was when Dream asked for help and Punz made an off hand joke about getting money, and then Dream thought he was being serious. Him, Dream, and Sapnap were like brothers, and Punz got sadder every time he saw Dream pushing people away and diving deeper into darkness.
Purpled is an aliensent to see if the planet was colonizable, but then crashed and was stranded, all his communications down and his ship barely able to hover fifty feet off the ground. When Quackity blew it up, he essentially got rid of his chance of ever going home. Purpled's species can shapeshift, so he turned himself into the first person he saw, Punz. Eventually before trying to communicate with the native life forms, he edited his form a little so they weren't identical, keeping purple eyes and antennae, changing the colors slightly, and changing the voice up. When he moves away from the main SMP, Ponk makes sure to check up on him and that he has a way to check his communicator.
Wilbur came a month after sending Tommy. His father being a patron of life and his mother the goddess of death, he met in the middle being born as a human. The only reason Ghostbur was as active and present as he was was because he was so connected to both life and death. Since his corpse was decaying for as long as it was, Wilbur is now super weak, his flesh is thin and his eyes are rotted and gone. Much like Ghostbur, Wilbur in limbo saw what people said about him, and Ghostbur could hear that from the back of his head. Now Wilbur can hear what people say about Ghostbur and he hates it, not wanting to be connected to what he thinks like a shell of himself.
Schlatt is a ram (duh) and actually does the fainting goat thing. So when he died of a heart attack, no one knew at first if he was actually dead or not. His alcoholism stems from the revive book, as the possibility of tampering with death made him existential and scared, so to cope he drank. There are also a ton of other stuff other than revival in the book, but it's in galactic.
Skeppy was just a normal human, but after making the pact with Bad, Bad put a spell on him. Parts of him turned into diamond, protecting both his and Bad's lives. He however, is unaware of this. With the egg, he would just sit on it, the diamonds chipping away to make room for the vines.
Eret was cursed by the Wither Cult, giving them white eyes and a slowly deteriorating memory. Not sure what to do, Foolish dropped them off at the SMP. Sometimes they would dream about old memories from before the curse, but it was just glimpses so he could never tell what they meant. Once they were king, they made the Herobrine shrine subconsciously, not really sure what it was after. They also had a strange affinity of beacons and resurrection, some of their memories resurfacing when they tried to help Phil and Ghostbur revive Wilbur after doomsday. The reason people are more scared of their eyes than any other wierd eyes was because he generally looks like a normal human, but the wither along with their Herobrine origins creates an uncanny valley that people are shocked by.
Jack had red and blue irises before crawling out of hell, but after coming back the whites of his eyes also turned red and blue. He always wears 3d glasses so no one noticed, but he just thought no one cared enough to mention it. He also has a bunch of scars and burn marks that no one but him can see, therefore no one asks about them or thinks something is wrong, cementing the idea that no one cares about him.
Niki is a blaze hybrid (stole this from @/420technoblazeit) whose fire hair color changes based on strong emotion, something she bond with Tubbo for as a fellow shifter. A soft yellow in L'Manburg, brighter orange in Manburg, hot pink on Doomsday, a soul fire blue with the syndicate (which Techno hates), and a dead grey when she found out Wilbur was alive. She was also old child hood friends with Ranboo and Eret, leaving Ranboo for the SMP. Ranboo, unfortunatly, doesn't remember much more than her name. She also knows galactic from Ranboo, so she talks about her troubles to Shy the Enderman. She doesn't really know how to talk to Puffy anymore after Doomsday or finding out how she wants to protect Tommy.
Quackity can perfectly replicate someone's voice and, with a lot of effort, can completely change his form to another player. He also has very small yellow wings, too small to fly, so he almost always hides them. He used to constantly change his voice for jokes with Karl, Sapnap, and George, but he doesn't like doing it now in Las Nevadas, as he sees it as unprofessional. However, sometimes he uses when he visits Dream, changing his voice to people like George and Sapnap to make torture more effective.
In the In Between and Other Side, Karl actually looks like his old skin, or his natural state (the big purple one that inspired his sweater). But most of the time in the normal world, he looks human. With effort he can bring out the interdemential being thing, something only Quackity and Sapnap know about. The more he time travels, the easier it becomes to change, and he's even started defaulting to the other form.
HBomb is actually just a normal news reporter, sent to interview and record what's going on in the server, his first big story being the election. Upon Doomsday, the stress of seeing everyone alone, fighting, and disconnected, he ran away from the world, essentially becoming a cat lady. His undercover reporter persona is actually the cat maid. He eventually came back to the server to see how he could help after Doomsday, befriending Niki again and living with her in the underground city.
Techno is a piglin, so he's scared of soul fire. He forgot to tell Phil before he decorated the syndicate room, so he just suffers in silence. He also does better when around a lot of gold, like in the nether, and he feels drained and slightly weaker without it. Instead of just putting gold around the area (it would ruin his property value), he just hibernates. He has an emerald earing, like all of the syndicate, but his is a locket that unfolds into pictures of the syndicate.
Ant always wears a red hoodie, now ruined by the egg, that used to be Red's. On Red's death anniversary, him, Bad, Skeppy, and Sam would make cake and put flowers on his grave. He missed the last one because it was during the egg, but for a brief moment after Puffy killed him he saw Red. Red then promptly and bluntly told him to stop being a pussy (haha, cat) and that he shouldn't do all this just to get him back, one of Ant's motivators to make amends with the people he hurt while with the egg. Ant is also a shapeshifter, but can only turn into a cat.
Phil actually used to work under Foolish as a patron of life but then he had a son with the goddess of death, so his title was removed so he could be with her and he became an Angel of Death. Kristin noticed how sad he was after being released, so she gifted him wings. They were however, destroyed on November 16th. His chat also serves as messenger pigeons, which were used to send letters to Wilbur.
Connor is actually just a hedgehog who somehow befriended Schlatt. Even before the haunted mansion, Karl vented to him about his time travel troubles, not knowing he was a sentient player. As a hedgehog, no one really cares where he goes, so he goes outside the server limits to meet his friends from the haunted mansion.
Puffy is a distant relative of Schlatt, but instead of politics she went into piracy. With her mom, she went travelling the seas. One say, a storm came and wiped out her ship, her crew, her mom, everything but her. The reason she survived was because Foolish saw her and saved her. Unfortunately, Puffy hit hee head in the crash and doesn't remember anything.
Vikkstar is the equivalent of a big time celebrity, so of course his endorsement of POG2020 was a big deal.
Lazarbeam is literally just a ginger bread cookie.
Ranboo has actually met a lot of the smp before actually joining. He's met Niki, Fundy, Eret, Punz, and Dream at least. He also sees the inverted colors Enderman see. His suit was actually a gift from Eret before they forgot how to tailor. He got the crown from Techno after joining the syndicate, claiming he didn't want any syndicate members to look like trash.
Foolish came to the server most recently to check up on Eret, but he couldn't bring himself to leave again. When Puffy adopts him, he can't say no because he remembers saving her. His initial goal was to kill an ender dragon to claim the XD title and become a full god like DreamXD, but after realising someone already killed it he went into his totem if death phase. Upon meeting Eret, he got over it and they went on some silly adventures, Foolish now taking a more peaceful route.
Hannah is essentially a weaker George, as her power is tied to the plants themselves and not the entire server. She however has a lot more physical power because rose dryads like to fight because they have thorns. Since roses can be taken out a lot easier, she is essentially a glass canon. Also when around any plant, she can make it grow faster than normal.
Any guest on the server? Corpse, Pokimane, Lil Nas? They were all Slimecicle. That's how he knows where everyone is from, even outside of Las Nevadas. No one else knows this. He's also ancient, if he met Phil they would probably recognise eachother. There was an actual Charlie Slimecicle who was not a slime, but after being launched into orbit this Slimecicle decided to impersonate him.
Michael Mcchill is a sort of bounty hunter. He came to the server after hearing of all the crime, assuming there'd be a lot of bounties to collect. However, he soon learned that no one really cares if you commit a crime. He then took to reading news articles made by HBomb to see if there were any past open bounties. But after reading for a while about the server's wronguns, mostly Dream, he began to sympathise with them. And he's also a speedrunner, so maybe he could help with some bounties across other servers!
This was a very long post and i apologize, but it was so fun to finally write all these thoughts down! I hope you liked them! I can't even fit all the tags I want.
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king-bito · 3 years
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Vanta Black is a butt
I’m sorry, this is my first Drabble or whatever this is, I didn’t proof read it, I don’t really know what my intention was here.. I’m not a writer, I do digital art, but there’s so little Shihai smut out there I thought I would add my bad writing to the small pile xD
I’m SO SORRY.
Pairing: Shihai Kuroiro x Reader
Characters are in their mid twenties.
Rating: Explicit
MINORS DO NOT INTERRACT
Warnings: Dub-Con, Predator/Prey Dynamic, Quirk use, Smut
It’s been a long day, it’s 10pm and you just exited the cinema alone, your friend, who decided to make the whole movie about kissing, making out, and blowing their newly acquired boyfriend, ditched you early in favour of going home with him.
Oh how wonderful it felt to be a third wheel. You’d resigned and accepted your fate, opting to take your time, grabbing a coffee at concession before leaving.
It’s Friday night and there’s still a buzz of nightlife, just barely starting to pick up. Luckily you lived nearby so you wouldn’t have to suffer atrocious cab fares, and the awkward conversations that you always felt cornered into.
You take a deep breath, finishing off the last of your beverage and tossing it into the trash and beginning your walk home, pulling together your jacket to ward off the cold bite of the night air.
————
It’s only 2 blocks from your apartment when you hear what sounds like distressed meows coming from a dark alley. Was it a cat? Fuck, it’s too cold on a night like this to just ignore it. You aren’t the bravest person, and dimly lit alleyways threw up about a dozen warning signals, but these small, infantile kitten meows had you falter and pause.
Biting your lip, you decide to suck it up. You can’t abandon a little kitty out here..
Oh how wonderfully gullible you are.
As you near a filthy dumpster with so many tags on it you can’t even make out a single letter, a cold breeze makes you shiver, it travels up your spine making you feel unsettled. For some reason the meows stopped when you began to enter the alley, and as you pull your arms around yourself for comfort to try and quell the fear, you peer around some stray boxes and trash bags, hoping to locate the abandoned animal.
You let out a gasp as something moves, you suppress a scream and tumble back against the brick wall, panting, heart beating rapidly.
There is nothing.
You swallow, you must have imagined it right?
Suddenly you feel something warm grab your wrists from behind, instinctively you try to pull forward but whatever is holding you is like a vice. Looking down you see pitch black hands wrapped firmly around your dainty wrists and then a low, whispering voice hits your ear.
“Hello little mousy~” Out from the dark brick behind you, a mans face with charcoal pigmented skin is pushing out from the darkness, his deep, dangerous tone terrifying and a little too provocative. Your first reaction is to bolt, and as you yank yourself away (purely at the mercy of this strange man in a wall letting your wrists go), you fall to the ground, turning to back yourself up against the opposite wall, resting on your now scraped palms. “W-what the hell?!” You stammer, taking in the sight before you.
Oh how cute.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, hoping to draw the attention of someone, anyone, nearby.
...
A deep chuckle cuts through the cold silence between you, and you watch as the head moves forward, more of his body emerging from the wall, and now, you get the chance to fully drink in his features. He’s handsome, well, what little you can make out in the low light against impossibly dark skin. His eyes are hooded and seductive, they study you with each breath you take. His lips are lightly pursed into a small smirk, they look perfect on his sharp jawline. His face is framed by a mop of thick silver hair that flicks out in an unruly manner over his cheeks and the back of his neck. The man is clad in a black coat, grey denim jeans, and a low cut v-neck tee, where you can make out his defined collarbones disappearing beneath the lapels of his long coat.
“Aww.. did I scare the poor little thing?” The man coos out gently, and the twisted smile he wears tells you very clearly this was all just fun cruelty to him.
“O-Of course you did! Who the fuck does tha-“
“Shihai” he interrupts you.
“What?”
“My name is Shihai Kuroiro, but you may call me Kuro.”
“I don’t give a damn what your name is.” You blurt out, getting yourself back to your feet and pressing yourself against the cold brick as if it would get you any further away from this..thing.
“You should. You will. Pretty thing like you couldn’t help but come to the pitiful little meows of a kitten, you didn’t even think, did you?”
“I-I…”
“I’m not even very good at making those sounds.. and yet you wandered all the way down an unlit alley, where oh, I don’t know…” Shihai steps forward and places his palms either side of your shoulders. He’s taller than you, lean, but sturdy in build, and his every languid movement was filled with its own strength and purpose. “...anyone could take advantage of you."
"I saw you in the cinema," He continued."you and your so called friend, she certainly had a good time, didn’t she?” He muses, leaning down so his wild grey-ish locks tickle your temple, his breath fanning over your neck as he spoke.
You can’t help but go red at the closeness, there was no doubt he was hot, he was very much your type and when was the last time you had a good fuck? Too long, that was for sure. But this guy was being a real creep! Not to mention scaring you half to death like some sort of twisted predator…
“Such a shame they didn’t invite you along with them.. then again, if they had, I wouldn’t have been able to get you alone like this… so cute, so flushed.. and my.. so easy.” He growls darkly, carding his fingers through your hair, and slowly curling his hand into a fist to grab a handful and yank gently. “Have some fun with me…” You knew this wasn’t an offer, but an inevitable demand, and against your quickly disappearing better judgement, you nodded meekly. Fuck it.
———————
The next few minutes are a blur, as you find yourself naked beneath Shihai, panting and mewling as his mouth works your nipple, sucking and nibbling while his hand massages and kneads your other breast. “K-...Kuro…” You gasp, arching your back and grabbing a fistful of his hair. You throw your head back and pant to the pulsing in your core, deft fingers of Shihai’s free hand thrusting in and out of you while curling them expertly.
The man is ravenous as he attacks that spongey spot inside you, his mouth hotly working up your neck and leaving an all manner of marks in his wake. You let out a guttural moan, writhing underneath his frame, pressing your chest to his and rocking your hips against his fingers, chasing your orgasm like a woman starved.
So Shameless
You weren’t quite sure how he got you to this room so quickly from the city street, no doubt it had to be some weird quirk that came with his abnormal allearance but you were hardly complaining once he stripped you, and himself down and practically threw you onto the bed to jump you.
“So beautiful.. so good for me, little mouse…” he coos, growling shortly after as he notices your body giving him telltale signs of your impending release. “Kuro.. please.. I-I’m..” You whine loudly as he pulls his fingers out of you abruptly, ceasing his administrations in full and repositioning himself above you. “Uh-uh-uh..~” Shihai keens, tutting before capturing your mouth in a lust filled kiss and pressing his tongue to your lips, demanding access. Your pitiful whine of protest offers him the perfect opening as he slides his tongue into your mouth and dominates you entirely, a free hand pushing your hips down to stop your pitiful bucking. “Mmmphhh~” You moan into his mouth, running your hands up and down his chest and ribs, feeling the muscles move and tense and admiring each contraction as he moves to line himself up.
