#anyway it's so hard to find stuff that can fit my thighs ugh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

curly-bangtan · 4 years

Text

Heatwave Anniversary Drabble: i miss u like ... a lot (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! but this drabble can be read alone

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: One night until Taehyung is back from his boys’ trip but you miss him too much.

Genre: fluff, smut, kinda crack?, boyfriend/established relationship au

Warnings: unprotected sex (oc on contraception so don’t u do it), teasing over the phone, riding and grinding, just kinda vanilla i-missed-u-so-much sex, a particular selca

Word count: 5k

A/N: It was Heatwave’s one year anniversay on the 17th so I decided to write a quick(?) drabble for this. I fully intended on posting this on time, but wanted to change up some stuff so only managed to finish this now. Happy birthday to my first fic and forver my baby!

MOSTLY UNEDITED

The absolute one thing you hate most about your boyfriend being away from you is your boyfriend being away from you.

You have never been the clingy needy type, that is more his role in this relationship, nor are you really one to show affection. In fact, you would hate for that false image to be perceived of you because all that sappy shit makes you want to throw up your dinner. But one thing you’ve learnt since Taehyung had gone away on a week-long boys’ trip down by the coast is how cold the house feels in his absence, despite being in the middle of a sizzling summer.

Everything is so eerily quiet without his random outbursts into song and fits of laughter. Having spent 3 years living together, you have gotten so used to his constant presence that you had even caught yourself several times calling out for him only to remember that he isn’t here. Waking up without his arm draped around your waist, slided up your top at some point during the night, impacts you more than you’d like to admit.

Are you glad that he’s having a great time with his friends by the beach, relaxing all day and drinking all night? Of course. Are you having a great time all by yourself over here in the absence of your boyfriend? Certainly not.

Though, of course, this isn’t something you would confess to out loud, especially to him. He doesn’t need to know how often the thought: ugh fuck, I miss Tete is crossing your mind, lest you want him to rub his smugness in your face.

It isn’t just that. Your relationship hasn’t been without its tests in the course of its years and things have only finally stabilised. It’s not that you don’t trust Taehyung to be with his ladish friends for seven days, shirtless dusk till dawn, intoxicated to the point where he calls you thinking that you’re the pizza delivery guy but…

A hammered Taehyung at a beach full of girls who are no doubt thirsting over him leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You trust him to be loyal to his core, but you don’t trust anyone else to keep their hands from copping a feel. No matter how you look at it, you would just so much rather he be at home with you right now.

You have endured this for six days. Six full days without Taehyung. Six full days with no sex, no tummy kisses, no clammy hand holding even though you’re only to get groceries. Just one more night and this torture will fucking be over, praise the lord. But you also don’t know how much more you can hold back that I miss you text because you’re combusting from the need to see him again.

It’s almost 4am. Your sleep schedule is fucked and it’s really his fault.

The bright screen of your phone offers the only luminescence at this hour. Your messages from him in the past week have not been shy of your daily dose of Taehyung - clips of the beach (always mischievously caption with something along the lines of “thinking of Mykonos ;D” where you went on your first holiday together), selfies that you dwell way too long staring at because you miss that face buried in your neck, drunk videos of the antics him and the boys get up to that you’ll definitely chastise him for when he comes back yet can’t help but laugh at. You find yourself scrolling through them every single night.

Your personal favourite: a pouty selfie he sent you after he dropped his ice cream, the picture you always go back to and the one you’re staring at right now. His hair is frizzy from the sea, lips jutted out childishly and cheeks puffy. Your chest constricts, fuck...

Just one more night, you remind yourself. And then he’s back and all yours again.

Then suddenly, the phone in your hand vibrates, short and abrupt. The bar slides down from the top of your screen reading New Message from Tete. Surprised, you scramble to open it, maybe a bit too desperately for you to be proud of.

04:11

Tete: bby

You blink at those three letters, lips pressed together because your heart is cinching.

Tete: ur prob aslep rn but

Tete: i missu

Tete: <334

The typos indicate that he is wasted, and you take a guess that he has just returned from their last night out of the holiday. The corners of your lips turn up knowing that he is thinking of you right now.

You: no im awake

Your fingers are itching to reply with i miss u too, and it takes all your willpower and stubbornness to stay true to your steadfast self. There is just something so unpleasantly moist about these kinds of texts, something that makes you cringe and gag when you read them. You refuse to be one of those people. A heart is all that you allow yourself to reply.

You: <3

You: r u drunk?

Tete: drunk in love

Tete: yes

A giggle escapes you at his god awful cheesiness - drunk, sober alike. Insufferable. But probably Taehyung’s most endearing quality.

You: did u have fun!!

Tete: yeah

Tete: but i miss u

Tete: more than i had fun

God, you feel like a teenager again, suddenly overcome with this gushing urge to roll over and scream into your pillow. You’re glad he’s merely texting this to you right now because if he had said this to you face to face, your skin would most definitely stain scarlet from neck to hairline, scalding to the touch. Even months into officially being his girlfriend, these curveballs of overwhelming affection throw you off guard.

Again, the compulsion to tell him you miss him too yanks at your heartstrings. You truly don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say how you feel, let yourself be soft and vulnerable. You know it’s one of your flaws so it’s something that you’re working on, but you can’t say you’ve made much progress.

But just as you decide that maybe you should take the plunge, suck it up and just text him those three words, he sends you a picture.

Tete:

No, not just a picture. A selfie, of him in bed, shirtless under the covers. “Oh, fuck…”

Hand clasped over your mouth to prevent any sound from involuntarily escaping, it takes a moment for your breath to return to you and for you to stop gawking. At this hour… Really? Is he seriously doing this to you right now?

His sleepy eyes. His messy curls. And his fucking nose mole.

The undoing of your existence.

Tete: this boy misses u :]

You: bruh

You: bruhhhhhhh

You: taehyung

Tete: oui my lady :))

You: 👁👄👁

You: can u not do this to my heart

You: y did u send me this </333

You: what was the reason

Tete: coz i miss u

Tete: do u like it

Tete: :D

‘Do u like it’... Actually, you have tears in your eyes, albeit mostly due to staring at a screen for too long so late at night, but it’s certainly contributed by this selfie. You tell yourself you’re acting out because it’s been six days since you last saw him. Perhaps Taehyung Withdrawal Symptoms is the explanation behind why you want to print and frame this picture because that is definitely not a normal reaction to a picture. But this is a masterpiece.

You: taehyung my soul left my body

You: like i could weep

You: u look so soft and fluffy

You: :’(

Tete: lollll

Tete: simp

This boy has some nerve?! Simp! He called you a simp?! Laughing like a maniac, you can’t even pretend to be mad at him, not after this picture he sent anyway. So you guess you are a simp. This selfie is your kryptonite.

Tete: jkjkkkkk

You: hahahaha

You: y r u doing this to me

You: its 4am

You: u can’t send me this rn

You: i won’t be able to sleep

Tete: o yeah how come ur still up?

Tete: go to sleepppp

You: can’t sleep

Tete: aw no whyyy

Because you miss him that’s why.

You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss Tete. You miss your boyfriend, your best friend, your other half. You miss his touch, his smile, his wide eyes when he’s confused. You miss his morning snuggles and late night kisses. You miss the way he hugs you from behind as you prepare your meals. You miss the wandering hands that he can’t help when you’re out in public. You miss playing PUBG together until the sun comes out then both sleeping past noon. You miss taking baths together where bubbles would get into your mouth as your kisses get heated.

You just miss him.

It’s only been six days and you’re in this state. What has he done to you?

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you let out a great sigh and deflate. No other reason offers itself for you to be awake at this hour; he knows you cherish sleep above anything. Teeth digging into your lip, you inhale long and hard, then exhale the gust of your cowardice. It’s not that deep, stupid. Fuck it.

You: coz

You: i miss u

You: like … a lot

You: 🙄

It’s final - you guess you’ve become a mushy wet sap. Truly it is embarrassing how big of a step this is for you; but the sense of pride and accomplishment feels oddly validating. Baby steps. The eye-rolling emoji right after is subconscious because you could only betray the core of your character that much. Forgo it and taehyung might not believe that it’s you.

Tete: omg

Tete: :D

Tete: rrly?

You: *blank kissy emoji*

Tete: wow

Tete: u actually don’t know how hard i’m smiling rn

You: simp

Tete: ofc that’s my middle name

Tete: i miss u a lot too

Tete: like a lotttttt

Tete: i’ll show u how much when i’m back

Ah… Of course, the Taehyung specialty - smothering you with his affection. You freeze at the thought of his wildfire kisses and head between your thighs. Nothing screams of how much you’ve missed each other more than a good dicking down, climax after climax until you’re both panting messes of sweat and entangled limbs. The anticipation makes you squirm under the sheets, legs pressing together.

You: pls do

You: i need u

It’s uncertain what spirit has possessed you at this ungodly hour for these words to come out of you. There’s an instant flash of ickiness, but you let the self-cringing simmer and dissipate into the realisation that this is okay, this is normal. Taehyung’s your boyfriend, couples text like this. You need to grow some.

Tete: fuck baby

Tete: i’m so not used to u texting like this, it's driving me crazy

You: crazy how *cat smirk*

If you weren’t smiling before, you’re definitely grinning like an idiot now. His reaction is predictable, yet oddly still, an incredible wave of satisfaction hits you. And because you want to savour this moment, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, you send him a picture of yourself.

Camisole strap slid off your shoulder, hair splayed out, bottom lip deep red from biting down on it too much. Just to return the favour.

Tete: y/n

Tete: call me now

-Incoming call from Tete-

Laughing to yourself, you wait a good few seconds before picking up to prolong his torture. “Yes, Taehyung?” You put your thumb between your teeth to suppress the laughter.

“Fuck.” Against the silence of the night, the low rasp of his voice permeating into you from the speaker of your phone sends tingles up your toes. You’ve fucking missed his voice more than you thought. “Y/N… You can’t do this to me.”

“I told you, I miss you. Like… a lot.” The saccharine tone in your reply is foreign to your own ears, but you like the sound of it and the deep rumble it elicits from your boyfriend.

“How much?” Taehyung eggs you on. His words are barely slurred, so you gather that he has sobered up at least for the most part by now. Yet there is still a slowness to it that suggests

“Hmm, like… I touched myself every night at the thought of you a lot.”

A sharp inhale. Then silence. But you know better so you give him a moment to gather himself.

“You shouldn’t be putting that image in my head.” Exasperation is evident in his voice, desperate and yearning. You can imagine him now, one hand on his phone, the other sliding over his pants that are getting a bit too tight for comfort. Your breath hitches.

“Then you shouldn’t have sent me that picture, Taehyung…”

“You said it was soft and fluffy. What you sent me back was not soft and fluffy.”

“Just because it’s soft doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on. You do things to me… okay?” Heat trapped beneath the skin of your cheeks, your grip on the phone against your ear slackening as your thighs rub together.

“Fuck, I’m getting hard, baby…” Nothing gets him going more than the knowledge that he turns you on, it’s his weakness but somewhat his strength.

“That’s… unfortunate. Are you going to do something about it?”

His gulp is audible even over the phone. “Uh…” A sigh. “Um. Maybe. Thoughts are being thought.”

“What kind of thoughts? Thoughts about me touching myself and moaning your name? Thoughts about how much I wish my fingers were your cock thrusting so deep into me that I feel it in my guts? Or are you thinking about what you’ll do to me when you’re back tomorrow? Fucking my mouth until I’m crying or filling me up with your cum first?” Your hips buckle at the filth leaving your mouth. This is more like you; you haven’t abandoned your nature after all.

“Oh, fuckkkk.” His moan resonates into your skull, not quite as if he’s here with you but good enough to fill your desire. “Y/N… I need you so badly.” Breath ragged, you hear movement of his sheets in the background as he adjusts into a more comfortable position.

“Are you stroking your cock right now?” A warm slick oozes out of your own entrance. There’s something about Taehyung masturbating to you that elevates you to a different kind of high.

“What do you think, baby?” As you listen closely, you hear the slow rhythm of his pumping, and your fingers ache to pleasure yourself. ‘The things I’ll fucking do to you when I’m back.”

“Mmm, but it’s late, Taehyung, why don’t we go to sleep.”

“Wait, what?” The stroking stops instantly and surprise in his voice releases a smug satisfaction into your veins. The equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over his head right now. Teasing is an old undying habit, what can you say? “You wanna end the call now?”

“Yeah, we should sleep, babe.” Grin unsuppressed, you turn over onto your side, probably a bit too pleased with yourself at your success. Taehyung is an easy victim always.

“What the fuckkk?” Your boyfriend groans. “You’re seriously going to tease me this hard then leave me high and dry?” When you offer no more response than a sly chuckle, he add, “You’re so evil.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Taehyung. Think about it, we’re one sleep away from seeing each other again.”

“Fuck, I know. But you just got me so fucking horny, bruhhh. I thought we were gonna have phone sex.” You are still laughing at his whining, basking in the victory you’re holding over him.

“Taehyung, save it for the real sex.” The idea of phone sex crossed your mind several times to be honest, but you really want to collect every single drop of desire and longing and unleash it tomorrow. Raw and pent up. Nothing to dampen the fire.

A sigh of defeat down the line. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You know. “How am I supposed to sleep now though? I’m so rock hard that it hurts.”

“You can figure that out yourself, big guy.” Your cheeks ache from smiling for too long; they often do during calls with him. “One sleep away, okay?”

“Ugh, fine, you demon. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He lets out another sigh. Your heart skips at the anticipation of how he will punish you for this. “Good night, I miss you.”

“Good night, I miss you more.” There’s a sudden change of tone with these words. Because you truly mean it. Sex and physical intimacy aside, you really just missed his voice, his banter.

You fall asleep almost immediately.

You don’t think you’ve heard a sweeter sound than the keys rattling at the door the next day. Practically leaping off the couch where you had been awaiting him in your Taeyhyung-less boredom, you run to the door.

As it swings open, heat courses to your chest when your eyes land on his, so full of comfort. Your boyfriend is home. Handsome as ever, much more tanned than your memory of him and much more attractive. White t-shirt and loose black shorts, a mundane outfit that only he could make look exceptional.

And as much as you want to sprint up and throw yourself onto him, your feet stay planted on the floor.

“Hey.” You barely breathe out.

Stay calm and composed, you tell yourself. It was only one week without him, it’s not like he’s returning from war.

But Taehyung doesn’t even reply, because in two long strides he is standing before you, bags tossed to the side, a sign of their insignificance in the presence of you. His arms find their home circled around you, face buried in your hair before you can utter another word. You don’t hesitate to return his embrace, holding his waist as you let yourself fall into his chest. He smells like what summer should, the ocean, sweat and young love; his familiar musk greeting you as if he never left.

Your lips meet his, strong and full of intent. He’s so unexpectedly soft when he kisses back, a timeless romantic dance like he is saviour your taste on his tongue.

With your weight leaning on him, he slowly topples back, stepping hastily until your bodies land on the couch. You fit your legs on either side of him as you burrow your nose in his neck and breathe him in, memorise him. In nothing but a large shirt, your bare thighs are exposed for his roaming.

When you pull away and face each other, you are struck by his beauty. His skin is sun-kissed and glowing, hair an effortlessly beautiful mess, the slightest hint of a stubble peeking through below his nose. Your heart belongs to him forever, you know it without a doubt.

“You smell so good. I missed you so much, baby.” And his voice… That deep baritone honey that you have taken for granted all this time - music to your ears.

“Imissedyoutoo…” You mumble, shy under his undivided attention and mercilessly unbroken eye contact.

With your chests pressed together, his chuckle rumbles into you. “What was that?”

“I missed you too… I guess.” Face flaming, you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at your admittance, fingers twirling around his curls to preoccupy yourself.

But he cups your chin and turns your face to him, forehead pressing up to yours until your noses are touching, breaths mixing. “That’s not what you said last night.” Taehyung smirks, hands sliding down to your waist, the material of your shirt bunching up in his hands. “Do I need to remind you?”

“No…” You find yourself unable to keep your eyes open, your core pulsing mercilessly as you grind onto him. “How are you already hard, Taehyung…” And though you mean to scold him, it comes out breathless.

Lips hovering, he traces the edge of your jaw, tingling the sensitive little hairs on its way to your ear. When he reaches the shell of your ear, warm breath infiltrating so relentlessly into you, you almost lose yourself right there on his lap. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” He whispers.

“Show me.” Is all you make out.

His hands are already beneath your shirt before you even notice, palms kneading into your breasts as he takes your nipples between his two fingers and rolls. As he kisses you again, the same tenderness exchanges between your lips. It’s a different kind of desperation to be so slow and gentle, one that means so much more than sex, one that’s telling of how much you truly missed each other. Your hips roll with a mind of their own over him. One hand of his comes down to your ass, guiding the waves of your rocking. And each time his stiff clothed member digs into your clit, you whimper into his mouth.

Carefully, Taehyung rolls you over onto your back, sucking your bottom lip to keep the seal from breaking. He pulls away when he’s on top of you, and a string of glistening saliva bridges between your mouths. “Foreplay or no? Tell me what you want?” Compliant as ever.

“I need you to fill me up right now. Anything else can wait.” You watch the devotion ignite in his eyes. His fingers are in a hurry as they pull your panties off, knees spreading your legs open as he kneels between your gaping entrance. He tugs his shirt off from the collar, such smoothness in his action that your insides coil up. His newly-bronzed rich skin revealed, you can’t help but reach up and run your hands down from chest to navel, revelling in his blemishless ridges.

A low sound reverberates from the back of Taehyung’s throat as your touch travels down to unbutton his shorts. They fall loose. His hard throbbing members springs free, a glistening bead oozing from his slit. “You didn’t wear boxers?”

When you glance up, you notice his sheepish grin. He presses his mouth onto yours, still smiling, guiding you back onto your back. “I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since last night… Ah, fuck.” Another deep groan erupts from him as you reach down and slather that bead of precum all over his tip. His head falls onto your neck, writhing under your merciless stroking.

His tip brushing against your clit, your toes curls at the teasing of your weakness, hips jolting up involuntarily and perhaps a bit too violently. You’re so embarrassingly sensitive after this many days without Taehyung, and he notices from your breathless reaction. Smirking, he takes his shaft in his hand and runs his stiff head over your clit mercilessly. And as you roll your head back helplessly, he nibbles onto your exposed neck, faint stubble grazing your skin.

“Quit the teasing…” You whine, unable to withstand the build up of twisting pressure begging to be fulfilled between your legs. “Just put-”

Taehyung pushes himself into you so abruptly that you yelp. And there it is, that mind-melting stretch of your walls that you’ve so much missed. “Fuck, Taehyung…” Your entire core feels ablaze, so numbing that your nails dig into the leather of the couch before they find grip on his arms.

“Like that, baby?” His voice his strained, as if he’s struggling not to lose his mind as well.

Nodding because you can’t make out a word as he slowly pulls out, you grab his face and pull him up to meet your lips. You whimper into him mouth when he rams into you again, hitting your walls in full force, no mercy. His kiss doesn’t lose its sincerity despite the juxtaposition of his vigorous thrusts, though you can’t say that he is quite as gentle with as before. You pinch his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it as your fingers get lost in his hair.

After seven days of deprevation of his cock, your cunt is leaking with the fluid of your arousal, aiding in the ease of each plunge. You feel the stiffness of his ridges pulling you open as he slides in and out of you. “Fuck…” He pants, mouth hovering over yours.