“You only get to cum on my dick, understand~?” His voice is smooth like butter when he breaks the kiss, bringing his hand up to lick your ample juices from his fingers in a lewd display. He nearly moans when he tastes you, eyes fluttering closed as he savours your taste, slowly and teasingly sucking every digit clean. “Oh.. so delicious, little one. I’ll be sure to clean you up properly when we’re done…” He grins, sliding his tongue out of his mouth provocatively, causing you to whimper.
It’s only when you feel his hips move do you realise he had slowly been lining himself up with your dripping entrance, rolling them to push the tip of his leaking cock into your stretched hole, the movement drawing a long, loud moan from you. Fuck, you didn’t even get a good look at it in the heat of things, but fuck if it didn’t feel massive as it slowly stretches you out around the sheer girth.
Shihai hums contently, clearly holding back his sounds in favour of composure and control as he slowly, smoothly, sheaths himself into your heat. The stretch hurts, and is taking a little too long to grow accustomed to as you look up at the stunningly biz are creature above you. You raise a hand to his cheek, admiring his smooth warm skin and slight changes in shade as he grows hotter and hotter from the workout, and you offer the first gentle touch of the night to him, as re-assurance he can move, yes, but also an attempt to connect, and as his eyes dart to you’s, you swear you could see his cheeks reddening a little.
Shihai shakes his head and lowers himself down to bite and nibble at your neck, slowly beginning to rock his hips back and forth. “So.. so tight, you really are a sweet little thing aren’t you” he manages between thrusts that grow in intensity. “Fuck, you’re practically sucking me in, beautiful.” he grunts, a shudder racking his spine as you continue to touch him tenderly.
“A-ahmmm… Kuro!” You groan, breaths becoming an uneven pant, you lean back to give him better access to your neck and guide his hand up to your breast again as you start to move your hips in time with his, lifting your knees to let him hit deeper and deeper inside of you. “I wanna… mmmmphhhh! Shit.. I need to…” you feel the tightness building in your stomach.
The pace quickens and the new angle has him hitting that perfect spot inside of you. He’s bracing himself on one hand, and with his other, he’s squeezing and gently teasing your pebbled nipple beneath his fingertips.
“Hahn… gonna cum? Go on… you can do it. Cum all over my cock.”
You throw your head back again and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you with each thrust until your walls clench and contract around his dick, making it twitch and pulse as you both reach your high, coming undone at once.
—————————-
Kuroiro takes surprisingly good care of you after multiple rounds of intense orgasms, he cleans you up with a warm damp cloth, feeds you, and gives you water before you damn near pass out in his bed. As he settles in beside you, scooting up to try and make you roll over so he can spoon you, you reach up to cup his cheek in your hand, your sleepy expression sweet and lazy. “...You’re still a creep..” You murmur gently, causing him to look at you with a little shock. He opens his mouth to retaliate, but you cut him off before he can get a stupid cocky remark in. “...but this was amazing. Do you think next time we could start…. with an actual date?”
His mouth opens again, this time he’s speechless. “Wait.. r-really? You’d.. you’d like to…?”
“Shhhh…” you nod, smiling gently as you roll over and shuffle back into him.
What you’re too tired to notice, is the heat coming from his cheeks, ears, and neck. Shit, he thought if he could just remain in control he wouldn’t become a stammering blushing mess. You weren’t supposed to like him! Nor ask him out!
But you had to be a cute little sweetheart and flip the tables on his plan.
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awakeshedreams · 3 years
Text
sugar and spice ( 2 )
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pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader
setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au
summary :
a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school’s resident bad boy…. Jeon Jungkook.
genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension
rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content
warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don’t like don’t read XD
wordcount : 3k
a/n: honestly overwhelming response for the first part. thank you so much 💜💜💜😳
here's the second.
somehow, this took up a new genre for itself while editing and became sort of a bit enemies to friends to partners in sin.
that is to say, I have a template for this but this could go any ( dirty ) way.
let me know if you like this and are curious to know how things play out.
also, spot the cameo. it's so dumb but still. I couldn't think of anything else.
enjoy.
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Paranoia was an old friend of yours.
Very real, very scary and not very nice to you, your peace of mind or your tested soul.
In your head, you already played out a million different ways the image you’d spent years building could come falling apart.
All because of him. Jeon Jungkook.
Though much to your surprise and fortune- he didn’t tell anyone.
You spent the entire weekend fretting over nothing.
It was almost like none of it ever happened.
Like your parents weren't about to tie the knot soon. Like you weren’t about to become step siblings.
Like he didn't walk in on his said step sister to be masturbating in front of a camera.
In the aftermath of that inexplicably humiliating incident, you had to make up some dumb excuse to satiate your viewers for ending the stream so abruptly.
It was your cat they heard speaking, you told them.
Cats don’t speak of course, certainly not in a deep baritone. But they were effectively distracted by the string of full nudes you posted soon after that.
Those few accusatory comments saying that you did have a boyfriend after all were buried by those coming from very horny people who were over the moon about the little apology gift.
That was out of the way, but you had a more pressing matter at hand.
That night, Jungkook had walked out after saying what he had to say without another word, leaving you feeling stunned and oddly cold.
It was like all the heat in your body just ceased to exist the moment he closed the door behind him and left you there all on your own. You didn’t even get to finish but that was beside the point.
The point was, you thought that meant like with many other things, and as people should since this was a free world, he didn’t give a shit what you did with your free time or your body.
But as the days progressed, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were gravely mistaken.
Because contrary to that, he seemed to be up to something.
These days, he came around very often. Completely unprovoked and on his own accord.
It didn’t help that your mom loved having him around and feeding him.
Sometimes he was there for lunch after school. Other times he was there to fucking read the books in the study.
It was all ridiculous and quite honestly it was starting to get on your fraying nerves.
He didn’t even live there! You grumbled in pure frustration internally every time your mom asked you to add an extra plate for him on the dining table. This was your place!
Intentional or not he seemed to just love spending his time at your house for some reason.
But that just wouldn’t do.
The thing was you didn't know how to tell him you’d like to have the peace of mind he’d robbed you of by being all up in your living space every other day back.
He couldn’t just keep coming around.
Things were awkward enough without you having to see him often so already in between fleeting glimpses at school and lingering glances over the occasional dinner.
He might have been able to play it cool because it didn’t matter to him but this was a big deal for you.
He knew your secret and what else were you to do but be on edge and fidgety around him even though it seemed like he wouldn’t say a word of it?
But in the end, you couldn’t voice out your concerns. Not to him and certainly not to your mom.
So you were stuck here.
In between a massive rock and a very hard place.
Forced to endure even though you really felt like you’d been pushed past your limit.
Because he was there all the time.
For the most random reasons doing the most random things at the most random places at the most random time.
One time he had been casually listening to music while smoking by the pool and stroking the strings of his damned, matte black guitar.
You had been so stressed from all the work at school with the elections for new committee members amongst the juniors coming up so you thought to go for a swim to relax your self.
You honestly thought no one was around.
It was a Wednesday at noon so your mother was at lunch with some friends from high school. Plus, in the back of your mind, you’d reasoned that Jungkook usually only ever came over when she was around.
So you put on your best little bikini, grabbed a floatie and a soft drink and you went out.
Only to pause when you saw him sitting on one of the white lounging chairs, just looking at you with his earphones on, fingers having stilled mid strumming with a soft veil of smoke over his face.
You didn’t need to think twice to turn back.
There had been something about how his heavy lidded gaze took you in through the smoke as he did that thing where he cocked his head to the side that made you step back and quickly go back in.
You felt yourself get impossibly hotter when you realized you were probably giving him an eyeful of your poorly covered ass in motion.
You knew he was looking. You could feel his stare. Heavy. Intent. Dark. Swirling.
Like when he'd walked in on you.
You were hot and bothered the entire day.
In the end you couldn’t get anything productive done with a straight mind. And it was all his fault.
.
It took you about two weeks to crack.
That particular evening you were decided on telling your mom about this dilemma you were in.  
Coincidentally, your mom had gone and invited him and his dad over for dinner.
Great. Just great.
You had no choice but to deeply consider the possibility of having to spill the beans another time.
Because choosing now to tell your mom meant you would probably need to tell his dad as well since they were attached at the hip every time he came over.
But no, you wouldn’t expose him in front of his father too. You weren’t cruel. Also you didn’t need the school's menace resenting you for making his strict, uptight dad turn on him.
If he didn’t have a reason to expose you before, he certainly would have one if things spiraled out that way.
So you bit your bitter tongue.
This time around, dinner was a more relaxed affair.
The weather was nice so your mom decided on a barbeque at your back yard.
This meant you wore a flowy sun dress like your mom did and he wore a loose navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up and some black casual beach shorts.
His tattoos were on full display.
You stared.
You were only distracted by them and how the patterns dance on his skin when his muscles flex as he flips whatever he is cooking on the fire because she’s never seen them in full before, you strongly reasoned.
Even with his sleeves rolled up when he was uniform, you'd only seen what he had on his forearm briefly other than the ones on the back of his hand.
That night didn’t count. It was too dim to see well. Also, that night technically didn’t exist.
Your eyes were particularly drawn to the little something peeking out the collar of his shirt.
You were too busy trying to figure out whether the curling ink around his collar bone was the flick of flames or the end of a dragon’s tail to notice that he’d lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe at the dots of sweet at his brows.
When you do, you suddenly found yourself being given an eyeful of impossibly ripped, ridged pure muscle.
You almost dropped your glass like you did your jaw.
What the holy fuck?
At that exact moment, he lifted his gaze and caught you staring.
He was probably expecting you to look away. Any decent human would expect that if they caught someone staring at them so openly. Gawking, to be completely honest.
But you didn’t. You quickly recover, pulling yourself together, and you met his gaze squarely.
You clutched the drink in your hand tight. Your pride wouldn’t let you look away.
In your own way, it was your little pay back, weak as it was.
He held your gaze with an unreadable look on his face for a moment with that signature slight tilt to his head and an added lift to his brow, before he looked away. Wordlessly, he let his shirt fall to push his hair back with his hand and went back to grilling.
You let herself breath then and tried not to think about how his biceps flexed at the motion, how his hair slicked back made him look even more dangerous and how the little smirk you caught on his lips was making you feel things she shouldn’t be.
.
Your mom suggested you all hang out at the pool once you were done eating.
You hadn’t been there since that day with him and quite frankly, you would rather not be.
Not with him.
You knew your mom had a swimsuit underneath her dress. She made you wear one as well.
She probably told them to come prepared for a swim too.
Just thinking about it made you short circuit.
You tore your gaze away from where he was standing with his father at the poolside, staring blankly at the surface as the older man talked to him about something.
You'd just come back from clearing the table with your mom.
When you guys got close enough, the men look your way. Jungkook’s eyes immediately landed on you. Meanwhile you just stare at your mom, trying to ignore his inexplicably fixed attention on you.
‘It’s shame we can’t swim.’
Your mother said, reaching for her boyfriend’s hand. She gave Jungkook a soft, apologetic smile.
‘Maybe once the weather is not so chilly.’ She sighed regretfully. ‘If I had known you were sensitive to the cold I would have suggested something else.’
‘It’s fine.’ Your eyes flicker to him. The smile he puts on is small and polite. ‘I’m not a very good swimmer anyway I’m afraid.’
‘Nonsense.’ She dismissed in good nature. ‘I heard you were quite the athlete in middle school. It’s all your father ever talks about sometimes. Right, honey?'
His father just grumbled.
You couldn’t hide your surprise at this revelation. You didn’t know this before.
Jungkook was quiet for a moment. Then he smiles a little with a shrug.
‘That was in the past.’
Your eyes just glided to him when he said that.
The tug at his lip looked wry and sad.
You’d never seen him like this before.
Solemn. Sombre. Not serious or intimidating or indifferent.
It felt like you were viewing him in a new light.
.
You settled on drinks by the pool. It was what your mom does to lighten things up.
It seemed like the gloom from earlier wasn’t all part just a part of your imagination.
Her mother suddenly chirped in between the light conversation.
'Why don't you guys get together and have a little group study?'
You suppressed the urge to groan and roll your eyes to the back of your head. You knew what she was trying to do and you wanted no part in it.
You had the words no way sitting at the tip of you tongue.
You had the words no way sitting at the tip of you tongue.
He beat you to it.
'That sounds nice,' he dared to say, even politely addressing your mom with Mrs. alongside her surname in the end uttered just the way she liked. 'I'd like that.’
You gawked at him in disbelief. Complete and utterly speechless.
Was he insane ??
'Doesn't it? Great!' Your mom is over the moon. 'Dear, take him to the study. You guys can do your teenager things and get along over books there.'
.
Your mom was loving and caring and she only ever wanted the best for you. You knew this.
Maybe she wanted them to get to know each other. Or maybe she just wanted to have some alone time with her man.
Either way, she practically shoved you two into the house with so much enthusiasm you wondered if she really loved you because suddenly you found yourself stuck inside your house with the last person you wanted to be with and you did not feel safe or rested.
The walk up the spirally stairs to the study had got to be one of the most intense, dragging moments of your whole life.
He remained a few steps behind you all through out the journey, following your lead in his own leisured pace.
A few steps too damn far behind in your opinion.
From that angle, you had a strong inkling that he could see your underwear from beneath your dress.
You knew this because you were familiar with what it felt like when he was staring.
What you couldn’t quite explain is why you didn't do a thing about it.
.
If awkward silence could manifest into a solid form for being so intense, there would have been a third occupant in the room the moment you two walked into the study.
It would’ve been so massive, all the high shelves and wooden tables lined up would have been demolished.
Jungkook remained the quiet person he was, looking around and skimming through the books on the shelves.
You were standing a safe distance away from him, absently doing the same. The books were interesting and all but you were admittedly more taken by the ink on his skin.
Up close you could clearly see the artistic patterns and symbols etched onto him.
While staring at the tats on his knuckles you couldn't help but also notice that the titles he picked up were rather complex.
Certainly not the kind of thing even high intellects reached for. Evidently, those tomes had been collecting dust in there for ages.
You were decidedly curious. Itching to ask. Hell, dying to know.
You dived before you could overthink it and find reasons not to satiate your rabid curiosity.
'You like Reader?' he paused and looked at you from the corner of his eyes. At his questioning look she gesture to the book he was holding. 'That's the third book of theirs you picked up.'
'Yeah.' he said casually, nodding a little while flipping through it. 'Their books are nice.'
A crippling lapse of silence ensues.
You tore your gaze away from his profile to stare at the titles in front of you with a burn at your cheeks, fiddling with the polished spines.
How fucking awkward. All of this.
He probably felt the same.
What were you even doing?
You thought about telling him to ignore your mom’s attempt at trying to make the two of you get along. He obviously wasn’t looking for company or a friend. Quite frankly, neither were you. Certainly not from him. You were just trying to be not rude. Something you aren’t really surprised he probably failed to understand in all honesty.
But then he spoke, dragging you out of your reverie.
'What about you?'
Your head shot up and you found that he was standing a lot closer than before, having moved to reach for yet another complicated book to idly browse through at the top shelf.
This close, you could can smell him. Soft mint and clean soap and moonlight, not smoke. He disregarded the pages in his hands to give you a side way glance.
‘What do you like?’
There was a perpetual spark swimming in the dark depth of his eyes. It was striking. Pretty even.