“Let me get on top.” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your suggestion, instantly rolling onto his back. He slips out during the switch of position and the wetness of your cunt is assailed by a sudden rush of cool air.

You swing your leg over and mount him, watching him watch you pump his dick, your own liquid slathered over him sticky in your hand. Letting his member fall against his abdomen, you grind over him between your folds, hands splayed out over his chest. The friction created each time your clit would slide over the thin pinch of skin where his tip unfolded into his shaft has Taehyung a groaning mess.

He looks remarkable under you.

You push his sweat-dampened curls out of his forehead, eyes half closed in euphoria, half watching you roll your cunt so lewdly over his length. You know you could make him cum like this if you continue. But you want him to cum inside you first, you want to feel that thick hot spurt of his desire shoot again and again into you until his cock is twitching.

So slowly, lubricated by your wetness, you sink inch by inch down until the skin of your ass meets his thighs. This angle fuck with your mind; you think you feel him at your cervix. Then your hips start to do what they know best, pounding over him with a rhythm that you’re proud of.

Taehyung grabs hold of your waist, your breasts, fury in his eyes as he watches you ride him with such determination. “I love you so much.” He heaves between heavy breaths.

“I love you, I missed you more than you could imagine.” You huff, thumb running over his red swollen lips.

“I love when you admit it.” He sits up and takes the swell of your breast in his mouth, making his way to your nipples where his tongue relentlessly flickers over.

Your thighs are starting to burn, core aching because his cock is thrusting up into you so deep that you feel it in your guts. The signs are appearing - your vision is going hazy, walls squeezing tightly around him, tangle upon tangles knoting in your stomach. His are too - his head is slumped against your chest, arms crossed behind your back as he holds you close to him, whole body starting to tense as he begins to curse.

Pace quickening, you don’t let the tire of your muscles stop you from your chase. The slap of your skins ringing in your ears, you keep riding, cunt swallowing his cock whole each bounce. Taehyung breaks first. “Fuck!” He calls out into your neck. His cum squirts into you, pulse after pulse, your boyfriend’s hips jolting each thrust.

“I’m so close, babe, keep going for me.” You plead, knowing how sensitive he is right after his climax. He nods wordlessly, face still buried in you hair. The lubrication of his cum abolishes any resistance, letting you slide over him easier than sitting down. And not five thrusts later, your own coil snaps. You through your head back at the wave of pleasure that drowns you, your entire core on fire as your moans echo through the room. It takes maybe twenty seconds for your walls to stop throbbing and for the orgasm to slowly die down.

Taehyung is already growing limp inside you after his orgasm. “Thank you.” You whisper against his forehead while you dismount. His cum flows out of your slit and down the insides of your thighs, but he refuses to let go of you.

When he looks up, you are struck by an overwhelming sensationf of adoration. His long dark curls fall slightly over his eyes, in disarray but just the way you like it. His eyes are so full of genuine love and gratitude of having you that you can’t help but capture him with your lips. “No, thank you.” He mumbles against you, falling back onto the couch with you in his embrace.

After a long kiss of after-sex affection, you pull away before it leads to a second round. “I want you to know that I really missed you a lot. I can’t even call you a big baby anymore because I stared at all the pictures you sent me every night till the sun came out.”

Taehyung’s boyish smile melts your heart. You’ve missed him way too much. His smile, his goofy comments, his tender kisses. “My heart… is squeezing…” If his smile doesn’t tell how smitten he is, his eyes definitely do. “I missed you so much too. All the boys made fun of me for being such a wettie ‘coz I couldn’t shut up about you.” The thought is so endearing that you can’t help but hide your face.

“So how was your trip? Plenty of hot girls drooling after you?” Trick question of course, you know that for a fact already.

“Haha, it was good, fun. Bet you couldn’t sleep ‘coz you were trembling from jealousy.” Scoffing you land a smack on his chest. “But nah, no hot girls. Nowadays there’s only one hot girl in my eyes.”

Your own lips spread like a cheshire cat. “Shut up, cutie.”

“Rachel McAdams.”

“Let go of me. Don’t even touch me.”

A/N: Moral of the story, never sit on their couch if you’re a guest at the Heatwave house.

24/08/20

@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @shimtatae @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @yes-another-wannabe-hipster-blog @deliciouslydisturbed365 @getmemyfries @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @angelswrld @expensive-bangtan-girl @icyi-sky @gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @monixreal @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams @camilaxpolanco @d-noona @haechanspudu @dawnispeace @vante-visuals @liquanzhe222 @bangtanloverrrrr @bs14401 @seokjoontae @comingjimin @jeonsshadow @honeyspillings @taeshotteok @embrace-themagic @wataemelonz @ftvante @kth-jae @sintatae @lunarnovaa @reputae @imajinative @haosmull8 @sssaltyasian @brilliantlybasicb @devilsadvocater @ladyartemesia @btsglitter @besosalvolar @jayparkjustchokeme @johnnyseotolemyheart @bubblegumyuss @octo-donut @ftvante @gia-the-mermaid @miss-peys @fantasticallyabnormal @purplestar00paintblotch @taetaeismybaebae @jooachu @bringitseijoh @bboyseventeenn @lpayne612 @misohime @petuliii @slutdropjin @kyelamarie

1K notes · View notes

jktummies · 3 years

Text

Party fun:

“Hnng tae that’s too tight!”

She simply hummed at her boyfriends whining as she fastened the button on his pants.

“Would’ve fit better if you didn’t decide to stuff yourself this whole week. I swear babe you get fatter with each day.”

Taehyung smirked as she grabbed his fat stomach that stuck to far out and dropped it causing the seams of his shirt to scream.

“TAE!”

She giggled as jin wore a worried expression fat hands trying to stop his jiggling mass “oh come on babe we both know you’re gonna pop those buttons by the end of the night.”

Immediately a blush crept up jins neck. His girlfriend was probably right but tonight was important he couldn’t let himself pig out.

Today was his new jobs commencement party. He couldn’t blow this; he was lucky enough to find a job after graduation and even more lucky for it being a well recognized company. Secondly most corporate companies would look at his weight and immediately decline but this one saw past jins massive frame and focused on his work.

So for tonight he had to be under control

Jin grunted going to sit down; bed immediately creaking and molding itself to his gigantic ass.“Not tonight babe, I can’t blow this.”

He watched as tae slipped of her shorts and tank to start putting on the dress that fuck- really hugged her body. Jin could just imagine what they’re gonna say when they find out someone like her is with well him.

That got him excited and he knew tae loved it as well.

“Sweetheart zip me up.”

Groaning he began to rock back and forth in order to get up. He seemed to able to lift his feet on the fourth try, waddling towards tae.

It was such a huge turn on to see how stomach touched her back before even his hands could. His fat fingers trying to reach for that little zipper was comical.

After ten mintues of tae grabbing jins fat ass and another ten of tae having a blast watching Jin trying to tie his shoes before taking pity on the fat man they left for the party.

—————-

Jin noticed the eyes immediately. He was used to the stares he got already at the office but with tae by his side it was intensified.

The way she had her arm interlocked with his while the other rested on his big tummy. God he can see how they whisper about them. His dick is for sure twitching

Not to brag but Jin had been stuffing himself every day after work. Tae was still studying at college and so she often was to tired to cook something and Jin came home late now with his new job so cooking had been neglected.

For the past few days takeout and dramas have been the couple time they’ve been getting and that usually ended with Taehyung on his lap stuffing everything into him as he burped and farted to make more room.

so needles to say but the suit may be a lot more tighter than when he got it last Saturday. Not to mention these pants are squeezing the life out his his thighs and ass right now.

Still he’s greeted none the less by his superiors and he doesn’t know how to feel when their eyes seem to wander straight to tae.

She smiles and bows but her hand never stop rubbing and patting his stomach.

It’s not until the night goes on and he’s had a few glasses of champagne where he begins to feel an irk as more moments like these occur.

He knows tae is hot and he knows that ever since he’s packed on the pounds most people question “why him?”

But tae always tells them off making his heart beat even faster than when he first met her.

Still jin feels scared at moments. That one day tae is gonna wake up and see him as a fat freak and leave him.

He especially feels that right now seeing two skinny, attractive males at his office talk to his girlfriend meanwhile he went to grab his third plate of snacks

Minho and Seojoon are attractive no doubt and tae, fuck tae for sure is pretty but he can’t help but sneer at how they’re talking to his girlfriend damn it!

Tae seems to sense it knowing Jin like the back of her hand as he makes eye contact with him in his mod shovel of a turkey wrap. Giving him her beautiful smile and motioning him to come over.

So he waddles there with all he’s got. Immediately Minho and Seojoons faces fall. But tae beams at him, “gentlemen this is my boyfriend who works in your department.”

Jin can’t help but smile fat cheeks bunching up as tae calls him her boyfriend not afraid to say that word to others. He coughs putting his plate down to shake their hands.

“Yep that’s me, how are you guys.”

They splutter unable to comprehend. Still they shake his fat hand.

“This dude is your boyfriend?!”

Taehyung beams, “yes he’s a pro when it comes to computer engineering. Anyways it was nice meeting you guys but I’m tired.”

She waved goodbye as she grabs jins wrist and drags them into the hallway.

“Ugh babe you work with suck pricks, you’re lucky I love you; work parties like these suck.”

Jin can’t even begin to explain what had just happened. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe someone like tae would date someone like him.

He guesses he’s very out of it since he doesn’t come back until taes snapping her fingers in his face and that’s when he notices their in the company family bathroom.

“Um babe?”

She hums noticing jins confusion. “What you think you can look that good and big in this suit and not let me suck you off?”

Jins jaw dropped and he couldn’t help but release the whimper as she dropped to her knees.

“Tae please… not here”

He know she doesn’t sound convincing either way tae smirks at him. Fingers working at his belt. “Should’ve thought about that before dragging me here and watching your belly scream to be set free.”

His pants are unbuttoned in a flash, fat pad and lower belly dropping free.

“Fuck Jin you’re so hot.”

His dick is already leaking at the compliment and the way she grinds down her nails on his gigantic stomach after unbuttoning his shirt feels undeniably good.

His hips snap as she fondles his balls, fat body immediately jiggling.

“Cant even see your dick anymore, have to look for the tiny thing under all this fat.”

He whimpers, arm coming to suppress his sounds.

She trails her lips up and down the angry stench marks leaving little kisses.

His hand can’t cover the loud moan he lets out when she has him in her grip. She gives him a tug other hand lifting up his fat pad and stomach.

“So small sweetie, you were so much bigger before could feel it as soon as you put it in me. Now you’re just a big fat boy right?”

“Yes tae please- y-our big boy”

“My piggy just wants me to eat him up right?”

“Fuck- tae”

He can’t help but bucks his hips as soon as she put him in her mouth. His fat stomach molding her face into it.

She licks the tip, tongue sliding along the base as she begins to bob her mouth. Face colliding with his fat pad as she takes him all the way down

“Fuck- fuck babe”

She hums sending ripples of pleasure up his body. It just can’t stop rippling

It only takes a few more minutes before Jin is coming down her throat. And of course she makes eye contact with him as she swallows.

Complete fucking menace.

He does his best to bend down to help her up immediately pulling her run to his fat chest and squishing her there. She hums and gives his moobs a peck.

He can’t help but kiss her hard, tasting himself.

“Liked that big boy?”

He hums pecking her lips, “loved, now let’s go home so I can fuck you.”

#they’re back #kinda more fluff #they’re just in love #sorry it’s so late #kinda trash lmaooo #missed the community #tae and jin 🥲#my female tae and Jin ship will die with forever

39 notes · View notes

sagessoftwings · 3 years

Note

Hewwoo! I just stumbled upon your tumblr and noticed that you do amazing matchups! Is it alright if I could get a haikyuu matchup if it’s possible?? 🤔

I’m straight and I go by she/her!

My zodiac sign is a Taurus ♉️ 😙

Hobbies are: shopping, baking, cooking, reading and anything self care related 🥰

I’d like to think of myself as a happy go lucky type of gal that’s extremely sarcastic and witty. When I’m down or being insulted my go to response or coping mechanism is sarcasm and dark humour! 😃

People may be intimidated by me at first if I don’t approach them because I have a resisting b*tch face even though I’m short (5’2) but I swear I’m super friendly if you get to know me. Or at least I think I am?

Friends would describe me as a dumb intellectual or a playful, sometimes destructive and impulsive hard worker. 😂😂 They also see me as an extrovert even though I’m not XD, I have the type of confidence that’s faked while my insides are crippling with anxiety. So, an ambivert I suppose?

I hope this has enough information for a matchup, thank you so much for reading! I hope you have a super duper great day!!! Stay safe 😷

AWH YOU’RE SO SWEET ABSOLUTELY MY LOVE!!

I ship you with Koshi Suguwara!!

FIRST OFF LOVES SKIN CARE

Very very important

He will sooo buy you two matching headbands with cute little ears

Very sarcastic despite what some of the fandom thinks, he is so funny too ugh gotta love him

Suga is also the type to read to you even if he’s cooking

But feel free to join in, he likes your cooking more anyways

The first time you baked for him you forced him to bring a platter for the team and let me tell you, he was debating on eating them to school or hiding them because when it comes to you he does not share- no bueno

The ONLY person he trust you around is Daichi but he still keeps a close eye because you’re special to him

Was scared shitless when you two first met but when you warmed up. He may or may have not wanted to kiss you right there

Very handsy with you, but subtly like holding hands and kissing them or smooches you your cheek or head

But in private your all his

Even though he doesn’t play as much he still likes you to come to his games, that was until you almost threw hands with coach Ukai

His weakness is when you wear skirts because you’re just so.. accessible

His hands will be on your thighs and he has such pretty hands let me just say that

Loves to hug you from behind and then caress your face when you turn in his arms

His kisses are amazing and will kiss everywhere

Little smutty but loves when you have your legs over his shoulders so he can kiss you ankle

Especially if you wear the anklet he gave you UGH HES SCREAMING WITHOUT THE S WHEW

Loves to shop with you and carry your stuff, it’s only right

Especially after you model for him, he loves the smile on your face when you find something you like

Only because he hates it when you don’t find something in your size that you really like or if something just doesn’t fit right in your opinion . He takes it upon himself to remind you how beautiful you are to him

And then will have Asahi make it in your size

He adores you and when you get ecstatic when you try it on, that’s al that matters to him

Makes life better

#sugawara headcanon #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi #sugawara hcs #hq matchups #hq headcanons #hq x reader #haikyuu matchups #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader headcanons

14 notes · View notes

sugar-petals · 4 years

Text

BTS Tarot Reading ➝ What Kind Of Porn Do They Watch? (18+)

↳ NOTE - due to several requests, a steamy and detailed one. ☕️ we’re asking the cards about the erotica they fancy in a wider sense.

warning ⚠️ 18+ // bdsm mentions, worship, kinks left and right. we’re going graphic in all types o’ ways, lads.

♡ DISCLAIMER // tarot is speculative, there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. all portrayals are fictive and for entertainment purposes only.

SPREAD #1:

yoongi

⌈ THE WORLD ⇁ Jesus... Someone’s obsessed with girls in the nude. That card has a stark naked woman wrapped in very little satin on it so you know what our funky little guy is up to. Luscious aesthetic fotos might be just around his corner. Big duh, he’s a photography major. These folks are all about body appreciation. He’s also on a personal vendetta against lingerie 😂 Yoongi won’t get hard looking at even the most HD panty and bra ads. Only the skin in its full splendor will do, no editing. He loves pictures of nipples peaking through shirt fabric, it’s all over his phone. Yoongi likes his gals without underwear 24/7 just like he dislikes underwear himself. If we’re talking porn, the woman on the card is holding two very long rods so may I connect the dots: Threesomes, handjobs, blowbangs, spitroasting. Friction, friction, and more friction. To Yoongi’s brain, handjobs are a great um new version of holding hands. Sex standing up also, keeping it vertical. Yoongi doesn’t care about girth, inches count. Nice and elongated with a perfect plunge, something to hold onto. Yep, he’s pretty deliberate when searching that up. Yes, he loves the look of it. However, and you’ll be surprised: Even if he likes poly porn, it’s still nothing too extreme. This card is more about pleasure than pain. If a guy likes rough and degrading sex, you get swords and wands in his spread. THE WORLD is more about perfected skills and success. So, he likes the more accomplished porn stars. With a preference for curly blondes and redheads, that’s sort of the hair color on the card. Natural B or C cup. Medium height, not too curvy. Oversized booty not needed. In terms of nationality: We have three representative animals on the card. Eagle, lion and bull, plus a light blonde man’s head. So, anything that America/Germany/Albania/Mexico/Namibia (and so on, lot of countries with eagles as their national bird my dude), England, Spain and Scandinavia have to offer. Honey sugar is going international, baby.

hoseok

⌈ QUEEN OF WANDS ⇁ Did I just mention that guys who like rough sex in porn get wand cards in their readings in Yoongi’s segment? Well, there we have our candidate, with a very obvious card since it’s a court figure. Now, the thing is, this is not the guy being rough. The QUEEN OF WANDS is as notoriously femdom as can be. The very fiery and raw and fun version. So, with a degree of lightheartedness, but still being very fit — even buff — and hands-on with the sub. If you get the QUEEN OF SWORDS, that’s the more cool and calculated domme who signs you up for torture and humiliation, and she really looks like a domme. She’s all over the internet because she has the grit. Now wands combined with a tarot queen... it’s more about the stamina and she is approachable. Hobi does not like watching cruel girls, he likes challenging ones. Upbeat porn stars who can take a lot but most importantly dole it out assertively like pros are Hobi’s schtick. He’s unapologetic about that. With him it’s like, please not the local newcomers that turned legal a month ago. The queen cards are all about mature women. Mommy kink, hint hint. The kind of mommy who’s gonna whip out the spreader bar or cane (= wands again) and give a playful type of punishment. See how desert-like that imagery is, Hobi wants to sweat big time when he gets off to this. Now since wands also make for a damn good pole to dance on, go figure. This whole card has me wondering if, well alright, he is a Cardi B hard stan 😅 If Hobi blasts Money to get in the mood, I’d not be surprised. Anyway. Back to pole stuff: If you go through his youtube search history, you will find astounding things. I think he watches the more professional and athletic performers in competition though. High production value is key. Finally, an interesting card detail: There’s a sunflower on it. This is definitely his kind of tarot imagery.

jimin

⌈ KING OF COINS ⇁ This card always looks like a scene from a medieval movie so you might have an erotic film enthusiast here. The more chaste type of genre, pentacles are very grounded and not hypersexualized. The intimacy is slow and more about security and pleasure. It’s graphic and detailed, but gives you a sense of relaxation. With a bit of romance in the plot, that might absolutely be Jimin’s thing. Castles and wine and nobility. Interesting type of erotica. Historical and classy. As expected of a prince, mind you. He might enjoy books of that genre also. And we know Jimin is an avid reader, right up there with Namjoon. Now, even with more risque and contemporary stuff that he googles up, we have similar dynamics going down on screen. With Hobi we had femdom because it’s a queen card, now with Jimin we get the classic male dom type of porn because that’s how the King usually rolls, unless it’s the KING OF CUPS who’s touchy-feely and subby. Meanwhile, the KING OF COINS is your local sugar daddy. Leaning towards being a soft dom, he’s not aggressive. And Jimin surely has a little crush on that concept. Ye know, if all the other members have female cards and Jimin gets the sugar daddy, we might be dealing with mxm action. Because if this card was a porn star, he’d be a really, really rich producer and a bear who’s done this since the frickin’ 90s. He’s treating his subs very gently and lets them sit on their lap, the imagery is sort of like that because the King is balancing a pentacle on his left thigh. Sex and comfort all in one are life for Jimin. A sexy detail I only noticed at a second glance, the King also has a shortened golden staff with him, which has a rounded tip. If that’s not a butt plug… whenever I see props like that in tarot, I interpret it as a sex toy. So, good vibes in here. And a bunch of aphrodisiacs, the KING OF COINS is a foodie. Which you know, might just be a food porn type of reference. Jimin’s taste in sexy things is quite something else.