When he lightly raised a brow at you, your thoughts jumbled all over before it fell back into place and you realized you were staring very openly.
But this time was different from the last time. When he had been miles away, flashing you his ripped abs.
In your reverie, you hadn’t notices that he had leaned a little to meet your eyes, and that he was real close. Like real close, looking at you intently with his head cocked to the side questioningly, like he was wondering what was going on inside your head. You could feel his breath fanning your face.
Shit.
'Uh,’ you scrambled for an answer, quickly tearing your gaze away from him to appraise the bookshelf. Your face felt like it was on fire. Considering how he hadn’t moved, he could probably see just how blazed in the face you were. Out of pure instinct, you grabbed a random book and shoved it into him to make some space in between your bodies.
Maybe with a little too much force. There was a dull thump and it made you wince.
'This.’
You hated how squeaky and breathless you sounded. Like you’d just ran a marathon. Might as well have, with how hard and fast your heart was pounding.
Jungkook took it from you, and you allowed yourself to look at him as he looked the cover over, completely fine, like you hadn’t just smacked him in the chest with a book.
The corner of his lips lifted a little as he flipped it over, cocking his head the other way before he chanced you a glance, making you blink rapidly and stand on edge.
'You sure?' he asked, sounding pretty amused. You were confused for a moment until he held  it up for you to see, flashing you a full on toothy grin like you’d never seen on him before. 'You like books about horse gentilia?'
The jump in your chest was something you quickly dismissed as being one of sinking dread rather than anything else.
All the color that had been congesting your face washed away.
If there was a time you truly wished the ground would swallow your entire existence whole, it would be right then and there.
 
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word is telling me I made up the word genitilia but I’m pretty sure it’s real because it just rolls off the tongue ( smooth ) like butter like a criminal under the cover.
the hole is one of the recurring characters so please be nice to it.
alot of things happening here if you squint and look closely.
any-whomst've, hope you all liked it. let me know if you did and I don't know come say hi? 😳 have a nice day 💜
188 notes · View notes
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tuxedo iv, m | myg
pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader
summary: Your life? Oh, it’s normal. Your cat turned into a man yesterday and you just now humped his leg to orgasm. Sorry, what? That’s not normal? O-Of course, it is! It’s like... having a roommate! You argue because you recorded him without his consent. You eat noodles that he’s trying not to bat at all meal. There are skeletons in your closet. Your fingers get stuck in a Chinese finger trap and then you get fingered. Totally normal, by the way!
warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi LOVES his box; smut (fem reader, mild restraint, penetrative sex, forced orgasms, intentional voyeurism (tsk tsk, Shooky), fingering); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft shy boy Jeon Jungkook (gasp!!!) POV and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin POV; breaking of the fourth wall; you ARE a furry, oh well
yes, I reference Jin’s iconic Billboard interview answer, The Lion King (1994), Yoongi’s BTS café cereal milkshake, Bill Nye the Science Guy, PENTAGON’s ‘DO or NOT’ / ‘Shine’ / ‘Humph!”, “you got no jams”, The Addams Family (1991) – also there’s a bit of a meme scavenger hunt, I reference too many to list XD
part i | part ii | part iii
-
So.
You kinda.
Humped your cat-man’s thigh to orgasm.
You animal.
“Ah… Yoongi,” you started as your cat… man tilted his head, blinking slowly. Unnerving. Why was he staring like that? It reminded you of his previous cat self, where Shooky would watch you with his minty-green eyes, cat face expressionless, whiskers unmoving. What were cats thinking about all the time anyway?
Better yet, what the fuck was Min Yoongi thinking?
You knew what you were thinking. You were thinking that you couldn’t stare at you cum stain on his pink silk pajama leg all day, because that was a master yikes. He had tons of clothes still piled next to the front door of your apartment. All you had to do was convince him to change his outfit. Simple. Easy. Don’t make this weird. Be casual. Be cool as a cucumber. Chill out.
“Um… You should… take off the pajamas… so I can wash them… there are still more clothes you need to try on from the order, right…?”
Your dignity threw up their hands. Why do I even bother being here? I get ignored, the brain in here is smoother than KY Jelly on glass, and you would know, wouldn’t you, you–
“Take them off for me.”
“… P… Pardon?”
“I’m joking.”
He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at your raised hands. You abruptly dropped them, shoving them behind your back. When did that happen? Why did you make grabby hands like that? Surely not because you were expecting anything, right? Definitely not. Not you.
You need help. 
Yoongi turned around, black fur tall swishing, the back of his pink silk pants half-lowered. Your jaw went slack, only to forcefully shut back into place as you realized he was still wearing his black boxer briefs since you had spent yesterday sewing tail holes in his convenience store underwear. Of course, he was still wearing them. There was no reason to take them off.
What, did you want to look at his booty again or something?
(Yes.)
He went through the doorframe of your bedroom without saying a word. 
Hold on a second.
Did Yoongi let you ride his thigh to orgasm, be sweet to you for two seconds, only to fucking bounce without a peep of acknowledgment? Just fucking yeet? Act like that was totally ordinary behavior and saunter off?
Say sike right now.
A millisecond of bravery shot through you and you bolted out of your chair, your desk rattling with your sudden action.
"Yoongi–!"
You nearly collided into him. You weren’t expecting him to be facing you and you yelped in surprise, skidding on your heels. His hands stopped your hips, freezing you in place so you didn't barrel headfirst into his chest. You flailed about, struggling to regain your balance. All this happening while he continued giving you that deadpan stare. Did anything faze this (cat) man? Shit, you were too close to his face. So close you could feel his breath on your nose. 
"You should change too."
Brain malfunctioning at the softness of his tone.
"... W-What?"
Then your neck, ears, face, even your past and future self, the whole timeline became hotter than a supernova, brain erupting into nuclear fusion as Yoongi's deft fingers slid up to the waistband of your leggings, hooking underneath, stroking your skin. He leaned forward, dark eyes out of your vision, chin hovering above your shoulder. 
"Urk?!"
He started pushing your leggings down. 
He started.
Pushing.
Them. 
DOWN!!!
"You can't stay like this all day, right?" Yoongi murmured gently, voice so deep it was resonating in your empty brain, completely clear of all thoughts except those cool fingers pushing your black leggings down, the skintight fabric catching your soaked panties and taking those on the path to hell too, which was probably where you were headed at the rate this was going. "It would be a good idea to change clothes, I think."
You think, Yoongi?
Not you. 
You don't have think. 
A shrill barrage of low meowing cut through the silence.
Your phone was ringing violently in your room. Yoongi paused, backing up with a frown.
"Why is your ringtone a cat chattering?" he asked, tilting his head quizzically. The continuing sonata of cat chitters escalated before his dark eyes narrowed in recognition. He glared at you and pulled his hands away from your hips, snapping you out of your daze.
"You recorded me?"
"What, what, what?" You blinked rapidly, hearing the familiar sharp chirps and barks of Shooky the cat yelling at birds outside the window. "Oh! Well, yeah... it was funny," you explained weakly, trying to shake out the fog of your horny brain. 
"There's nothing funny about trespassers," Yoongi hissed, turning his heel and swiftly marching away. 
"Trespassers?" you echoed, blinking in confusion. That’s why he yelled at them as a cat? Did he think he owned all the land the sun touches or something? The sound was getting louder and louder, indicating the call was about to be missed. No time to think about it. You rushed back into your room, nearly half tripping with your leggings only partway on your ass, scrambling to answer your phone. There was an uncomfortable squish between your legs. Yikes. You did need to change. 
"Hello? Oh, yes, the video? I'm putting it in the Dropbox right now," you babbled, clicking out of a bizarre pop-up ad with some brown-haired guy in a sienna floral shirt and a boxy smile before placing the exported video in the shared Dropbox folder. 
"Sorry, yeah, I know I usually have it done earlier. It's been a weird couple of days..."
-
Kim Seokjin was furious. 
Furious! 
His best friend ignored his face. His beautiful face! How could she! He fumed, deciding to instead spend his time wisely, as he always did.
He stared at his reflection and nodded, stroking his chin. Yes. A true winner. Look at that brilliant smile. Perfect. He looked great today, as he did every day. Seokjin looked away from the mirror on his desk and went back to his MapleStory life.
-
After a quick change and final edits of the completed video sent off to the client, you left your room to find that Yoongi had stacked his new clothes on the coffee table. The brown cardboard box was on the sofa with him (???), as if it was a human being instead of an ordinary box. He had neatly folded the plastic packaging and placed it on the kitchen counter so you could sort it into the correct recycling. 
"Oh... thanks."
He was now wearing a white t-shirt and black pants that actually seemed like they fit, the back of said pants halfway down his butt to accommodate for his tail. He was watching that historical drama; eyes glued the television. The dark brown orbs were hidden by his curtain of black hair. His pointed black ears were turned away from your direction, as if he had no desire to listen to anything you had to say.
As usual.
Yoongi's response was grunting disapprovingly at you. 
You sighed, feeling a little guilty.
"To be fair, I couldn't really ask your consent when you were a cat."
Your cat-man appeared to be out of fucks to give. "You should do laundry," he huffed gruffly. 
You scooted away awkwardly. "Er... yeah. Let me order some delivery for lunch first..."
-
"Yoongi."
"What?"
"What are you doing?"
He stared at his chopsticks, holding them up high. 
"Hmm..."
His pink lips twisted, narrowing his eyes. The fingers in his other hand twitched. He had been staring at the noodles in his ramen for the past five minutes. They were probably cold now. You were getting a bit worried that he didn't like carbs or something. But then you realized that wasn't the case.
His fingers twitched again. 
"They're noodles. Not string."
Yoongi didn't reply, itching to bat at the long noodles. 
"Just put them in your mouth."
He gave you this look. As if to tell you, you don't usually say that. Usually someone else tells you that. 
You thinned your mouth into a line. 
"I know you're admiring the skinny legend that is noodles, but, yes, they're edible. Need I remind you that you used to eat string and I had to pull it out of your mouth when you choked on it?"
Yoongi scowled. Apparently, he did not like being reminded. It wasn’t that pleasant for you to remember either. At least you never had to wait until it passed through his body and never had to pull it out of the other end (ew). He peered them for several more seconds before putting them in his mouth. You noticed his ears perked up as he ate. 
"You like them?" you asked.
He hummed, not looking at you. Was Yoongi still angry about the recording thing? You weren't changing your ringtone regardless of his dissatisfaction. It was cute. You liked it. And he was being a drama queen, acting all catty.
Hold on. 
He was a cat. 
(Man.)
-
"What is this?"
"Dessert."
You took a sip and choked a little at the grainy taste. 
"Is that cereal?"
"Yeah. It's too hard. Better this way."
You gawked at him, holding the weird cereal milkshake with one hand and his half-sewn pants in the other. Was Yoongi being serious or fucking with you? You couldn't tell. His expression was completely neutral. His cat ears were straight up, trained in your direction, judging your reaction. He lifted his free hand and dropped a handful of rice crisps on the top of the thick white drink.
Well. 
Not your preferred thick white drink. 
(You nasty.)
He nodded sagely and sat down beside you. 
"Show me how to sew."
-
We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for you to, please, consider the following. 
See, by all recommendations of building healthy relationships, you should have been a responsible human being and had a serious, but necessary, conversation with your (new?) cat-man. 
Hey, Yoongi, I find you quite physically attractive and we had that moment in my bedroom, so maybe there's some chemistry and, oh, I don't know, maybe you could stick that prefect looking dick inside me because I've been thinking about it nonstop since (checking watch) the literal second I realized it existed, not to be too forward or anything, you know?
That kind of speech could get you a quick restraining order in most cases, but this was your cat (man) who had lived with you – maybe against his will but, then again, he got fed regularly and when you were previously a stray you can’t complain.
So. 
Do or not?
Hmm...
You could have admitted these things, but, alas, this was not the way. No, the way was to remain an absolute fucking mess every time Yoongi leaned over your shoulder to inspect your needlework, nearly stabbing yourself in the finger, your heart leaping your throat, strangling yourself with anxiety. 
Fun!
Could everything be quickly solved by telling the truth?
Debatable. Yoongi didn’t seem like the kind of (cat) man to give you a straight answer. Not because he couldn’t. Mostly because he seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. Were you picking up on that? 
No. You were too busy thinking about dick. 
His dick. 
Honestly, don't know if you should laugh or cry right now. 
-
Jeon Jungkook flipped his phone around and around in his hand, scrunching up his face.
Should he say something?
Yes. No. Yes? No. Yes… No, no, no.
He sighed and threw his phone onto his bed.
He missed and it slid off, hitting the floor. 
That was a bad sign.
“Shit.”
He dived onto the bed, scabbing around on the hardwood to pick up the fallen device. Ah, how come he was thinking about this now? He knew why. He had watched a funny cat video of a tuxedo cat and it reminded him of a certain naughty little fluffball always following around a certain owner. Jungkook hadn’t contacted said owner in nearly a year. Wouldn’t it look bad if he said anything now? But he couldn’t not think about it either. That smile was on his mind all the time now. That feeling from back then, floating around in his head. He sighed again, followed by inhaling with his upper teeth pressed against his inner lower lip, creating a loud sucking sound that no one else could hear because he lived alone.
Alone.
Jungkook lifted his phone, dying sunlight reflecting off the screen, a shine that blinded him for a short moment. He clicked his tongue, squinting as he spied the number still on the screen.
“Ah, why am I always a loser in front of love?”
He wasn’t really saying it to anyone in particular. No one could reply to him anyway.
He tossed the phone carelessly on the pillow and it slid behind it, falling in between the mattress and the bedframe.
“Shit!”
Jungkook spent five minutes fishing his phone out of the narrow crevice before firmly placing it on the bed beside him, pointing at it angrily, glaring at it.
“No! Bad.”
The phone did nothing. It was not sentiment.
Humph! He let out a frustrated puff of breath and flopped down on the bed.
His phone flew up from the force of his flop and smacked him in the nuts.
“SHIT!”
-
“Huh, you pick up things so fast. So meticulous.”
You watched as Yoongi brought the needle through the fabric in slow but clean strokes, following your previous demonstration. For someone who only had opposable thumbs for less than two days, he was surprisingly dexterous. Seemed like he could do a lot with his hands. No. Stop that. Stop being weird.
“Are you a genius?”
Yoongi didn’t hesitate, not looking up.
“Of course.”
You regretted asking. He continued, oblivious to your annoyed expression.
“I’m a cat.”
“All cats are geniuses?” you retorted disbelievingly.
“Most of them are.” His eyes flickered to you, eyebrows raising. “Compared to humans anyway.”
Was this a dig at you and your missing brain cells after running into things chasing after him and your brain exploding at his hotness? Which he wasn’t, by the way. Yeah, that’s right. Take that, Min Yoongi! You’re being mean, so therefore your attractiveness points are going down in this brain, yes, they are and there’s nothing you can do about it, yup, absolutely NOTHING–
He held up the pants, showing off his handiwork.
“Did I do a good job?”
His voice was soft, unsure, head slightly tilted, velvety ears eagerly perked to listen to your response.
Oh no.
Oh nooo.
Oh nooooooo.
He’s cute.
“Yeah. That looks amazing, Yoongi,” you heard yourself saying, smiling at him.