jungkook

⌈ THE EMPRESS ⇁ If there’s one thing I like, it’s the Tarot giving me the important archetypes during readings of that kind. The Queens, the Kings, the Major arcana (see Yoongi’s and Jin’s segment). You can really draw a lot of hints out of it. Now with the EMPRESS you have a similar case to Hobi’s, just a lot more softcore. Jungkook has a refined and pretty vast taste in erotica, if not the most refined in Bangtan next to Jimin who likes that kind of dignified touch to it as well as we saw. Jungkook knows his stuff when it comes to searching things up, he is a first class netizen in that regard. In terms of genre: The EMPRESS is your highkey feminist and wholesomeness legend, so — you won’t find any super creepy things in some hidden file on his PC, and things by female producers instead. No slut-shaming or name-calling here, everyone gets their pleasure in their own right. Thanks to online sex ed, Jungkook has a map to the clit and he’s not afraid to use it. He’s the type to watch solo videos ad nauseam. He’s fascinated. Masturbation until it gets all messy with the juices flowing, and you bet he wants to see the girls buzzing themselves off lying on their back. Maybe even outdoors in a field. Cum play is a must, cunnilingus is a must, he loves unprotected sex and creampies, he loves breast massages. And yes. Anything that involves sex with pregnant and chubby women. Similar to Taehyung, it’s all about the focus on the girl, he doesn’t bother much with the guy performers. And given Yoongi’s reading on top of that, we have three members in BTS who are all about worshipping the female body right here, breasts over ass, and he likes blondes, too. The EMPRESS card is like… the entire porn industry who does the MILF and BBW genre is financed by Jeon Jungkook’s website subscriptions. Cue GOT7, with Jungkook it’s girls, girls, girls. The thirst is going strong, and he’s unashamed times ten, sex is sex.

➝ we also have members who don’t really bother with erotica or have a complicated relationship with it.

SPREAD #2

taehyung

⌈ ACE OF WANDS reversed ⇁ He’s not about beating off until the world ends. Taehyung gets bored by porn or heated literature and doesn’t feel very motivated to search it up. He would rather come up with his own ideas to write but doesn’t have the energy. Sex drive: On hold, even if he tries to look something up it doesn’t feel very fulfilling to him. Most of it fails to turn him on, it’s not his kind of taste. He gets frustrated when he masturbates and would rather rest, dream, and doze. The only thing I can see him watch somewhat frequently — hold your horses — is lesbian porn. I’ll explain. The ACE OF WANDS is pretty much your most glaring handjob symbolism card. A hand gripping a stick. Yoongi’s THE WORLD card has very similar imagery, I mean even two wands and a girl, bisexual explosion much. He would be a big fan of the upright ACE OF WANDS card lmao! But the reversal is like, um no silly guys jerking off in here, pls. Keep your cum to yourself. That means: Zero dicks in Taehyung’s zone, girl-on-girl stuff is his very last resort for quality that he is desperate for but cannot find. And not the stuff where the producers just replace the guys with heavy arsenal sex toys, double-ended dildos, fucking machines, endless strap-on action without any clit stimulation on either side and whatnot. Taehyung is like ugh, cherie, why, give me the juicy stuff, give me the basics. What he wants is just pure scissoring, fingering, oral, little gentle bites, a lot of caresses and kisses. And slow, slow sex. Probably the amateur kind. He hates how brutal and exaggerated most things online are. Tae is looking for softness, a lot of lesbian action is what delivers in that regard so he takes all he gets. And it goes further than that, Taehyung knows the finest yuri recommendations, I’m telling you.

seokjin

⌈ THE STAR reverse ⇁ The opposite of Yoongi: not keeping it very naked in here. The upright card shows a nude woman pouring water from two cups. Hence a strong connection to the card of sexuality, TWO OF CUPS. Everything is very gentle and positive in that scenery. But then, the reversed card rather shows us that Jin doesn’t feel too thrilled watching other people film or write or photograph sex. Like in Tae’s case, he becomes bored, it’s all the same to him. Nothing’s ever new to him in porn. He feels negative and guilty rather than refreshed or entertained. He also doesn’t like a lot of kinks that very literally connect to, well, the pouring water. Squirting, cum play, watersports, sex in the pool or showers, lube overuse, creampies, bukkake, fake cum — Jin is rolling his eyes at that, he thinks it’s a circus. He’s surely given it a try, but ended up feeling worse and even more pent-up or dissatisfied. At best, you will find him on unknown websites looking for the most amateur videos there are. Because: THE STAR quite unequivocally hints at porn stars. If you reverse the card, it becomes someone not very well-known. He roots for the underdog. Accordingly, Jin’s reaction to mainstream videos goes this way: ‚Pipe down, you non-artists!’ 😆 Cause maybe, he does do it better aye, without the awkward angles anyway. He doesn’t want the body cult, like, put that airbrush and silicone out of my face bro. Not because he’s against surgery, but the idea behind sexual extremes and the shady high standards. It’s too polished for him to get turned on. And robotic/staged. Likely because he’s had an IRL sexual experience (gasp!) that set a different ideal to him, so the more glossy porn feels off. Home video has all he needs instead. I think it’s especially because you get so see more body hair there. The woman on the THE STAR card is all sleek, so the reversed card is the opposite, Jin wants that unshaved goodness.

namjoon

⌈ EIGHT OF CUPS ⇁ Now you’d think — and I thought, kinda — we’d get the master of erotica right here. And he’s had one hell of a reputation for that. Think of the ever-infamous Yaman TV interview where BTS were super upfront and revealing about their taste and what they watch privately. With especially Namjoon having the lion’s share. But this card says otherwise if his current state is concerned. The EIGHT OF CUPS shows a man wandering off into the night, leaving eight cups behind him. I think what that means is, he’s moved on. Namjoon’s cravings aren’t as strong as they used to be, nor does he have the time. He knows it won’t fix his loneliness or answer the questions of life. He might be on the search for different things to fulfill him, or ignore much of his hormones in favor for his career. Not that he didn’t dabble in it, he sure did, but that chapter is slowly closing and what’s next he doesn’t really know yet. He thinks about family and being a father, so the smaller and more risque pleasures become less significant. Desire, too. Ye olde soul syndrome is kicking in. The card is also centered around introspection, a quest for self, all these higher topics that aren’t the most grounded and don’t leave much space for being horny. Joon is simply to preoccupied and on the move. He sees porn as a distraction from his real self at this point, and he’s not the type to feel satiated after masturbating to something, similar to Jin and Taehyung. Instead, I think he carries that energy elsewhere, hence the wanderer going from A to B onto a mountain. In short, Namjoon naturally grew out of it by becoming more, well: Namjoon. He’s left a lot behind, he’s choosing self-development over temporary fun, and he will ponder a lot on the topic, the hows and whys and whats more often than not. So, he’s passed the baton to Yoongi and Jungkook if you will, and keeps a low profile as of now.

tarot mlist | ko-fi

----

for anon:

#bts tarot #bts #bangtan #bts smut #bts tarot reading #tarot #long post

381 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 4 years

Note

Hey honey!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!! I have a request based on what we talked about the other day hehehe!! Where beefy!Bucky buys boxers a size smaller and teases reader by walking around in them in their room and when they're in the common room with the team he sits opposite her and is wearing a size smaller in jeans too so it shows his glorious bulge and her eyes almost drop out of her head and he's just sat there being all cocky (haha) and stuff?

A Tight Argument

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,152

Summary: Bucky gets himself some new pairs of boxers because he knows how much you like them.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for this fun request my love! I so hope you enjoy it! I love writing Bucky as a tease and we both know how much we love him in anything tight to accentuate all his parts (because they are all so good) love you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: teasing, fluff, Bucky’s thighs and bulge (haha), light implied smut

Folding laundry was not on your list of favorite things to do, but you had help from Bucky so that always made things better. “We are almost done, babe!” you sing, doing a little dance in happiness. Bucky’s eyes light up at the sight, tickling your side and saying, “thank god, I’m starving!”

“You’re always hungry, babe,” you tease, poking him back. Reaching into the bottom of the hamper you find the last pile of clothes, all of Bucky’s underwear. Pulling them out to fold you notice there are some new ones, “hey Buck, did you buy new boxer briefs, I don’t remember these?” you ask, holding up two pairs.

“I did. Some of the old ones got stretched out and I know how much you enjoy me in my tight boxers,” he replies, wiggling his eyebrows. “Ugh, I knew I should have never said anything to you!” you say lightly. “You didn’t have to say anything, y/n, you were practically drooling.”

Huffing, you throw the last pair at his face and stomp out of the bedroom, determined to find some food. Bucky emerges a few minutes later with a lop-sided grin, “whatcha eatin’?” he asks as he wraps his arms around your middle.

You scoop another bite of ice cream and turn around in his arms, feeding it to him, “something almost as yummy as you.” His smile is wicked, “it is pretty tasty,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you with a strawberry ice cream flavored tongue.

After an afternoon of training followed by a team meeting with Steve you and Bucky head off to clean up and relax for the day. Shuffling around the kitchen trying to figure out what to do for dinner you don’t hear Bucky enter the room until he asks, “need some help, doll?”

You spin around, nearly dropping the eggs and milk. “Jeez Bucky, warn a girl will ya!” He chuckles, coming around the counter to grab the ingredients from you, “what were you thinking of making with eggs and milk?” he counters.

You don’t answer him, staring at his clothes, or lack thereof. “What are those?” you ask, voice merely a whisper as you point to his crotch area. “Oh, my new boxers!” he says far too cheerfully and you’re already onto his little game.

“I see,” you deadpan, turning around and bending to retrieve some veggies from the fridge. You’re sure to spend some extra time with your ass in the air, the boy shorts you’re wearing doing little cover it. “I thought we could have breakfast for dinner! Omelets, pancakes and some bacon, how does that sound?”

Bucky’s gaze is heated as he replies, “delicious, baby.” You saunter past him, “great, let’s get to cookin’! But you might want to throw on some clothes, that bacon grease gets hot!” You stare him down with a blank look, refusing to give in yet.

“I’ll be fine, it’s hot in here anyway.” He moves behind you, reaching up to grab some plates and as he leans against your back you can feel the hardness of his body. Sticking your ass into his crotch you feel the throb of his cock easily through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“I’m starving,” you say as you turn to scoot under this arm. Moving across the kitchen you start to chop vegetables for the omelets. “Me too, I’ll set the table then start the bacon,” Bucky says as he gathers plates and utensils.

You find it hard to tear your eyes away from his body as he moves back and forth carrying various things to the table. The tight boxers do little to hide the thick muscles of his thighs and his bulge is on full display. You inwardly groan, wanting to just give up and let him have his way with you, but you tighten your resolve and focus on the vegetables.

Bucky prepares the pan and starts cooking the bacon, dinner on the table in a short time. Everything is delish, including Bucky, shirtless at the table. He offers to wash the dishes, standing at the sink with his ass in perfect view.

“Fuck it” you mutter under your breath, walking over and hugging him from behind. You finders smooth over his chiseled abs, dancing their way down to the waistband of his boxers. He sucks in a breath as your hand dips below and gently strokes his smooth skin.

Shutting the water, Bucky turns in your arms, grabbing your ass in a firm squeeze just as Friday alerts the whole tower that Tony wants to see everyone in the common room stat. You both let out a loud groan of frustration, “what the fuck,” Bucky blurts out, gritting his teeth.

“Let’s hurry and get in there so we can get this over with,” you say, going to grab some pants. Bucky follows you and puts on jeans and a tee shirt. It isn’t until you’re walking out the door that you notice it’s the pair of jeans that fits extra snug. So snug, his ass and thighs can barely be contained.

Upon entering the common room, you see that most of the team had the same idea and seats are sparse. “Grab us a seat, I’m gonna get some water,” you whisper to Bucky before heading into the kitchen. He finds the only free spot, sitting next to Clint with his legs spread wide and a shit eating grin on his face.

“What’s up with you, Buck?” Clint asks, eyeing Bucky curiously. “Nothing really,” he replies, eyes fixed on your form in the kitchen. Clint follows his eyeline, “ugh, forget I asked,” he mumbles. Bucky chuckles, watching as you make your way toward him.

Your eyes roam over his body, landing on the obvious bulge in his tight jeans. Your eyes widen, Bucky loving your reaction as he keeps his gaze on you. Stopping at the couch across from him you sit on the edge, clearly lost in your own dirty thoughts as Tony starts talking.

The two of you stare at each other for what feels like hours, your skin feeling hot and the room suddenly too quiet. “Hey, y/l/n, Earth to y/n!” Tony’s voice rips you from your daydream, nearly sending you careening to the floor, “what?” Everyone in the room chuckles, your cheeks turning bright red as you duck your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll make this quick so you can get back to wherever you were in that head of yours,” Tony teases.

Bucky pulls his plush bottom lip between his teeth, spreading his legs just a bit further apart as he raises his eyebrows in your direction, blowing you a kiss. You give him your best dirty look, squeezing your legs together as you feel the wetness collect between them. He gives you a knowing look, his large hands gripping his thighs tighter as he licks his lips.

@book-dragon-13 @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @itsunclebucky @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @jhangelface0523 @loricameback @lollypop-lam @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @nerdypinupcrystal @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @sebastiansloserclub

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #thigh kink #thighs of betrayal #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #bucky fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes smut

450 notes · View notes

pricklerick · 3 years

Text

Thanksgiving used to be Summer’s favorite holiday.

It meant spending two whole nights with Jerry’s parents and waking up early and going for a long walk in the snow, then peeling off wet clothes just in time to watch the dog show on TV while grandma baked pumpkin pie.

Things are different now, with Grandpa Rick and Morty gone. Dad, of course, had instantly accused Grandpa Rick of kidnapping Morty. Mom had screamed that her father would never do something like that to his family, to her (even know Summer knows that deep down, her mother was very afraid that Grandpa Rick had done exactly that).

The divorce was so ugly that Summer transferred to a school in Texas, losing a bunch of her class credits just to get away from them.

Texas is good. Well, it’s hot, and Summer’s skin hates that, but the people are nice and her classes are easy, and if she stays within a certain neighborhood, she can find whatever she wants without having to edge over to the east side of town.

She even has a finance. David plays football and his parents own a ranch in the Texas hill country. They have a little money and they like to flaunt it.

Years ago, before Grandpa Rick burst into Summer’s life and started taking her little brother on adventures, before portal guns and real guns and near death experiences became Summer’s adrenaline fix, she would have been thrilled to nail down a guy like David. David is kind, and sweet, and very attractive. He’s got a good future and he’s looking at being scouted as quarterback next year.

Summer’s ring is a gaudy thing, at least two carats, and it sits heavy on her finger. She only wears it when she knows she’ll be with David or the in-laws. It’s an heirloom ring, passed down through generations, and Summer hates it. She’s forever fiddling with it, or pulling her sleeve down to cover it, or hiding it in her back pocket when she’s out with girl friends.

She doesn’t go out as often anymore - they’re seniors now, and Summer has been told that the partying needs to slow down now that David’s future is getting serious. Summer is fine with this. There’s nothing on this earth that matches a party in space, anyway.

Sometimes, Summer looks up at the night sky and wonders how she could get her hands on some of Grandpa Rick’s K-Lax. That was good stuff.

It’s easy to justify spending Thanksgiving away from home because of travel expenses and final exams. Summer’s done it three years in a row now. She doesn't often think of Beth, or of Jerry, either. She’s deeply entrenched in a new family now, invested in a future mother-in -law who insists on being called “Mama June” or even just “Mama,” and an emotionally detached father-in-law who feels that talking to a woman who is not his wife is beneath him.

Summer is spending more and more time outside, looking at the stars, wishing, remembering.

But this week, the week before break, at 2:43 am, Summer’s phone screen lights up with a call from “Beth Smith.” And when Summer, groggy and maybe already a little hungover, answers with a hoarse, “Hello?” Beth is slobbering drunk.

“Honey, please,” Beth cries, slurring her words and hitching her breaths. “I need to see my baby, Summer. It’s Thanksgiving, next week. Summer, remember? Remember Thanksgiving? You... You’re all I have left.”

Yeesh.

Summer does not want to spend her break dealing with Beth and all of her sloppy-alcoholic coping mechanisms.That’s why she’d run away to Texas to begin with.

Summer hasn’t been home since the night they lost Morty.

She doesn’t want to go back. So she shushes Beth over the phone, lets her cry it out and then they start it all again, the crying and the shushing, over and over until Beth is nearly asleep, slurring half-formed words into her pillow.

Summer disconnects the call and drops her face into her hands. “Fuck.”

“What, babe?”

Ugh, she’d forgotten that David had stayed over.

David wraps his greedy arms around Summer’s waist and pulls her in, his naked boner brushing hot against her thigh. It makes her sick. She pulls away from him, leaning against the headboard and fumbling for the lamp. Beside her, David blinks owlishly in the light.

“I’m going home for Thanksgiving,” she tells him. No sense dragging it out.

“Oh,” says David, reaching up to stroke Summer’s cheeks and twine his fingers in her hair. Summer tenses at this, but David is oblivious, still carding his big stupid paws though Summer’s shower-damp braids and looking at her with an intensity that is frankly... terrifying. “What about coming back to Pilot Point, babe?,” he reminds her and he leans forward in an effort to pepper Summer’s face with kisses. Summer dodges them, making a show of reaching for her phone, so David grabs her hand instead. “Remember talking about seeing my folks?”

Summer is suddenly disgusted with herself. She ran away from home straight into the arms of this Mama’s boy who can hardly keep it up for the four and a half minutes it takes him to blow his load in missionary position.

Summer is a Sanchez.

She’s wondered for a while, especially after that stunt Dad pulled during the divorce, if she should have her name legally changed. She shares a quarter of Grandpa Rick’s genes, and by her rights as a Sanchez, the universe owes her good sex.

At least.

“Sorry, David,” she says and she deftly rolls away from him to stand at the edge of their shared bed. “Plans have changed. Mom needs me.”

Now David is sitting up, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy, but there’s a hardness in his eyes that Summer doesn’t like. Oh well. In for a penny, she guesses.

“Listen, dude, this isn’t working anyway. I’m not the hot little wifey on your arm that your parents are hoping you’ll find here.” She snorts, pacing around the bedroom, ticking off points on her fingers. “I don’t even want kids. I’m Summer Sanchez. I’ve been to space. I’ve seen the stars and constellations and comets and asteroids. I’ve met people you wouldn’t believe. I’ve met planets you wouldn’t believe - sentient planets, David! I’ve hit alien drugs that would blow your tiny mind.” She’s trembling now, all keyed up, but it feels good. There’s something cathartic about acknowledging the truth after so long.