His fair-skinned cheeks flushed pink, lowering the pants quickly to snip the excess thread off, placing the needle in the cat-shaped pincushion like you had done earlier so he could carefully tie a knot to seal his hard work.
Shit.
You were whipped for him.
Damnnit.
To be honest, nothing had changed. You were whipped for him as a cat too.
“I’m going to clear out some space the closet so you have somewhere to put your clothes, okay?”
“A-ah… Thanks…” he mumbled, picking up another pair of pants. Jeans this time.
“Oh, with these you can simply cut the hole. No need to sew because this type of fabric won’t fray too much. Ah, but not directly on the seam. Maybe here?” You pointed slightly to the right of the back middle seam. Your mouth kept talking despite not having any more instructions for him. “Did you know the butt rip was fashionable among women for a little while? Under the pocket though, not the center. That’s just weird.”
Yoongi tilted his head the other way.
“Women are weird,” he said in a deadpan voice.
You narrowed your eyes. “Oi.”
He picked up the scissors, raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you not weird?”
You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He’s got you there. Shit. You puffed your cheeks and turned around, stalking off to your bedroom. Why was he always right? One day, he won’t be right and you’ll mark it on your fucking calendar. Humph.
You slowed at your doorframe, remembering his sheepishly proud face as he showed off his sewing. Crap. What was Min Yoongi so cute for? And how were you supposed to look at other guys after knowing your cat (man) was so damn adorable? And observant and diligent? And driven to be independent, asking questions and trying to do things on his own not even forty-eight hours after becoming human? Cooking, sewing, folding his own clothes… what’s next, playing the fucking piano?
Yeah, right.
You snorted and went into your bedroom.
-
“What’s this?”
You looked up, half-buried in idol merchandise you didn’t even know you had. How long had these sweatshirts been sitting here in their plastic packages? And these posters left in the tubes at the back of your closet? You shouldn’t own so much stuff. You should sell it. You weren’t going to, because these were limited edition items and you would have to be crazy to sell stuff with the cute faces of your favorite idols. You stuck you head out of the closet to see what Yoongi was referring to.
“What? Oh, that?”
You wheezed in embarrassment, ducking back in the closet, pretending to be busy.
“Uh… so… YouTube and Twitch had a crackdown on using copyrighted music and I thought, well, maybe I could maybe make my own, so I brought a keyboard but, uh…”
You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly, trying to figure out how to say you had no musical inclination and only had the ability to appreciate it.
“Basically, I got no jams.”
The keyboard was still in its box. You had opened it and attempted to learn piano, but well, you were shit. Also, you gave up pretty quickly. It was embarrassing considering you had spent so much money on it and were all confident when buying it, only for it to become a hidden occupant in the back of your closet. This was before Shooky – er, Yoongi – had come into your life. Yes. It had been there for literal years.
“I was going to donate it,” you added with a sigh.
You suddenly noticed something out of the corner of your eye. You frowned and reached in, grabbing the thin, hard object before pulling it out.
A…
Skeleton in your closet.
A long-lost Halloween decoration? Why was this here?
“Can I have it?”
You looked up, holding the mysterious plastic skeleton like a small child. “What?”
Yoongi pointed to the keyboard box, black tail swishing rapidly. There was a liveliness in his dark brown eyes and his pointed ears were sticking straight up. You narrowed your eyes.
“You don’t want that skinny box for some reason, do you?” you accused.
He pursed his lips at you, scowling. “No, you can throw away the box. I want to keep the keyboard.”
Huh? “Uh… okay, I guess. More space in the closet, I suppose. Oh, wait…” You stumbled into the back of the closet, feeling around. “I brought a stand for it, hold on… fuck!” You jammed your finger against a metal pole and howled, quickly retreating your hand to massage it. Fuck, that hurt! Scowling, you reached back in to grab the metal keyboard stand and yank it out from between your tightly packed clothes.
“Are you dead?”
“Shit!”
You jumped nearly ten feet, almost banging your head on the clothing rail if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s swift movement of grabbing your shoulders, pulling you to him. He didn’t have to pull far, because he was right behind you. How did he always sneak up on you when he wore a damn bell around his neck that announced his presence? Sorcery. Aliens. Voodoo witchcraft. Now you were convinced these things existed.
(Your cat turning into a man wasn’t enough for you to believe in magic? What’s wrong with you?)
“You’re really clumsy,” Yoongi remarked.
No, you’re spooky, you thought. One of your hands was on his chest. Instant heart palpitations. And handsome. Crap.
“Are you going to do something weird again?”
Weird? You were never weird. What was this man going on about? You needed to reprimand him. Put him in his place! Enough is enough, Min Yoongi! You can’t win over me every time! You raised your head to face him, opening your mouth to give him a piece of your mind.
Yoongi was centimeters away from your face.
You froze.
Ice effect overlapping your whole body.
You dropped the keyboard stand.
Thankfully, it simply fell against your clothing, leaning against your sweatshirts. It stayed upright, held up by the clothing. You didn’t have to worry about it for the time being. It was perfectly fine, unlike you. You were not fine. Not fine at all, staring at Yoongi’s upturned upper lip and unreadable dark brown eyes, slowly blinking at you. Hands on your shoulders, holding you close to him.
Not letting go.
!!!
-
Jeon Jungkook placed his phone on his desk and chopped the air, threatening it.
It wasn’t sentient.
He still didn’t trust it.
He glared at his phone angrily and shuffled back to his bed to have a nice, calm rest that didn’t involve his nuts getting destroyed. Ugh. He was bored. He had plenty to do. Schoolwork. Studying. Cleaning his room covered in clothes. Attempting to cook.
Jungkook made a face at the ceiling.
The last time he tried to cook some glazed sweet potatoes they had been glued to the plate somehow. A neat magic trick, but not edible. He couldn’t get them to unstick, much less be eaten. He had to order out that night. Come to think of it, he spent most of his money on ordering out. Maybe that was a bad habit.
He ran a hand through his bleached, blond hair that had too much toner in it so it had turned slightly silvery-purple. An at-home experiment. Another bad habit.
Jungkook groaned, rolling onto his face.
“I need someone older to take care of me,” he mumbled into the sheets.
Someone older… with a certain tuxedo cat, perhaps? He pouted even though no one was there to witness his cuteness.
“Ahhhhhhh…”
He yelled quietly into his bedding, letting go.
Finally thinking about you.
In front of you, he could tease. He could poke fun. It was easy. You were just so flustered around him, not really trying to hide your attraction to him. The first time he had met you was when he went bowling with Seokjin-hyung (he won, much to the disdain of his hyung). You had stopped by to say hello and Seokjin had introduced you two. It had been a fairly innocent meeting, mostly because for a long time Jungkook couldn’t open his mouth to say anything at all. You were wearing a huge white t-shirt with a colorful strawberry graphic, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and white sneakers with black laces. It had been a hot summer day, he remembered. You were already pretty simply by standing there, chatting animatedly with his hyung. Jungkook tried not to look too closely, sneaking glances in between your conversation.
Seokjin had absolutely no qualms about shitting on your outfit.
“Yah, grandma, you’re off to pick some strawberries in the field or something?”
You had shoved him, rolling your eyes. “You’re a grandpa too! Look at you, losing to kid.”
Was that referring to him? “Ah, I’m not a kid.” Shit. His Busan dialect slipped out a little in his nervousness, deepening his voice.
Your cheeks had peppered pink. “A-ah… right…”
Oh?
Oh!
Oh!!!
You shook your head abruptly and reached into your tuxedo-cat-printed tote bag. “Here’s your freaking hard drive, you monkey,” you had said to Seokjin, handing over the small paper bag.
“Did you manage to restore all my files?” Seokjin asked worriedly, completely ignoring your insult.
You shrugged, looking rueful. “I don’t know how many you had, but I did the best I could.” You leaned forward, eyes narrowing, whispering in his ear. Didn’t matter. Jungkook was close enough to hear.
“Stop downloading porn!”
Jungkook snorted.
Seokjin glared at you. “Excuse me, I am living a healthy lifestyle, do not judge me!” he hissed. “And not in front of the child!”
Yeah, well, Jungkook didn’t let you think he was a child for long.
He wasn't really sure why he was attracted to you. It wasn't only because you were pretty. He just had a strong urge to get a reaction out of you. Ah, maybe that was it. He liked seeing your reactions to things and did everything he could to get more and more interesting reactions out of you. You never told Jungkook to stop. You told Seokjin to stop all the time.
"I swear if you make one more pun, I'm going to tie your tongue into a knot!"
"Then I'd really be tongue-tied, eh? Eh?! WAIT, NO, WATCH THE FACE, NOT MY FACE!!!"
Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to mess with you. 
Fuck. 
(Yes, actually.)
He couldn't stop. It was too fun. It didn't help that you had a cute surprised face. Didn't help that you had a great smile. Didn’t help that you had an amazing body under your clothes and knew exactly how to use it (Jungkook wouldn’t admit it, but he learned a lot from you). Didn't help that you would chase after your tuxedo cat and scoop up that furball even after getting railed by him, which Jungkook found very impressive. 
"Shooky, you loon, I told you to stop running on the counters..."
And you would cradle that cat to your chest, petting his head and waiting for him to purr and lick your nose before releasing him, satisfied that he was no longer going to be a menace. He still was though. He was a cat. You forgave Shooky every time. 
Just like how you let Jungkook get away with everything. 
Present Jungkook frowned, rolling onto his back, frowning at the ceiling. Maybe you thought he was a fuckboy and had a negative image of him. He scratched his head, tongue in cheek, thinking hard. No. You didn't seem like the type. You were never angry at him, not really, not even when he interrupted your work to mess around in bed. Exasperated, maybe, but it never seemed like you were holding an internal grudge or upset at his nonchalant actions. Ah, but he hadn’t tried to talk to you in almost a whole year. Would you think he was a dick if he tried to contact you now? He couldn’t ask you. He couldn’t ask your best friend. Seokjin-hyung still had no idea. 
Jungkook laughed to himself. 
He kind of went behind his hyung's back, whoops.
He looked to his left side, the side you used to fall asleep on when he spent the night. He could imagine it, your past self and his past self, your hair on your pillow, blankets loosely over your chest, his hand on your breasts as you slept. 
A pair of mint-green eyes glaring at him from the left side of your body. 
Jungkook remembered poking that pink nose with his index finger, the rest of his hand still on your tits. The tuxedo cat had given him a very displeased look. 
"Are you mad?"
The cat didn't reply. He was a cat. 
"You're really lucky. You get to be with her every day," Jungkook had whispered, not wanting to wake you up. "She takes good care of you, you know. I see how much she loves you."
The cat closed his eyes, resting his furry head on your arm. 
"Do you love her back?"
Maybe. Maybe not. Jungkook didn't know. He wasn't a cat. He couldn't ask in cat language. He let go of your breasts for a second to scratch the top of Shooky's head, right between those velvety ears. He began purring like a little motor. 
You continued your adventures in la la land, oblivious to this interaction. 
"I guess cats are kind of simple, huh?" Jungkook mused, smoothing out the black fur on top of that little head. "You don't have to think about much. You don't have to get a job, plan for the future, or worry about being a good husband."
His hand lowered.
"But I do."
You breathed softly against him, nuzzling closer to his body. Jungkook put his hand back on your breasts and you stilled, lost in your dreams. He breathed out, warmth against your skin. He saw the side of your lips twitch ever so slightly upwards, but maybe it was only his imagination wishing to see what he wanted.
Only a wish.
He had placed his nose by your cheek and breathed in, losing himself in dreams as well. 
-
Yoongi looked into your eyes. 
Then both of you turned to opposite sides and sneezed loudly.
"Fuck–"
"That was horrible," Yoongi hissed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and backing up. "Ugh, human bodies are awful."
You shook your head roughly. "Someone must be thinking about me... and you, I guess..." you mumbled, clearing your head before prodding him in the chest. "Also, last time I checked, now you're human too, so jokes on you. Hope you enjoy the suffering!" You stuck your tongue out childishly.
Yoongi gave you an annoyed look, reaching over you to grab the keyboard stand. You stiffened at his closeness, but he quickly withdrew, taking the metal stand and leaving you disappointed, but not surprised. Couldn't even pretend to be shocked.
He lifted it up so it wouldn’t drag on the floor and began to walk out of the room, ignoring you.
Classic. 
You thinned your mouth into a line and picked up the white plastic skeleton. What to do with this? Fuck it. Back into the closet it goes, along with your winter wardrobe, summer wardrobe, and other knickknacks.
Well. 
Maybe you could donate a couple things to charity. 
Like this Chinese finger trap. Why was this here?
You stuck your fingers in it. 
S... shit!
Yoongi reappeared to grab the keyboard. You opened your mouth, about to ask for help, looking up to see your cat-man standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, glaring. Very displeased and disapproving, reminding you a whole lot of a certain tuxedo fluffball.
"I'll say it again."
Huh? You gave him a confused look. 
He pointed to his pointed, velvety black ears. 
"I'm a cat, duh."
And then he walked out. Fuck him. You didn't need his help. 
-
You couldn’t get it off.
Panik!
Yes, you can. It was just a finger trap. You were smart. You graduated university. You had been a human for many more years than Min Yoongi. He had been human for two days! And besides, Yoongi was mean. You didn’t need a meanie to help you. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no (cat) man.
Kalm.
You…
You…
You couldn’t get it off!!!
PANIK!!!!!!!
-
“… What are you doing?”
You were the epitome of the emoji holding back tears.
“Y… Yoongi…” you whined.
He blinked at you, holding the manual of the keyboard upside down. The keyboard was already set up on the stand, pushed up against one of the walls of your living room. He was using the cardboard box that his clothes came in – he really loved that damn box – as a makeshift seat.
“Are you dying?”
You held up your hands, pouting. The bronze dragon Chinese finger trap was still stuck on your index fingers. It had been roughly twenty, maybe thirty minutes.
Your cat-man just blinked at you and it.
“I… can’t get it off… Help…”
He raised an eyebrow and put the manual on the keyboard before walking over to you. He placed his chin in between his index finger and his thumb, frowning. Looking this way and that. The realization was slowly kicking in.
Yoongi wasn’t hiding his smirk very well.
“You know how to take it off!” you howled, smacking him in the chest.
He cackled, backing up as you repeatedly whacked him with the back of your hands, furious because it was obvious that he knew what to do and was simply not doing it to piss you off, his grin getting wider and wider, still not saying anything, this little shit, backing up into your living room as you chased him, stupid cat-man was fucking fast, dodging you easily, your joined hands and annoyed demeanor making you a bit wobbly.
“Min Yoongi, I swear I’ll–”
“You’ll what?” he teased, raising his hands in mock innocence. “Maybe I don’t know?”
You scowled at him. “You definitely know.”
He smirked.
Shit.
It was sexy and you were supposed to be mad!
You were next to the keyboard now. And a certain something. Hm. You jerked your head to the cardboard box. His eyes widened.
“You wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“I would.”
“You wouldn’t, you heathen.”
“You better fucking believe I would!”
(You’re threatening to recycle a cardboard box to force your cat-man to get you out of a metal finger trap that you put yourself in. Um, are you okay? Better yet, are both of you okay???)
He marched over to you, relenting with an angry huff, yanking up your hands.
“There’s a trick to it, of course.”
He pressed the dragon’s horns in tandem with the dragon’s beard on either side and the trap released your red fingers, making you gasp at the sudden freedom. Holy shit. You stared at your freed index fingers. You had two hands. Wow. Amazing. Show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique…
Yoongi placed the finger trap on the coffee table.
“Hmph. This thing is probably only worth three dollars.”
You poked your index fingers together, suddenly ashamed. “Sorry I threatened your box.”
Yoongi grunted, cat ears flicking back and forth in annoyance.
You poked his stomach with your index fingers. “Er… I just… wanted you to help me...”
“You weren’t going to do it anyway.”
You puffed your cheeks, narrowing your eyes, irritation flaring back. “Well, maybe I was! What were you going to do, leave me like that, unable to use my hands for the rest of my life?” You jabbed him repeatedly in the chest, driving your point home in between your snappish words. “Hmm? I need hands to do things! Important things!”
Yoongi suddenly grabbed your wrists and held them up over your head.
(Aw shit, here we go again.)
“Y-Yoongi?!”
He raised an eyebrow at you.
“What important things do you need to do with your hands?” he asked.
Oh shit.
Oh no.
Why was his vice suddenly so deep? Did he even know???
Your eyes widened, brain malfunctioning, your last two working brain cells rushing to the library to find the book titled ‘things you can do with your hands’, opening it, reading, handsy things. That was it. That was all you had at this moment. Why was it that your brain had the memory equal to the RAM of a fucking Tamagotchi every time your cat-man touched you?
Oh, yeah, that’s right, because he was a cat literally two days ago and you never thought about fucking your cat because that’s just fucking weird, but now he’s a man, so maybe it’s okay, unless it’s not, and then what does that make you? FUCKING WEIRD, THAT’S WHAT.
You yelped as your back collided to the wall. When had you walked that far? What was going on? What was life??? You were yanked back to reality as Yoongi leaned down, tilting his head, eyebrow still cocked, dark eyes darker from his fluffy black hair falling over his eyes.
“I hear you don’t always like being able to use your hands.”
Holyfuckingshitcrap.
Instantly, your cheerful brain decided to play the memory of you begging Jeon Jungkook to hold down your wrists so you couldn’t stop him and his relentless assault on your pussy, one hand grasping both your wrists and the other rubbing two fingers on your clit, thrusting his hard cock in and out of you as he abused the sensitive bundle of nerves, pinning you to your bed, panting in your face.
“You like this, noona?” Jungkook had purred.
(Respectfully.)
Voice low, deep, and sexy, driving you insane, waves of pleasure crashing into you over and over, pussy throbbing with repeated orgasm.
“F-Fuck, yes, oh fuck, Jungkook, yes… don’t s-stooop…”
Shooky had sat on the highest level of his cat tree, glaring down at you two.
Shit, shit, shit…
Yoongi leaned in even more, eyes disappearing, lips next to your ear. You felt him transfer one of your wrists to his other hand, now holding both with one hand as the other fell against your body.
“In fact, I’ve seen it firsthand,” he whispered, low, soft, dangerous.
Your brain ended the film reel in your head, giving you two mental thumbs-up and beaming happily at you as if it had done a great thing.
No, brain.
You’ve fucked me over and now I’m horny as fuck!
A needy whimper popped out of you as Yoongi’s free hand slipped between your bodies, fingers dancing deftly across the fabric of your sweatshirt, following the rhythm of your racing heart as it went down, down, too fast, sanity unable to keep up, you rising into his touch, his fingers sliding underneath the waistband of your leggings. This pair wasn’t as tight as the previous pair, but the fabric still clung to your skin just as tightly.
Wait. Is that you? Moaning?
(Yes.)
He dragged them down your hips, having to let go of the waistband for a moment to push them past the sides before resuming, you moaning in the space where he should have a human ear, but he didn’t, because Yoongi was a cat-man and his pointed furry ears were at the top of his head.
“Y… Yoongi…”
“Hm?”
His soft lips lightly pressed against your ear and you shivered. His grip on your wrists wasn’t very tight. You could break out any time. He was only loosely holding you.
“I… I am…” you quivered, voice shaking.
“I want to make you feel good.”
His murmur was so gentle, so calm, so quiet that it almost didn’t feel real. Almost a purr.
“Do you want me to make you feel good?”
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
“Yes.”
You said it.
Your panties were leaving with your leggings, shoved down mid-thigh. Your name in your ear, spoken by Min Yoongi, his body hovering over yours, black hair against your cheek, his fingers slipping between your legs, your heart slamming in your chest, thighs squeezing his hand.
“Feels nice here,” Yoongi mumbled, breath feathering on your skin. A single finger grazed your wetness and you gasped, his raspy chuckle in your ear. “Wet.”
Your eye twitched, slightly annoyed. No, really? Thanks for letting me know, it’s not like I can fucking feel it myself or anything, I absolutely need your riveting play-by-play–
“Urk!”
Yoongi scooped two fingers into your pussy and felt around inside, rubbing his fingertips against your throbbing walls.
“Ah…” He was breathing hard, pushing them in joint by joint, his own inhale shallowing. “Fuck, it’s so tight in here, are you alright?”
Oh, my fucking God, Yoongi, just fucking destroy me, I’m not a virgin!
You sucked in a shaking breath, mentally beating your inner thot back down. “F-Feels really nice, Yoongi… just… a little more…” He sank his fingers all the way to the knuckles. “Fuuuck, yes, oh, fuck yes…”
You rocked your hips into it, moaning, eyes closing, building up a pace, not really waiting for him to figure out that he could move his fingers too. It didn’t matter though, because Yoongi was highly observant and diligent, and, as much as you avoided to admit it, he had seen you get fingered hundreds of times, all over the apartment, in all sorts of embarrassing positions and with plenty of visible, graphic, high-definition detail, better than any porn video.
By – yup, you guessed it – Jeon Jungkook.
Yoongi began his own pace to match yours, thrusting his two fingers in and out until you were a hopeless mess, whining and bucking against his touch, your juices coating his hand, staring up at the ceiling with the tips of his black ears in your peripheral vision, tilted towards you to listen to every single one of your sounds. His heavy exhale invaded your head, lost in Yoongi’s rhythm that was uniquely his, only able to cry out, harder or faster, losing yourself in him, his scent, the smell of your vanilla body wash, and the rapidly strengthening sweetness between your legs rising up despite it dripping down your thighs.
“Yoongi… oh, fuck, Yoongi…”
It just felt too good, speed, strength, sound, wet messy squelches of his fingers entering you over and over, your pussy responding in kind, shuddering around them, clenching tight, hips rocking into every plunge to deepen the stroke, prolonging your own orgasm, savoring the moment.
“You feel so good…”
That wasn’t you.
That was Yoongi.
Whispering in your ear, probably not even realizing his own dirty talk.
“So fucking wet and warm,” he murmured, the rumble purring in his chest, soothing but also far too sexy. “Sucking my fingers back in, fucking me back… You really like me this much?” His lips brushed your ear, chaste kisses compared to the rough fingering of his slippery digits pushing into you repeatedly, the sounds getting louder and lewder because you were getting wetter and wetter. “Am I really that good-looking to you?”
Yoongi, are you BLIND, DEAF, or BOTH???
“Fuck yes, you are, what the fuck?” you gasped out, turning your head slightly, one of his dark brown eyes locking with yours, your jaw clenched with the effort of you holding back your orgasm to respond to his ludicrous question. “You are so fucking handsome I couldn’t even last two days of being in your presence, thirsting after you!”
You heard Yoongi chuckle, the sound resonating and teasing your ear.
“Actually, you couldn’t even last one, remember?” he drawled slyly.
His knuckle grazed your throbbing, aroused clit.
“Fuck!”
Your body twisted, whining wail torn out of you as you came, pushing your head and hands against the wall, nerves sparking and shaking, intense pleasure flooding all over your senses from holding back, breathless whimpers of Yoongi’s name, grinding into his hand. He let go of your wrists. They prickled with pins and needles of lost circulation, but you didn’t give a shit, grabbing his hand between your legs and shoving it back in you before it could retreat, riding out your orgasm, milking it for every single gram of ecstasy, cherishing every single second of another’s hand inside you, not just another but your disturbingly attractive man who was previously a cat sleeping in your lap exactly forty-eight hours ago as you innocently watched American Horror Story.
“Y… Yoongi?” you panted, orgasm petering out, trickling waves subsiding.
“Y… Yes?”
He wasn’t making fun of you. You could hear the nervousness in his voice.
“Can I kiss you?”
His face appeared in front of yours.
“Yes.”
You didn’t think twice.
You closed your eyes and leaned forward, lips on his, your satisfied sigh tickling his skin, kissing him hard, the intimacy you desired for so long, moments you spent all year trying to keep it at bay, no one to show your affection but tiny kisses on Shooky’s furry head, but now one of your hands was cupping Yoongi’s cheek, deepening the kiss, him pressing back against you, sandwiching you between the wall and himself. You let go of his hand between your legs and held both his cheeks, peppering light pecks against that lovely mouth. You wanted to kiss him over and over, so nice, so lovely, his barely-there gasps drifting on your lips with every kiss.
His fingers slipped out and touched your thigh.
You drew back, heart thudding, still holding his face, his round cheeks a little squished in your hands.
He raised his hand and put his pussy-soaked fingers in his mouth.
You jerked your hands back. “Y-Yoongi!” you exclaimed, shocked.
His pink tongue slipped around his fingers, tiny kitten licks to slurp it all up. He hummed, small smirk playing on his lips. You gawked at him.
“Y-You don’t have to–”
“You like it, don’t you?”
You shut your mouth, cheeks burning with heat.
Yoongi smirked wider, nimble tongue slipping around and around, your eyes glued to the movement, brain already dreaming up lecherous scenarios. His dark brown eyes flickered to you, eyebrows rising.
“Hmm…”
“W-What?” you snapped, trying to collect yourself. He was giving you that look again. That enigmatic expression of maybe-maybe-not. Yoongi shrugged, taking his fingers out of his mouth.
“I think we should do that again sometime.”
Your mind went blank.
Again? Now? Later?
Next Tuesday?
WHEN, MIN YOONGI, WHEN?
“… Urk?”
Those cunning dark brown orbs sparkled with mischief. “Hmm, then again, maybe we’ll do something different next time,” he pondered out loud, taunting you with the suggestive depth of his voice. He backed up, tail swaying from side to side, his grin widening, turning into an open-mouthed smirk that showed off his pretty teeth and devious expression.
His next words were the verbal equivalent of pushing your full glass of brainpower right off the table and sending it crashing to the floor.
“I have a lot of things I want to try.”
-
part v
--
masterpost
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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years
Text
Disney and Pixar Villains x Reader || Smexcerpts
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I kinda forgot it was Easter weekend despite bring at my Grandma's place for the holiday 🤦‍♀️ And I was writing this when I got home so Decided it would be a (Belated, in some places) wierd Easter present to you guys.
🥚🍫🥚🍫 Happy Easter! ? XD 🍫🥚🍫🥚
Plots / Includes:
Human!Chick Hicks- &, well, sex in a car. // Shameless groupie fucking and age difference. |450+ Words|
Hades- & his body heat. // Cockwarming and soft space-sharing post-sex. |460+ Words|
Jafar- & your self disgust. // Affair's and fingering. Lets see how many 'obscene' synonyms I can use in this one. |810+ Words|
Ursula- & her first time working with human holes. // Safe experimentation, tentacles, and public space (The beach of course). |680+ Words|
Warnings: Most of the warnings are on the Plot section. All the 🔞smuttiness🔞. All of it.
Chick Hicks:
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You don't know what it is, about Chick- on TV, and actually in real life as well, he's repulsive. He really is. You actually came to the race in order to try and fuck Lightning... but then you met Chick, and it was all too easy, and the next thing you knew- you were crammed in the iconic green car, uncomfortable, and getting fucked unexpectedly well by the narcissistic old man, instead?
Let it be said though, that you are not the type of slut to act high and mighty, about who you fuck. And so you're quite prideful about this. Chick is an ass and disgusting, but this whole situation? Having a famous old jackass thrusting and groping you so selfishly, hidden away in just a car (Not a room, not even a stall) totally willingly and knowing you'll forever see him on TV and feel an odd combination of shame and desire burn inside you after this?
That's hot.
So you let yourself get lost in it, not holding back your moans at all and kind of hoping you get caught- that a picture of you a sweaty mess in this car with Chick's fat and hairy cock buried half inside you (With the raunchy bits blurred out, of course) ends up on Page Six. You even reach up with your hands, and pull him down by his racer's uniform to lick a stripe up his neck; Shameless.
The sound of irregularly paced slapping, your embarrassingly real whines and worst of all his terrible dirty talk fill the car and its absolutely obscene, but its perfect. Exactly what you want from him.
"You like that, don't you? Hah- such a little slut, waiting in line for a taste of famous dick. You came all this way for me, didn't you? Ha, ha. Glad to make your dreams come true, baby." He teases, probably badly but you're too close to your high to really notice.
"Oh fuck," He grunts; Your tight, young hole sucking and milking everything he has from him as he thrusts in and out with more stamina then you had previously expected.
You have to remember to give him more credit, from now on.
"Harder!" You plead, loud enough for anyone walking by the car to hear. They would know what's happening without even peering into those dark windows. "Harder, harder! Please- "
"I'm working on it, baby, hold on- " You bite down on his shoulder as he starts shoving himself in even harder, one of your hands slipping into his hair and tugging.
And ohhhhhh, fuck. Does he enjoy that, shuddering out a sigh and fuck under his breath. Who knew Chick Hick's had a pain kink?
Well, you think, a satisfied smirk slipping across your lips as your eyes fall closed, now you do-
Hades:
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Everything about Hades ran hot, it was just him. His temperament, for sure, but also his skin (From the top of his head and and the tips of 10 long, spindly fingers right down to his cock- and it got even hotter when aroused), the divine blood racing through his veins... and his thick cum, too.
You loved to just sit with Hades like this; Set in his lap, like a pretty little prize bestowed upon the God, after getting fucked silly. His searing cock still wedged in your meat and forcing your nerves to stand on end for minutes after you finished.
And his seed warm comforting dripping out around him because you're just- entirely too full.
You stretch your body up to brush kisses over his shoulders, smiling when you realise how boiling his skin still is, even minutes after he finished, and glance up to his face to see how he's doing.
His hair is still flushing orange every now and then, embers flying red into the air above you before dissipating. In fact- you come to realise, watching him, that Hades fire is crackling. Like a campfire.
Giggling softly, you look down again but reach up with your arms, entangling them comfortably around his strong neck; Careful not to get burned though. A gentle mewl escapes you at the stretch, feeling pleasantly dozy and well-satisfied.
You could take a nap right here, actually, the feeling of his warmer then natural cock nestled inside you acting like a hot water bottle...
"Uh uh uh... " An ironically icy looking finger touches suddenly to the soft skin under your chin, guiding you to gaze back up at him and that smirk. A familiar, dangerous tone in his voice captures your full attentions back, far too easily. "Did I say we were done? ... No, I don't think I did." His thumb and forefinger hold your chin in place, arching your neck back to look down at you, or your mouth. "Trust me, you're gonna wanna be awake for this."