She decides that Summer Sanchez has a nice ring to it.

She lifts her hands and twirls, landing in a heap at the foot of the bed. “The best sex I ever had was with a flying lamb on Oourivian Prime, for Chrissakes.” Summer turns, flushed and grinning, and pokes David in the chest. “You better believe I’m not settling down on a silly horse farm in Pilot Point!”

David is looking at her wide-eyed and slack-jawed, like he’s seeing her for the first time. The thought makes Summer smile a real smile. In a fit of giddiness, she pecks him playfully on the lips, sliding his ridiculous ring from her finger and curling it into his palm. “Good luck with that, babe!”

Feeling freer than she has in years, she flutters around the room, grabbing a few outfits that she likes and stuffing them haphazardly into an old gym bag. The whole thing takes less than a minute.

“Oh, and don’t take it too hard,” she calls over her shoulder, “I don’t think we’re really all that sexually compatible, anyway.” She waves a hand toward the flagging erection that is peaking from David’s boxers. “I’m more of a tentacle kind of girl, if you know what I mean.”

And so, during the fall semester of her senior year, Summer Sanchez dropped out of Texas A&M’s pre-law program and flew home to see her mother for the first time in three years.

xxx

Morty enters through the front door because he’s not a stranger. He’s not exactly sure how long it’s been on Earth - time moves differently on Morty’s waste planet - but somehow, he hadn’t expected it to be night. It makes him feel like a burglar, walking up the concrete steps to the front door with his big black cowl pulled low over his face, a deeply ingrained habit.

“You’ve only got one face, Mo-AAAUURRGG-rty. Don’t get caught with it.”

The key code to unlock the door is the same. Morty sighs, surprised at the stress that leaves his body with this revelation. He hadn’t wanted to break into his parents’ home. Now, he doesn’t have to.

He whirls around, taking one last look at the ship he’d parked on the garage pad. He’d avoided the streetlamps best he could, managed to land very quietly (thanks for that rad auto-landing feature, Rick)partially concealed behind some overgrown azaleas.

Morty sighs, tense again. Modifications aside, that is obviously Rick’s ship to anybody who knows it. Morty hopes he can get what he needs and get out. It would be wrong to disturb whatever peace his family had managed to regain in the years he’s been gone.

The front door is squeakier than Morty remembers. He slips into the kitchen as quickly, quiet as a ghost, and pulls the door slowly to behind him.

His first thought is that he’d forgotten that home has a smell. Carpet and lemon pledge and laundry detergent, and the lingering scent of last night’s dinner all converge on his senses like a physical blow to the gut.

How could Morty have forgotten that smell?

He glances around, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the street lamps. A few scattered dishes lie in the sink, an empty wine bottle sits abandoned on the counter. He’s standing on the same ugly linoleum floor with its worn green leaf patten, so subtle you’d miss it if you didn’t know where to look.

Time hasn’t touched the kitchen.

Morty stands in his childhood home and takes three deep breaths. He thought he’d been prepared for anything and everything - all the changes. He’d been ready.

But the house is exactly the same.

It’s Morty who has changed.

Morty’s breathing speeds, and he shakes off the shudder that tempts to run down his spine. If the kitchen affected him this deeply…. He swings his gaze to the garage door that beckons ominously to his left.

Don’t think about it, he reminds himself sharply. The plan is simple - break into the garage, grab the stuff, and get out. There will be time for memories later.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about… him.

Morty shakes himself, setting his shoulders and pulling the heavy door handle toward him as he turns it to minimize noise. Unlike the kitchen, the swing of the garage door is silent.

The darkness deepens as Morty steps down the single step - there are no windows to let in the glow of the street lights here. The air is hotter and heavy, almost stale, and as Morty turns his back to the room to slowly pull the door to, he gets the strangest feeling. It’s almost the uneasiness he feels when he walks to the grave of the other Morty who is buried in the backyard. It raises the hairs on his neck, and Morty wonders if anybody in the family have used this garage since...

Don’t think about it.

Door secured and locked, Morty lets his fingers drift along the walls, his opposite hand outstretched in search of obstacles. But it seems that the garage is exactly as Morty remembers, and he navigates the dark with increasing confidence. He snags the dangling string - right where it should be - and tugs. The bare bulb that hangs over Rick’s work table pops and hums as it slowly blinks on, and Morty bites back a smile at the irony of the inter-galactic space genius Rick Sanchez discovering his greatest scientific breakthroughs beneath this dirty fluorescent bulb.

A thousand memories assault him at once.

“A hair, Morty, I need one of your hairs!”

“Bring me the thing. The thing. The thing. The -- the -- it's got, like, buttons on it and lights on it. It -- it -- it beeps.”

“You little son of a bitch! Y-y- are you a simulation?! Huh?! Are you a simulation??”

“I’m the Rickest Rick there is. And you know, it would - UUUURRGGHH- go without saying that the Rickest Rick… would have the Mortyest Morty.”

“Be better than I am.”

“Don’t… Don’t think about it.”

Morty sucks in a deep breath and grits his teeth hard. Time to get busy.

xxx

Three hours later, and Morty is almost done with the garage.

He glances at the digital clock that reads 3:33. By the time he gets this stuff loaded, it’ll be nearly daylight.

Damn, he’d really hoped to get everything in one trip. Fuel for a trip to Earth from his encampment is not cheap, and this was a long trip.

He picks up the first item, a strangely lightweight box labeled “Time Travel Stuff” and heads toward the kitchen. He dares not raise the garage door - that would make too much noise.

He opens the door and comes nose to nose with Summer.

“What. The fuck. Are you doing in my grandpa’s garage?” she says slowly, advancing on him with each word.

Morty’s first thought as he stumbles backward is, “Where did my sister get a pistol?”

He trips over the step in an effort to give her some space, sending the box flying. He finds himself sprawled on the floor, space bits everywhere, and his ass is killing him. “Ah, geez,” he breathes, repositioning slowly to take the pressure off of his coccyx. It’s probably broken.

Summer’s hands are trembling, and she lowers the gun. “Morty?”

Oh. His hood had fallen when he did. Morty looks up at her, a little sheepishly, suddenly very aware of the beard he’d decided to grow a while back. “Umm, yeah,” he says lamely, still wincing at the pain. “Hi!”

There’s a funny expression on Summer’s face, like she’s thinking a billion things at once, and her eyes are wider than Morty’s ever seen them. But then her gaze hardens. “And which one are you?” she demands, looking as if she’d like to bring the gun back to his head.

Morty raises his eyebrows. He wouldn’t have expected Summer to immediately question his dimension. Clever of her. He quirks a little smile. “C-137,” he answers her, trying and mostly failing to get back on his feet. “I’m your Morty. Well, your second Morty.”

Quick as a blink, Summer slings the gun away. It lands with a clatter and she launches herself at Morty, wrapping him in a rib-creaking hug. Morty’s body tenses - hugs are definitely not his typical physical interaction. But Summer is burying her face into the crook of his neck, and Morty is surprised to find how easily it fits there. When he’d left, they’d barely stood eye to eye.

Morty is stunned. Summer has never hugged him like this. Feebly, he reaches up and lays his hand across her back. She’s shuddering. So Morty pulls her closer, shifting his weight so that his knees are beneath him, and gathers her in. She allows this, never looking up at him, and slowly, Morty relaxes into it.

“Summer?” he asks softly after what feels like a long time. He’s never been good with his sister’s emotions.

Summer cranes her neck sideways to look at him, and she’s a mess of mascara and tears, red-faced and absolutely shaking with laughter. Morty huffs with her, still utterly bewildered by girls. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing’s funny, Morty,” she tells him, but she’s still laughing, so Morty laughs with her. “You’ve been gone for three years. You’ve been legally declared dead, you asshole!” She swats him on the shoulder, but he manages to doge the blow, which only makes her face fall. She comes closer, looking more tearful now than before, and settles beside him. “We had a fucking funeral for you, you complete sack of dicks!”

Morty doesn’t know what to say, so he grabs Summer’s hand and squeezes. “Sorry.”

And he is.

Summer rolls her eyes and snorts, but there’s something softer at the edge of her lips, and she lays her head on Morty’s shoulder and sighs. Morty assumes means he’s forgiven, at least on some level.

They only sit like that for a minute or so before Morty starts to fidget. His ass is absolutely killing him, and time’s a-ticking. He needs to get out of here soon. Summer seems to read the tension in his body, because she stands abruptly and offers her hand, pulling him to his feet with an exaggerated groan.

“Thanks,” he quirks her a little half-smile, the only thing he has to offer her.

But Summer isn’t looking at him. Her eyes are tracking around the garage, noting the boxes that have been drug out and packed up. Something tightens in her face, and when she speaks, it’s in that no-nonsense tone that always drove him up the wall when they were kids.

“What happened, Morty?” Summer finishes her sweep of the garage and pins her gaze on him.

Morty nearly stumbles back at the intensity of it.

“What happened to you? Where is Grandpa Rick?”

Authors Notes:

Based on Vapor Morty, who was originally developed in this hot mess of a text post. Rick’s been kidnapped and Morty has been scouring the universe trying to find him and doing a lot of learning and growing along the way.

Kidnapped Rick saw Morty “die” just before he was kidnapped and went crazy over it. Morty obviously wasn’t dead, was trying to get to Rick to say hey, I’m all good and these guys are after you so let’s get out of here.

Morty literally lives in an intergalactic dumpster and makes a living renovating and selling weapons and machinery. He found his way home to earth because he wants to find any of Rick’s stuff that he could possibly use to track him down, or maybe even build his own portal gun.

Basically, Morty is a little badass now.

I might write more of these little drabbles if people are interested in them. Also, just really hoping I got Summer’s voice right here. Feedback is always, always appreciated, friends! My messages and ask box are open!