"Mhmmm," A lazy grin spreads across your face in anticipation, the soft skin of your arm gliding across his shoulder as you lean closer to his face; A little, mischievous glint in your eye as you tilt your head to the side. "But you do all the work, because you're making me sleepy~ "
He grins back, a warm and prideful tone to it as he looks fondly at you. "No problem doll... " His hands, almost hot enough to brand you if he needed to - which you both know he doesn't, - fall down to your thighs, spread wide across his ample lap causing you to let out a little whimper, and he grips them like they're his- before his lips appear by your ear, and under his breath Hades whispers; "Lets see if we can fuck sense back into you for once, huh mortal?"
A shudder escapes you involuntarily just before his toasty lips connect to yours once again and a hot tongue re-enters and warms your mouth.
Jafar:
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Why you let him treat you like this, you have no clue. Its pathetic- You're stronger then this. Better then this.
"Oh... And what might you be doing in here, Y/N... ?" Jafar asks, shifting swiftly from surprised to indecently pleased as easily as a chameleon switches patturns- almost without even thinking about it. Because being fake is as natural as breathing, for Jafar. His eyes slip from you on his bed to the perimeter of his private chambers. "In my room... "
But you hand yourself over entirely- you do things that are ridiculously obscene, for him. With him. And why...?
"Close the door." You demand, almost hissing. You don't want anyone to know you're here, to know what you're doing with him of all people- And he's just standing in the open doorway like he's not too bothered either way. Its infuriating and terrifying at the same time, and he just looks amusedly to you for a moment despite the urgency in your tone, thinking how cute your- demanding things of him, - and you get the picture and give in, hesitently. "Please."
"As you wish, my dear... "
And the door latches closed behind him. Your heart thumps so loudly inside your chest that you can hear it in your ears as his cat-like gaze flickers over your body in its entirety- stopping not-at-all subtly over things he certainly shouldn't gawk at so openly.
Shameless, you think, as his tall figure towers over you.
You have no logical rational to offer for it. He's not particularly smooth, he isn't insanely sexy, and he certainly has no redeemable features that you've discovered as of so far.
"Now my dear... I can determine myself why you would turn up here so desperately... But I'll take it from here~ " He sets his staff down carefully against the wall before turning his poisonous gaze back on you, a smirk slipping across his disgusting mouth. "Why are you still clothed?"
You gape. "What kind of question- "
"Unless you desire only the flavour of my snake tonight, which I assure you I would be perfectly happy to provide to you, I suggest you get to your feet and bare yourself for me. Now."
You have nothing except how your heartbeat picks up in speed when his eyes zero in on you when he knows you want him to do things to you, and how the foul way he talks to you can make you deliciously slick in point 7 seconds.
You're throbbing already at the degrading way he talks to you, how what he says makes you want to report him but the way he says it keeps you there.
So you stand.
First goes your lower clothing, hooking your thumbs between your skin and the waist band and peeling it down to the ground before stepping out. You cant help glancing at Jafar before even picking at your upper clothing, and your heart drops at the sight of his vile gaze consuming your genitalia like he's a starving man- even when you just fucked eachother this time yesterday.
Taking a deep breath, you do away with the last bit of your outfit, and he takes his time from then on. He doesn't even touch you for a few minutes, just letting you stand there feeling stupid and cold and absurdly wet. Your face is stony but every other biological response screams for him to do things to you. Please. Hurry up already.
Whatever he wants.
He's a pig, who genuinely believes that women should be silent, that their mouths are for nothing but assurances and a mans pleasure. A narcissist, who thinks he's above everyone else- including the Sultan, and you. And he's cruel. The disgusting man really has no seemingly rectifiable features.
And yet-
When his hands finally get to you, theirs no foreplay. Jafar goes straight to last base, long fingers slipping up easily into your soaking whole and rubbing in there, exploring in there- and you let out a needy moan, hands grasping for purchase at the fabric encasing his sides.
His other hand glides too-gently, creepily, snake-like in fact... down your side. From your back, to down your ribs, to your hip where he teases like he's going to stop and touch around the back, before continuing down your leg and drumming his fingers against your skin as low as he can go without adjusting his height.
Your eyes slip up to his, hatred and disgust glazed over by want, and a nasty grin spreads across his face. "Up, my dear." He says gently, like there is anything between the two of you apart from carnal desire.
You obey, lifting your leg so he can hook it over his hip and spread your hole open wider for his greedy taking- digging in deeper with his fingers - one, two, three, - , before leaning down and smothering your lips with his in a kiss that's full of far too much tongue, and far too much intimacy.
The fact that its unbelievably sexy, just makes you hate yourself.
-You cant help needing him.
Ursula:
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"You know, darling... " The sea witch starts, her gaze affectionately on your bare, lower privates as she floats closer to the rocky edge of land, where you sit with your legs spread for her. "I've never done this with a human, before... " She trails off chuckling, as if its such a weird idea that she's even surprised she's doing it. A thick finger finds your entrance and gives a shallow, experimental thrust, and she bites her painted bottom lip excitedly when its wet and curiously squishy, and you buck up into her touch. "Doesn't that make you feel special?"
"Uh-Uh... " Sure. "But do you know what to do?" You're already totally turned on, but you're more then happy to give her a helping hand if she doesn't know what to do with... this, kind of, genitalia. It'd be hot.
Her finger goes in again, rubbing up and down before emerging a second time, causing you to curse and throw your head back. Maybe she's already got it figured out, actually. "Oh," Her voice goes darker and huskier, undeniably aroused by all this, herself. "I think I can work it out. You just lay back and look pretty."
"O-okay... " Oh god, you cant help but think as you do as she says, looking up at the evening sky. Ursula is going to wreck you.
And you are so going to let her.
As you focus on the clouds moving ever-so-slowly above you both, the sunset's pinks and oranges lighting them up, Ursula all but devours the oddly sexy thing in front of her, with her beedy eyes. Its like nothing she's ever brought to orgasm before, and surely other mercreatures would consider her a freak for wanting to put her mouth on it, but really- who cares what they think? More of you for her~
To start off, she decides to continue doing what seemed to pleasure you already; Pushing her finger inside the slick whole and stroking the walls inside, setting a sensual pace that seems to get her pet's delicate thighs shaking, in no time. And oh god, does she like that.
"Hmmm," Ursula hums, wondering as she touches you. How would you react to something... bigger...
Before you realise what's happening, something wet and slimy wanders into you, a fatter, squishier appendage stuffing itself gently into you and a wanton moan escapes you at the full, plush feeling; Hips raising to get more of it. "Ahhhhh~ " More more more-
You recognise that its a tentacle and you're basically now a hentai model, but what do you care- its unbelievably hot, and it fills you way better then any measly dick could. Ursula is going to yank an orgasm from you in no time and you cant wait.
Ursula chuckles, watching her tentacle disappear into that curious, tight little hole and getting mesmerised by it. She loves how your hips desperately roll, wanting more and more and more, wanting the tip deep inside you- and she gives it to you. Pushing deep inside, until she finds a block.
Then she pulls out, before thrusting her entirety right back into you at top speed, making you see white for a fucking second. "Oh my god!- "
They are just the perfect little toy, Ursula thinks, chewing on her bottom lip at the obscene sight of her tentacle shoving into the tiny, unfamiliar space.
When you come you come hard, oozing cum around the appendage and letting it slip onto the rocks beneath you- especially when Ursula takes herself out of you again. She watches the creamy fluid drop out of you, glancing at the rest of your body to see an adorable look of peace washing over you, before a mischievous smirk slips across her lips.
"I wonder if you taste as spectacular as you felt, darling?"
You're just trying to breath, coming down from your high, so you're slow on the uptake but get the picture when something humid comes down on you.
Ursula takes you entirely in her mouth, not caring to take it slow on herself, and gets a good taste of you for the first time.
And certainly not the last.
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slasherwife · 4 years
Note
(I was originally thinking of Michael Myers for that ask, but honestly any slasher you see fit to add would also be a treat to read 💕)
aww kk! 💕 (i literally love this idea here u go uWu 🥺💖💖)
“Sharp as knives...”
RZ!MichaelxReader
by jena marie
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Summary:
Y/n just seems too badass and lethal for anyone in Haddonfield, except for one man. She signs her fate unknowingly when she snaps a pervert in half at the bar. Just like that, Michael wants her. xD warnings: cussing and a wee bit of violence :) also michael being a total stalker but what were we expecting
Her eyes were piercing. Sharp and direct as knives. It was like she looked right through you. She wore eyeliner that made them darker than they already were, and her hair flowed like a waterfall as she walked the streets. When she was angry, her voice could cut metal, and she never showed her teeth unless she was snarling.
Michael was in love. He though she resembled something of a feral wolf, and yet she was such a tiny little thing. One time she went into 7/11 for cigarettes, and her tshirt was so large that the shoulder-sleeves went past her elbows, and the bottom reached her mid-thigh. Her shorts barely showed, and her hair was in a messy bun. He watched her the entire time, practically glowing with dominance over the whole vicinity even though he was nowhere to be seen. He was there for her only. He was going to be the ultimate nightmare to anyone who gave her so much as a wrong look.
One time he got close enough to see her wrists, and how easily he could snap them within his grip. Once he could see her slender neck, and imagined how perfectly it would pulse around his long, thick fingers. He wanted to feel that, and yet the thought of harming her brought him anguish.
Today was hotter than normal, and Michael sought shade in the pine trees as usual. It was quiet in there and no person thought to go wandering, so that was his home for now.
There she was again. Her languid steps and flowing hair, bounced as she walked with purpose to the new bar that had opened up a few months ago. Michael watched, eyes cracked and predatory, his gaze on her pretty little form.
She was getting closer. Her form growing, although not so much due to the height of this pretty girl.
Michael wanted to sneer at how tiny she looked up close, and was too caught up in his fantasies to notice that she caught sight of his face in the bushes, and was making her way to him.
Her eyes were piercing, sharp, direct. They cut through Michael and he loved it. He never wanted to look away from the sheer power she radiated. They were e/c. Beautiful, like gems, against the glow of hell within them.
Then she was still. And they stood five feet apart.
“Have you been following me?” Her voice wasn’t sharp, it wasn’t threatening, nor did it sound frightened or shaky. It stood tall, and Michael couldn’t read her expression. It was a blank page.
Michael nodded slowly, not emitting any sound whatsoever. It was deathly quiet.
“Why?”
She wanted to know if he wanted to hurt her. Maybe he wanted to take her forcefully against a tree or on the asphalt against the dark sky.
Michael didn’t reply. He only stared. It was something intense, brooding, large. The gaze, Michael’s usually and most casual look, emitted danger, darkness, and sadism. It was something that you didn’t want to come near, let alone be in the view of. And yet she didn’t even flinch. She didn’t even blink. They’re gazes we’re locked, like two lions trying to intimidate each other.
Then, Michael wanted to see something. He wanted to see her reaction. He reached out, and grabbed her wrist, his rough hands scratching against her soft skin. He pulled her towards her, to which she obliged with a blank face, and he could finally smell her scent.
She smelled like an oak forest, peppermint, and jasmine. He could smell her perfume and her shampoo.
Y/n caught his scent too. He smelled like every dark thought she had ever had, every sinful desire, every morbid feeling— and yet so sweet.
He dug his fingers into her hair, something that seemed rough to Y/n, but bliss to Michael.
“I have to go.” She said, an edge to her voice that Michael couldn’t name, and his grip tightened. He seemed to growl. The sound echoed, and it swallowed her.
Michael then let go, and the girl stumbled backwards. Then it showed on her face, giving Michael a sense of satisfaction. She wasn’t scared, but she looked up at his in awe. How morbid, how dark, how beautiful it is to experience a scratch of his impulses and want more.
Michael stepped back, disappearing into the pines like a ghost.
The guitar was loud, blaring in the dark lit room, the bass shook the floor, and Y/n was having the time of her life. A man from the bar licked his lips with predatory eyes and Michael was already aware. He was internally shaking at the thought of competition. Then again, when does he ever lose?
The man with messy hair contained within a dirty baseball cap rose from his chair, and stalked drunkenly over to her. Michael seethed, as he watched through the small window of the staff-only room of the bar with the manager strangled dead on the floor behind him. He growled a guttural and animalistic growl, and watched with eyes aflame and murderous.
She strummed, making her guitar wail in a fit of rhyme and rythme, and she never wanted to stop. She didn’t even notice the poor man until he felt her up from behind her. She initially pushed him away slightly and absentmindedly, too caught up in her trance of music and being drunk on rhythm.
Her attention was snagged like a skirt on a thorn bush when the man grabbed onto her and her guitar, making the music stutter to a stop with unwelcome hands on her body.
Rage in her body bubbled up and exploded like an active volcano. She was in such a shaking, violent, overwhelming rage that she wasn’t just seeing red, she was seeing black spots in her vision.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Michael watched in awe as her fist flew to his nose, and the man fell back with a spray of blood from his nose. He clutched it in a pitiful yelp, followed by another pained yell as she, this tiny, petite girl roundhouse kicks him in the ball-sack and he fell to the floor.
“Fucking prick!” She spat, and she whipped her head away from the pitiful excuse for a man keening on the ground, practically immobile. She wiped her nose and fixed her clothing, then sighed, trying to keep her heart rate under control.
Michael was amazed. He was smitten. Yes— The Shape, Michael Myers, was smitten, taken aback, and extremely turned on. He didn’t understand why he felt this way over someone so insignificant, and yet he couldn’t turn himself away. The way she didn’t hesitate to temporarily maim him sent a delicious feeling throughout Michael’s body because it was like she was begging to be tamed. This lone wolf, feral and unpredictable, was undeserved to almost every man alive. Every man alive didn’t have the hands strong enough to carry her crown, but Michael does. And he will.
Her eyes were closed, trying to compose herself when an alarm was pulled, and it was blaring in the ears of everyone.
Police had showed up because one of the employees discovered the body of the manager in the back, and Y/n had her suspicions, and she was smart enough to know soon who the man in the pines was— and she knew.
She knew what would become of her and him, all that was due now was time.
i hope u liked ittt 💕💕
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platypanthewriter · 3 years
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The Tanning Rock
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Harringrove April prompt 28, Tanning--Creatures!AU (This one grew to nearly 6k and I’m so sorry) @wasting-time-again​ HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, HAVE A MERMAN!  XD
The lawyer who summoned Billy—about an inheritance, he said—was...weird.  Straight out of a movie, with long incisors and a cravat, and he steepled his fingers as he talked.  
Max said he was probably actually a vampire, and Billy agreed—which was weird, because as far as Billy knew, his mom’s family wasn’t exactly old money, and it was hard to imagine a vampire getting on a plane to fly clear to California and summoning him to a crypt full of file cabinets, all just to read a will about his mom’s collection of surfing stickers and pile of old National Geographics.  
Billy knew his father had disowned him, so he bit his lips together, waiting to hear that his mother had died.
“I am here about the estate of your grandmother,” said the vampire lawyer, and Billy drew a shaky breath of relief.  “Your mother was disowned—” he said, and Billy almost snorted a laugh—like mother, like son, he thought, “—and so her domicile has passed to you.”
“Wait, what,” Billy breathed, wide-eyed.
“It is an unusual case,” said the lawyer—Fangun and Stayk, est. 986, read his card, but Billy wasn’t sure whether he was speaking to Fangun or Stayk, or whether the whole thing was a joke yet, so he kept his mouth shut.  “You will take ownership of the house and land, however, you may not live there—that is, not year-round, not unless you are given an invitation by a resident.  It is a closed community.”
“...can I sell it?” Billy asked, and the deepset eyes of the lawyer stared back at him, bloodshot and dry.
“At well below market value,” he said, steepling his fingers again.  They made a dryish noise.  “As I said, they dislike outsiders.  And a stranger will be even more of an outsider than you, in whom runs...the blood of the place.”
Billy wondered, dully, whether he’d inherited a haunted graveyard, or a den of werewolves, and groaned into his hands.  Maybe he was part zombie somehow.  Just his luck.  “Where is it,” he sighed.
“It is not on commonly available maps,” said the vampire, and Billy nodded.  It figured, he thought, though his ears perked up considerably when his grandmother’s lawyer laid out a map of Hawaii.
 They got a ride from the shore on a fishing boat at four o’clock in the morning.  “It’s barely tourist season yet,” said the fisherwoman, showing Max how to steer.  “There will be a ferry, in a week or two, but I can give you two a ride out the day your visa’s up if the ferry quits sooner.”
“We want enough time to look around,” Max said, glancing at Billy.  They’d let their lease run out, and sold most of their things, because a few orange crates of records were a small price to pay for never running into Neil Hargrove around town.  “You could get a job on one of the normal islands,” Max had suggested, quietly, over and over.  “If they don’t like us enough.”
Billy’d never suggested moving Max so far away, but she’d assumed they were going, and after a while he went along with it.  It wouldn’t be so bad, he thought, getting a job in a hotel somewhere after the islanders threw him out.  Max would probably love it, in Hawaii.  
A fresh start, she had said, and it sounded good.
He and Max were greeted by a woman in a wheelchair, who stamped their passports.  “Technically, we’re a different country,” she said, smiling.  She had very brown skin, and looked contentedly half-asleep in the sun.  “You’re the only visitors on the island, for a week or two,” she said, cocking her head.  “We’re not always in a big hurry to scrub up the ferry for the summer.  We love the money, but the tourists...” she laughed, shaking her head.  “Three-month pleasure trip visa.  Have a nice summer,” she said, waving them away.  
Her benign lack of interest lessened Billy’s initial fears that he’d inherited membership in some rich, yoga-pants-wearing, white Human Superiority cult.  
 The house was traditional-ish, with a grass roof and walls, big open windows with no glass, only shutters, and a wide shaded veranda all the way around.  It looked over a beach with rolling waves, and Billy couldn’t wait to get his board out there.
“I’m gonna look around the house,” Max said.  “See if I can find any neighbors.  Maybe I can bring them cookies.”  She set her jaw, frowning around at their luggage, and the scattered pillows.  “Maybe we can buy some furniture somewhere.”
“...we can always just come here for summers,” Billy told her, breathing it in.  
“Yeah, you’re gonna have a great time getting a tourism job where you don’t work summers,” Max said, raising a sarcastic eyebrow, and Billy realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that she expected him to figure it out.  Find someone who wanted him to stay, here, on the island, at his grandmother’s house.
“I’m no good at making friends, Max,” he reminded her, and she snorted.  
“Better get out of my hair, then.”  She folded her arms, taking another deep breath of the smell of grass in the sun.  After a long moment, she looked back at him again.  “...we’ve got a little over three months, Billy.”
He suspected it sounded longer to her.
 When he wandered down to the beach, Billy could see someone’s tanned shoulders lying across a jutting rock about fifty feet out, and he paddled a ways towards it on his surfboard, getting the lay of the ocean.  There was a rip tide, dark and eerily quiet, to his right, but the rest of the beach had shallow, warm, clear waves over white sand and coral until a dark dropoff about fifty feet out where the rolling waves began.  
As he paddled closer to the rock, he could see the man on it—asleep, Billy thought, just lying in the sun as the waves lapped at his skin.  As Billy drifted closer, paddling with his hands, he could see a long-fingered hand hanging in the water, and he paddled faster, suddenly wondering whether the man wanted to be out on a rock, or whether he was a Dude In Distress, his leg cramped, needing a ride to the beach on Billy’s surfboard and a trip around the boardwalk, and maybe some shaved ice.  
As Billy approached, the guy opened his eyes, frowning over at Billy with wide, half-awake brown eyes.  He pushed himself up on the rock with his arms like the goddamn Little Mermaid, Billy thought, amused. His throat went dry watching the flex of muscle, and the water droplets where the dude had lifted himself out of the bay.  
Billy paddled at random, a little, unable to tear his eyes away.  He cleared his throat.  “Just, uh, making sure you didn’t need any help,” he said, staring at the tanned arms and swimmer’s chest in front of him, nearly triangular, like a superhero.  “I, um.  Guess you’re fine.”
The guy raised his eyebrows, starting to smirk, and then his eyes widened, and Billy realized in a flash of blue and foam that he’d drifted right into the fucking rip tide.  Right in front of the gorgeous dude on the rock, Billy thought in the back of his mind, trying to hold onto his surfboard and let the rip tide take him wherever it would.  Just his luck, he thought, dying because he was so damn gay he saw nice shoulders and his brain switched off.  He hadn’t even gotten a chance to breathe before he got sucked down, and his lungs and sinuses were starting to ache worse than the rest of him, even as he was buffeted around against his board, when an arm slid around his waist.
He wanted to yell at the guy—and he did, in an explosion of bubbles—because what the hell good was it gonna do, swimming into a rip tide, but the muscles against his back and butt flexed, and they were moving sideways out of the rip tide, and then Billy’s head was above water.  He gasped and choked, coughing up half the sea.  The ocean moved soothingly around them, as this dude had no trouble holding Billy up, and Billy tried to clear his throat and eyes.  
“Have you seriously never seen a tail before,” the guy groaned, hauling Billy along like he was no more effort to lift than a little kid at the pool.  Billy felt rock against his thigh, suddenly, and scrambled onto it, coughing and wiping his eyes to see he was on the jutting rock the dude must have jumped off of, to save him.  
“How-how fucking humiliating,” he gasped out loud.  “Can’t believe.  C-can’t believe I fucking p-paddled into a rip tide.”
“You drifted back into the...yeah,” his hot rescuer said, still in the water, with one hand on the rock to hold him steady as he frowned at Billy.  His voice sounded a little odd—Billy was reminded of the Chinese grocery by his house, where their English was perfect, but they had a lilt as they tried to speak an atonal language with a tonal ear.  Up close, he was even prettier, with moles Billy wanted to track down his neck and shoulders, and a doubtful, scrunched-up mouth Billy wanted to kiss.
“Sorry,” Billy wheezed, still coughing.  “Sorry, I’m such a moron, sorry.”  He tried to keep his eyes above the water level, but some part of his brain kept looking for tanned legs kicking under the surface, and he suddenly registered that the moving colors weren’t just fish and anemones.  “Holy shit,” he coughed out.  “You have a tail.”
His rescuer frowned harder, probably worried Billy had brain damage.  “I figured that’s why you swam into the rip tide,” he said slowly, and Billy shook his head, groaning.
“No—fuck, I’m sorry, you—you’re just hot as fuck, I’m just a moron, I’m—damn it,” he sighed.  “Sorry, jesus, I’m so fucking rude, sorry, I just didn’t notice, I was like ‘How the hell did he get me out of there?  OH!’, sorry,” he muttered, sighing.  “...drown me.”
“I am though, right,” the merman said, grinning, “—hotter than you,” and Billy realized he’d found the only person on the island more annoying than he was.  
“Yeah, yeah, just laugh at the poor gay moron who nearly drowned staring at you, that’s nice,” he huffed, lying back against the warm rock to catch his breath.  
“Was it love at first sight?” asked his rescuer, and Billy opened his eyes to glare.  
“Shut up, asshole,” he grunted.  
“Just asking,” his tormenter asked.  “Are you gonna pine away, sighing over me?  Hey, d’you think you’ll always do that?  If I swim over in town, you think you’ll fall off the boardwalk?”
“Fuck you,” Billy told him, leaning his face in his arms and laughing.  “Yeah, probably, you shithead.  Are you gonna...follow me around?  So I can look like more of an idiot?”
“Mmm, can you though…” the gorgeous merman asked thoughtfully, and Billy growled into his arms, feeling his whole body warm.  He blamed it on the sun.  “Why,” his rescuer asked, pulling himself up to laugh against Billy’s ear.  “—you want me to follow you someplace?”
“Oh my god,” Billy groaned, laughing harder.  “Are you afraid to leave me alone now?  What if I try and eat my surfboard?”
“...are you gonna?” 
“Maybe?!” Billy told him, then pushed himself up, frowning around to look for it.
“I’ve got it, it’s right here,” the smug asshole told him, waggling the surfboard in the water.  “Want me to take you back to shore?”
“No!” Billy laughed, sighing.  “I’m going surfing, just because I nearly died making an ass of myself doesn’t mean—”
“Hrm, maybe I should keep an eye on you.” 
“Why,” Billy asked, then pitched his voice just a little lower.  “You like what you see?”
“I could get used to it,” the merman said, and Billy started to preen, but the dickhead finished with “—kind of a comedy special, kind of thing,” and Billy reached over and smacked a big splash of water at him.  
He laughed, his throat arching back, the gills along it thin dark lines that Billy fantasized kissing around.  
Just as Billy was considering grabbing the surfboard and using it as a weapon of blunt force trauma, the merman leaned in close, his smirk widening around pointed teeth, and his cool, salty lips pressed firmly against Billy’s.  Billy made a weird gulping noise in his throat, and the asshole started to pull away, but Billy leaned in, and fell clean off the rock.  His weight dunked them both, and they rose sputtering and laughing, Billy held securely in his merman’s arms as his surfboard floated away.  He couldn’t really bring himself to care.
“...my name’s Billy,” he panted.  
“...Steve,” the mer-dickhead said, raising his eyebrows, like it was weird to want to know his name.  
“...I inherited a house here,” Billy told him in a rush, drunk on kisses.  “I’m from California.  My mom used to talk about this place when I was a kid.  Surfing here.  With her mom.”
“...is she here?” Steve asked, steadying them with one hand on the rock, and glancing back at the beach.
Billy laughed, shaking his head.  “Fuck, sorry, you don’t need to know my shit.  We can make out.  You’re short-circuiting my brain.”
“...I should probably get your surfboard,” Steve told him, grinning, but he leaned his head in again, gentle with his sharp teeth, and Billy inhaled shakily as the points grazed his lips and tongue.  
“Jesus,” he whispered, once he could talk, and then he licked his lips and wrenched himself away to swim after his surfboard, just so his smug rescuer wouldn’t have to fetch it for him.  The waves got bigger as he got out to where the trees weren’t acting as a windbreak, and he clambered up on his board, glaring back as Steve wolf-whistled.
 When he let the tides pull him back towards the gorgeous merman on the rock, he lost his mind again, telling him his tail looked like a peacock butt, and Steve cracked up, grinning at him.
“...so, neighbor, you have to win someone over enough to invite you to stay,” he said, cocking his head.
“Yup,” Billy told him, pointing up at the house he’d inherited, built into the hill, the old grass vacation cottage blending in with the trees.  
“And your method is to tell me I look like bird ass,” Steve continued, and Billy grimaced, waving his hands.
“No!  No, I don’t—I know people have to get to know you.  Here.  I’ll…” he sighed.  “I’ll try for a few months and see what happens.  If nothing...clicks, maybe I’ll try again next summer,” he said, grimacing, and wondering what Max would do, if they weren’t allowed to stay.  Leave, maybe, he thought—she was seventeen, and she could get a job herself.
 He ended up teaching Steve to surf, after showing off his best efforts.  When he swam back, panting, Steve looked properly impressed, and even more tanned.  “Teach me,” he said, and Billy leaned in to kiss him again, nodding.  
“That gonna get you to like me enough to let me stay?” Billy asked, and Steve frowned at him, but Billy laughed, and leaned in for another kiss.
“Tomorrow?” Steve had whispered against his lips, and Billy got no sleep at all that night, he just rolled over every couple hours to check the clock, and see that another two minutes had passed.  
Steve was fascinating to watch on the board, his tail trailing as he controlled it with his hands around either side, his abs flexing as he held himself in a kind of plank pose with the support of his tail.  Billy watched, and realized he was drooling.  
“You like me enough to keep me?” he asked that night, teasing, and Steve laughed.  
“Ask me again tomorrow.”
 Merpeople—or at least, Steve, Billy corrected mentally, realizing he was dealing with a sample size of one—loved bread.  Like a cat, Billy thought, watching Steve eye his croissant, or bagel.  He started just bringing one every morning for Steve, and some coffee, and it was hilarious watching the fluffy flesh of a croissant dangling between Steve’s shark-like teeth.  He waited every morning, and even though Billy wasn’t sure whether Steve was waiting for Billy or the bread he was carrying, he got heart palpitations every time he came down the ramp to the dock, and he could see the little lump of Steve’s head on his folded arms, the rest of him hanging off into the water.
“A few bagels aren’t enough to win me over,” Steve told him, and Billy’s stomach twisted, a little.  He wished he hadn’t brought it up, kind of—the knowledge that he might have to leave hurt, like a sore tooth he couldn’t stop worrying at in his mouth.  “Maybe more croissants,” Steve said, smiling, and Billy brought him more croissants.
 When they’d arrived, they’d discovered the town was filled with mermaid stuff, and at first, Max and Billy had snickered at it, because surely even if there’d been a merperson or two living near a human town once, they’d died decades ago, or they just traded with fishing boats, far out at sea.  They hadn’t considered the amount of people in wheelchairs, or the spray bottles close to hand.
When Billy suggested he bring lunch down from town, Steve swam over to haul himself up—his tail flashing in the light—through the bottom of one of the little sheds on the dock.  Moments later, he banged the door open, wheeling out in an old rusty wheelchair.  He spun it in a circle, waiting for Billy to climb out of the water, and then zipped ahead up the ramp to the path.  
“Wait up, jesus,” Billy yelled after him, and Steve laughed, the muscles in his arms mesmerizing as they spun the wheels.  He slowed down eventually, panting, enough for Billy to jog and catch up.  “...lemme know if you want me to push,” Billy told him, and Steve snorted.  
“Touch my chair and die,” he said.  
“Fair enough,” Billy said, holding his hands up, and Steve laughed.  
“It makes me…” he squinted, thinking.  “...seasick…?” he offered, and Billy nodded, trotting along next to him.  
“Motion-sick, probably,” he suggested, and Steve mouthed it as he rolled along.  
 The lady at the shaved ice stand leaned out and folded her arms on the edge of the little window, laughing at Steve.  “You know they make those that work!” she called, and he flipped her off.  “They don’t have to be electric!  They make ‘em that just move smoothly.”
“It’ll just rust in my shed,” Steve told her, shrugging.  “It’s fine.”  As they waited for their tacos, Steve pulled up to a table, and his rusty, janky wheels kept rolling backwards, until Steve sighed and bent down to stuff some rocks under there.
“My friend Robin and I went in together on a nicer one,” he said, “—but I can’t park it in the shed.  This one’s not so bad,” and Billy’s perception of it shifted a bit—maybe it was more like getting stuck with an old beater car occasionally, instead of something Steve needed help with.  “...want to wander around, after?” Billy asked.  “I haven’t got any souvenirs yet.”
Steve paused, then licked his lips.  “Planning your trip home already?”
“...dunno yet,” Billy said, the invitation unspoken between them.  It seemed ridiculous to want to stay so badly just because he’d met a pair of gorgeously tanned shoulders and a teasing smile, but it also wasn’t...hard to imagine, lingering on the island to go snorkeling with Steve, and learning about the reefs—he’d absorbed enough for a few semesters of marine biology, he was fairly sure, but told as stories, just off-handed things Steve had seen—and Billy was already wanting a drysuit, so he could go in the fall.  Maybe Billy could get a job on a fishing boat, he thought vaguely, or help out in one of the shops.  
If Steve would invite him.
Steve had slid his hands under Billy’s swimsuit a few times, pressing him back on their rock, or on the docks, rocking into him as Billy panted and gasped and fell apart under his hands—but he never said anything, after, and Billy hesitated to ask whether it was...anything, to Steve.  Maybe he picks an idiot every summer, he thought, watching Steve smile at the depictions of mermaids on every surface of every shop on the main street.
“You all spend so much time keeping everything dry and dead,” he said, grinning over at Billy, who’d been anticipating a comment on the mermaid’s hourglass-like proportions, not her lack of water damage.  
“...oh,” he said.  
“I have a figurehead like that, but covered in anemones,” Steve said, cocking his head.  “It’s beautiful.”
“I mean...you could...plant a vine on it, maybe?”
Steve nodded.  “Put it outside in the rain, let it grow.”  The lady behind the counter sighed, rolling her eyes, and Steve laughed.  
“There’s a whole movement to ‘preserve’ our art,” he whispered to Billy.  “Which mostly means they don’t let it become our art.”
“Huh,” Billy said, wondering whether human houses looked like museums, or mausoleums, to merpeople.  
“Not to say that I’d pour water on your television set, or drop your mattress in the bay,” Steve said, grimacing a little, and watching Billy’s face.  “I get that much.”  He looked kind of uncomfortable with the lady behind the counter glaring at him, ducking his head.
Billy leaned to kiss him.  He nearly steadied himself on the chair, and then remembering it would roll, and just held his hands away.  Steve grinned up at him, particularly at his outstretched hands, and yanked Billy down on his not very much of a lap, hurriedly curling his tail up and around Billy’s waist as Billy threatened to slide down the smooth scales to the ground.  Billy threw his arms around Steve’s neck, wide-eyed, as Steve held the wheels firmly, keeping the chair from rolling backwards under the weight of two grown men.  
“Let’s go,” Steve whispered, and Billy nodded, breathing Steve’s sun-and-salt smell, and wondering whether it was okay to ask whether Steve would consider inviting him to stay—just until the next season, Billy thought, as the chair and Steve’s tail moved under him.  Until the next summer, when he could ask whether Steve wanted him to stay again, or whether he wanted Billy gone.
After staying a whole year, Billy thought he might not have it in him to ask whether Steve was tired of him yet, but the thought of waking every morning to run down to the docks with coffee and banana bread was addictive, and he tried not to think about the end.
 Billy ran into the lady who’d stamped his passport, and caught himself staring at her tanned legs propped up on the railing.  “Oh, I’m human,” she said, laughing.  “But I love it here.  I can even shop in the little bookstore, imagine,” she said, and now that Billy thought about it, he realized it had an elevator in the back, and little lifts for the walkways along the higher shelves.  “I’ve never had someone offer to lift me into their cafe, here,” she said, her nose wrinkled, and Billy nodded slowly.  
“Shoot that thing!” she yelled, when she saw Steve’s awful old wheelchair, and he flipped her off.
 “We can only invite a few people,” Steve told him, as they ate noodle bowls.  “It’s for somebody you marry, you know, their family, maybe.  Or if you leave the island, and have a kid.”
“Yeah,” Billy said softly, hearing the message clearly—invitations were not to be wasted, and Billy wasn’t special enough to keep.  He finished his lunch, trying not to feel all butthurt about it.  Max would probably understand.
Steve kissed him again, on the docks, and Billy leaned into it, feeling the familiar pressure of tears in his sinuses, and behind his eyes.  He had three weeks left, he told himself.  Three more weeks.  Steve slid a hand up the back of Billy’s head, humming against his mouth, and Billy let himself go soft in his arms.  
When they returned to the docks, Steve dug a big beach blanket out, and they spread it out on the sand, and Billy stayed out that night, losing himself in Steve’s warm hands and mouth, under stars like he’d never seen before.  
 Steve was watching his face the next morning, with a little frown, and Billy pulled away, sitting up.  
“Better than croissants?” Billy asked, smirking a little, and Steve sighed.  
“Was that what this was?  Fucking me won’t make me give you an invitation,” he said.  He didn’t look amused, the way he had over the bagels, and Billy wondered whether it had worked, a little.  Billy’d always had a talented mouth.
“I won’t know if I don’t try, will I,” he said, laughing.  “Maybe another round will help?”
“...I have to go,” Steve said, and he didn’t even fold up the blanket, just pushed himself off the edge and slid over the wet sand into the water, gone in a flip of tail.  Billy watched for long minutes to see whether he’d come back—they’d been spending every day together, but probably Steve had stuff he needed to do, all the things he’d done before Billy had shown up at the island, easy with his body and his affections.
Billy folded up the blanket, and sat it in the shed, looking around.  There really wasn’t much in there—it was the size of a small bathroom, with some knives for fishing, and a frayed net, and the beat-up wheelchair.  
It smelled like Steve, and Billy stood and breathed, his eyes blurring with tears.
 Steve didn’t come back, and after an hour or so Billy walked home, and ran into Max returning.  “Billy!” she said, with a wide grin.  “Nice night?  I was out getting breakfast.”  She told him about somebody named El, and somebody else named Lucas, and a Dustin.
Max was making friends too, he realized, which kind of made everything worse—she was doing her best, and Billy was just mooning over some guy who thought he was barely good enough for a fuck on the beach.  She’d even met their families, he realized, listening, and registered that he hadn’t met any of Steve’s friends.  He groaned into the pillows tossed around on the mat floor, and sighed.  
“Should I stop seeing him?” he asked, mostly at the ceiling.  
“I dunno why now,” Max said.  “You’re not gonna find somebody else in a couple weeks.”
“Shit,” Billy groaned again.  
“We can try again next summer,” Max said.  “I like it here.”
The idea of returning the next summer, once Steve was bored, was enough to make Billy clench his jaw tight against the pillow he was hugging, squeezing his eyes shut against tears.  “...yeah,” he said softly.
“God, you sound tragic,” she sighed, wandering over and dropping to sit on his butt.  He grunted.  “It’s fine, jesus.  Worst case scenario we have a, like, vacation home.  The vampire dude said we didn’t have to pay taxes on it.”
“Yeah, just pay for plane fare,” Billy sighed.
“He’s out there, y’know,” she said, “—tanning,” and Billy scrambled up so fast he dumped her with a drum noise on the taut mats.  
 When he swam out, Steve just stared out to sea, and Billy clung to the edge of the rock, biting his lips.
“I’m not giving you one of my invitations,” Steve said.  “So stop trying to manipulate me into it.”
“Yeah,” Billy said, kind of wishing they’d never met.  “Yeah, okay.  Do—is that all, or are you sticking around?”
“I’ll stay,” Steve said, frowning at him, “—if you still wanna waste your time on somebody who’s not—how do you say it?  Putting out?”
“...it’s not a waste of time,” Billy told him, swallowing hard.  “I just wanted it to last longer, is all—” and Steve’s eyes narrowed intently.  He grabbed Billy around the back of the neck, and yanked him into a kiss.  
 The remaining weeks, he took Billy snorkeling, and they had sex every night under the stars, Billy panting Steve’s name, and Steve holding him so tightly it almost hurt.  Billy took him to meet Max, and she eyed him warily, but Billy fought and succeeded at securing Steve a plate of brownies, and he was vocally appreciative.  She softened a little, at that.
 Two days before they had to leave, Steve was lying next to Billy on the wet sand, the waves lapping up nearly to their waists.  His shoulder was warm under Billy’s head, and smelled like the high ocean waves.  
“...d’you think you’ll come back next summer,” Steve asked, and Billy snorted.
“Depends on whether I can afford airfare,” he said, sighing.  “Depends on whether I can get a job somewhere that doesn’t need me in the summer.”
“...so I might just never see you again?” Steve asked flatly, and Billy laughed, shrugging.  
“I don’t know,” he said, “—do you want to?”
“...fuck you,” Steve sighed, and Billy pushed himself up to frown at Steve’s face.  
“I don’t know what you want,” he said, glaring back at Steve’s narrowed brown eyes.  “You wanted me to shut up about staying.  What am I supposed to say?”
Steve bit his lips together, and looked away.  “...you know I’m gonna give you an invitation.  You can just tell me.”
“What,” Billy whispered, scrambling to sit up, his heart pounding as Steve flopped over to scrabble around under his wheelchair, his tail flapping around a little in concentration, like a cat’s.  He held an envelope out to Billy without even looking over.
“There,” he said.  “All yours.”
“What,” Billy breathed, and then he half-crumpled it, opening it clumsily.  “You—you’re giving me one?”
“Two,” Steve said, flatly, frowning down at the sand under his hands.  “You and Max, right?”
“Holy shit,” Billy whispered, scrambling over to kiss him, once, then twice, relishing the little noise Steve made in the back of his throat when his lip slid between Billy’s teeth.  “I have to go tell her,” he said, half laughing, his vision blurring with tears.  
“Okay,” Steve said, quietly, and Billy hugged him before scrambling up and running back to the house.  
 Max stared at the two calligraphed invitations on the odd plasticky “paper” the merfolk used, written in Sharpie, and shook her head slowly.  “You did it,” she said, and Billy laughed, nodding.  
“He wanted me to stay enough,” he said, wiping his eyes, and desperately wanting Max to offer to handle the paperwork, so he could run back and kiss Steve.
There was a knock on the door.  Max ran and opened it, and a short-haired woman wheeled in in a rainbow overall dress, and a small, fancy electric wheelchair, her tail the reds and oranges of a sunset.  Billy never quite stopped being envious of how pretty the merpeople were.
“Steve gave you his invites, didn’t he,” she said, and Max slid them around her back, her eyes narrowing.
“...yeah,” Billy said, warily.
“Give them back to him,” she ordered, glaring between them.  “He’s been saving those a long-ass time.  He’s got plans for those, and he doesn’t need guilt-tripping by a pair of manipulative orphans, jesus.”
“I didn’t guilt-trip him,” Billy said, feeling guilty, suddenly, and remembering Steve’s stiffness as he handed them over.  “I didn’t,” he said, less certainly.  “...he...he just likes me, he wants me to stay—”
“He’s known you three months, and you told him you fucked him to get someplace nice for your sister to live,” she said crisply.  “Give them back.”
“He’s not giving them back,” Max hissed, but she was staring at Billy in horror.
“I didn’t say that,” Billy said, waving his hands.  “I didn’t!  Not...exactly.”
“Fuck you,” the woman said, glaring.  “You pressured him.”
“Fuck,” Billy agreed, his eyes tearing up again.  “Lemme—lemme go talk to him.  Max, give—give ‘em here.”
“No,” she said, sounding choked, but he walked over and grabbed them, and hugged her.  
“We’ll figure it out,” he said under his breath, for her ears only, and ran back out.
 Steve was perched up on his rock again, and Billy grabbed his surfboard and sat on it to glide out, paddling with his hands.  The water was clear under him, his shadow passing over the anemones on the reef, and he watched the fish darting around, swallowing repeatedly.  
“Hey,” he said, when he got close enough, and Steve’s head jerked around, glowering warily.
“...you came back,” he said.
“...you want me to stay, right,” Billy said, cutting straight to the chase.  “You gave me these because you want me to stay.”  Steve frowned back at him, and Billy’s heart sank.  “Answer,” he said, his throat closing around the word.
“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it,” Steve said, reaching out, but he just grabbed Billy’s board before he could drift into the rip tide again.  “You wanted to stay.”  He was tense, and he wouldn’t meet Billy’s eyes.
“What do you want,” Billy asked again.  “...because I think your friend Robin’s in my house, and she says I guilted you into it, talking about Max.  Do you...if I didn’t need an invite.  Would you want me to stay?”
“...I guess,” Steve sighed, and Billy swung his leg over the board, dumping himself straight down in the water, because he was definitely about to make some kind of awful noise, and the sea felt good on his hot, wet cheeks.  Steve couldn’t see him crying underwater, he thought, grabbing a jut of rock to keep himself from floating back up.  
He wished he could take a few slow breaths, he thought, closing his eyes, and then something brushed his arm.  He opened his eyes on Steve’s wide-eyed face, his hair swirling in the water.  Billy bit his lips together harder, his hands clenching on the rock, and Steve shook his head, pointing up. 
“Up,” he mouthed.  “Come on.”
Billy let himself be hauled upwards, and pushed up on the rock again, like when they’d first met.  
“What are you doing,” Steve asked, hanging on to Billy’s surfboard.
“Nothing,” Billy said, keeping his voice level.  “I thought you wanted me to stay.  For me.  You can have your invites back.  I didn’t—” he took a deep breath, hearing Steve’s voice say stop trying to manipulate me, and Robin’s guilt-tripping.  “I fucking know I’m pathetic, okay, you don’t have to pity me.  Sorry I—sorry I fucking tried, jesus, I just—” he shut his eyes tightly again, laughing as he imagined Robin’s disgusted look knowing Billy’d gone out and cried.
“Wait, fuck,” Steve whispered, clambering up next to him, where Billy barely fit by himself, since it was high tide.  He was warm from the sun, his tanned skin gleaming with water droplets, and Billy salivated, because his dick obviously hadn’t gotten the message it wasn’t wanted.  “Wait,” Steve said, half on top of him, his weight grating Billy’s shoulder blades against the rock.  Billy didn’t really mind.  “You only want to stay if—if I want you, what—what does that mean—”  His brown eyes were huge.
“...don’t really know how to be clearer,” Billy told him, unable to pull his eyes from Steve’s mouth.
“You don’t want to stay unless I’m happy about it,” Steve said, grabbing Billy’s hands.
“Yeah, that’s kinda how it gets, when you fall for somebody,” Billy told him, raising his eyebrows, and Steve took a shuddery breath and kissed him again.  He didn’t stop, though, he just kissed Billy and kissed him, laughing shakily, his eyes welling up with tears.  
“Don’t go,” he whispered, as Billy clung to him and the rock, trying to keep them from tumbling off.  “I want you here, I want you.  Stay with me.”
“I’m what you want?” Billy asked, startled, his brain hazy from warm kisses, and the scrape of pointed teeth.  “‘M yours then,” he whispered.  “All—all of me.  S’yours.”
They laid there so long, whispering and giggling, that Billy had tan lines of Steve’s fingers on his shoulder for months.
Here are the other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done!
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