#pricklerick original #rick and morty #vapor morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rickorty #summer smith #i could pretty easily be convinced to dabble deeper into this au #so many vapor morty feelings #summer is my precious sunshine child

36 notes · View notes

builder051 · 3 years

Note

Jonestown 'verse if you're up for it.

Drugs of your choice adding up to two very high girls and whatever factor inciting a flashback appeals.

Thanks!

Not sure this is what you were going for, as it's very tame and slow moving. No big action or emeto, though both are mentioned. There is also an ED mention, and obviously mentions of drugs and alcohol.

___________________________________

"I thought this was supposed to be, you know, a date..?" Jess looks down her nose at the bottle of white pills Nat is currently crushing to powder with the handheld pill grinder. "Aren't hallucinogens more... I don't know..."

"Private?" Nat finishes, a sly smile on her face. She opens the grinder and tips the contents into the bottom of a glass, to which she quickly adds cranberry juice and a swizzle stick.

"And since when is cold medicine for grown-ups?" Jess's forehead wrinkles as Nat slides the cocktail across the table to her before she sees to making another one.

"Since it started coming in white powder." Nat laughs. "Still best to ingest, but feels a little fancier than drinking the red stuff straight."

"Ok, ok." Jess puts up her hands, then begins swirling her cocktail before the powder can form unpleasant lumps. "But, seriously. Poor man's ecstasy. For date night." Jess shakes her head. "How's this gonna work?"

"You're the one who told me to cut things off with my dealer," Nat reminds her, a little crossly.

"Yeah. But you didn't answer my question."

"See some pretty lights. Cuddle a lot. Maybe fuck around a little. Then lie back and enjoy the show." Nat grins as if all of this is obvious.

Jess shrugs. "If you say so."

Truth is, the whole thing doesn't sound all that bad. If Jess was still surly and hateful, she'd probably find the proposition not bad at all. But Nat's turned her soft a little. Whipped her flesh so what's underneath depresses under tender pressure. She might want to talk. She might want a little closeness she'll remember in the morning. But she might not want to tell Nat any of that.

"I do," Nat says, tossing crushed pills into another glass and quickly stirring in the powder.

"Ok, then." Jess throws back her beverage, focusing on the bitter cranberry and not on the chemical flavor of the squashed white tablets. They form a film on her tongue, though, and she has to use her teeth to scrape it away.

Nat's empty glass hits the table before Jess's. She's taken it as a slammer instead of a sipper, not that Jess has spent much time savoring it. Jess glances up at Nat's face to find her licking her lips and beckoning her to stand up and follow her toward the bedroom.

Jess is affronted, but she doesn't show it. It's her apartment, so she's the one who ought to be doing the inviting. Right now she's the more conservative presence, though, so maybe her inclination to take them to the sofa to watch television first would be too modest. From what she knows of the drug, Jess isn't sure how much time there is to "fuck around" before the hardcore hallucinations hit.

Once they're on either side of Jess's bed, Nat strips to her t-shirt and underwear. Jess copies her, mostly because it's uncomfortable to sleep in jeans, and putting on pajamas seems too modest in comparison.

"C'mere," Nat says, slipping under the covers and holding them open for Jess.

"Yeah..." Jess slowly wriggles in, moving quickly when she meets Nat's arms and moving into the space left for her. Nat's body is warm, and they fit together well, hips interlocking and knees passing one atop the other.

Nat presses her forehead to Jess's and kisses the end of her nose. Jess can barely keep from screwing up her eyes, for the contact is... not unwanted, exactly. Just a bit much. But at least it's not a kiss on the lips. Jess isn't convinced she won't bite. And not in the sensual way.

"We've got, oh, I don't know. Twenty minutes?" Nat brings her face into Jess's neck, placing her chin on Jess's collarbone. "What do you wanna do?"

Nat's knee finds Jess's crotch and moves back and forth a few times, but Jess uses her hand to gently stop the motion. The presence is fine. The warmth, the comfort of her girlfriend; not just a fling or a casual friend who's weaseled their way into a benefit.

"Mm," Jess muses. "Talk, I guess."

"Ok." Nat goes a little limp. "How are you?"

"Eh."

"I mean, what've you been up to?"

Jess shrugs, raising Nat's chin a little. "Work. Missions. Whiskey." Then she smiles a little. "My girl."

"You've been up your girl?" Nat giggles.

Jess wonders if the white powder is already affecting her.

"Sometimes," she answers, grinning. Then she wonders if she herself is getting emboldened by its ingestion.

Nat keeps laughing. She's gotten bony again lately, and Jess wonders if the dose is weight affected. She's starting to feel fuzzy around the edges, but Nat's bordering on hysterical.

"Chill out a little, would you?" Jess says, wrapping her arms around Nat's body and lifting her easily a couple inches away from her body.

"Whoa." Nat's eyes cross, then float back to normal.

"Twenty minutes?" Jess cocks her head. "How about... fiveish?

"Maybe I should've 'fessed up." Nat puts her hand loosely over her mouth. "I usually take the kid route and drink the red stuff. Or the not-red stuff..."

"Huh?"

"Ever heard of robocough?"

"For fuck's sake, Nat..."

"What? It's better than actual E."

"Yeah, I know, the dealer thing..." Jess shakes her head. "But do you want kidneys?"

Nat shrugs. "Body..."

"'S a good body." Jess strokes Nat shoulder to tit to hipbone, then wraps her arm around her waist. There's definitely less meat than the last time they laid together. It's not her place to say something, though. That's Nat's business, until she gets to the hospitalization point.

"Anyway," Nat goes on, a little slurred. "Powder. That's the way to go."

Jess thinks of the first time she dipped her finger into a little plastic baggie of cocaine and set alight her nostril. She'd been, what, sixteen? Too young and too fed up with her foster care situation to give the cons of her choice much thought. "Yeah..."

She knows Nat started much of the same way, as an orphaned teen, either just out of the red room or during some tenured mission while she was still in their custody. The story changes sometimes. But the progression was much the same for both of them. Uppers. Then downers. Then, well, what they're playing with now. Only the grown-up type. Ecstasy and LSD were fun to use every once in a while, as an escape from the dreaded ordinary that was their lives.

They've discussed it. As much as either of them wants to discuss anything. Similar drug habits are a funny bond. One, a few months ago, they'd once smoked crack together before a mission, then been so thrilled no one had noticed that they stopped at the drugstore for a bottle of cheap champagne.

Champagne. She hasn't had any, so that's not the taste lingering on Jess's tongue. It's the cranberry, since she's scraped away all the white powder already. Jess forgets for a moment that she's had cranberry, though, and swallows hard, wondering if she's experiencing the dregs of vomit. She gulps a couple of times, and, unfortunately, Nat notices.

"Are you gonna puke?" she asks, slipping mostly off Jess and cuddling her from the side. "Are you seriously that high already?"

"No," Jess immediately protests. "I just... Cranberry." She tries to smile. She doesn't want to go through her train of thought to get to the champagne, so she just says, "I'm used to Jack, you know."

"And coke?" Nat grins.

"Ugh, no." Jess hasn't had that either since a bad night that ended with a bad trip. When some days include killing people, including one day long ago where her actions killed her parents, her occasional forays into hallucinogens can come out with some fairly awful results. That one, where the E had been downed with her favorite Jack Daniels and...someone else's... favorite diet coke, had resulted in images of dripping blood that turned out to be very real, as she'd bashed her nose into the edge of the toilet seat and busted a few vessels.

She knows Nat's teasing just a little, but Jess feels bad. She feels burdensome and heavy, which she knows is the recipe for a night of visions she'll regret. It's probably too late now to puke up the drug; Jess can feel it penetrating her system, arranging her settings to vibrate at the ultimate sensitivity.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Jess asks, but it's pointless. Nat's already under, and there's no way to tell if she's heard the question. Her eyes are closed, and her chin rests on Jess's shoulder as her face burrows into the space between the bed's two pillows.

"Fuck..." Jess mumbles. Lights begin to flicker around the edges of her visual field. She resigns herself for whatever's about to come next and closes her eyes. She scoots so her hip is in the sideways V between Nat's torso and thighs. Her warmth is comforting, even as the vision begins to up her anxiety.

Jess feels as though she's one with the bed, one with Nat, and her body is rushing forward to some unknown location in the dark. She slips her arm between Nat's tangled ones and holds on. Nat moans a little, and Jess wonders what she's seeing. Something pleasurable, she hopes.

Jess lets out her breath and wonders what she'll see. She has a stomach full of nerves, but she fights to ignore them as she shrugs and forces herself to answer her own question. Something pleasurable, she hopes.

#jonestown #avengers #jessica jones #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #marvel #mcu #fanfic #fanfiction #sickfic #emeto #alcohol #drugs #ed tw #blood #wlw #f/f #natasha x jessica #crossover

7 notes · View notes

ardentmuse · 5 years

Note

Congrats!!!!!!! I can't wait to read all the wonderful pics you write!!!!! This looks like so much fun!!! 39 for charlie Weasley please and thank you!!!

One More Month

Harry Potter - Charlie Weasley x fem!Reader

39. But then I remembered that I’m a naughty bitch.

Wordcount: 2.7k

Warnings: smut under the break, swearing, injuries, hurt/comfort, also, unprotected sex because they are wizards in a long-term relationship and we can assume magical birth control, right? Also, I’m married and so it is almost impossible for me to remember what pausing for the condom was like anymore. But you all should use protection. Super important. ☺

Masterlist

A/N: Did someone ask for Charlie Weasley smut? No?? Am I giving it to you anyway? Yes. Are you going to like it? Probably not, but it is what it is. The first half of the story could be general reader but the smutty part is written with a vagina-owner in mind, hence the fem!reader. But if you wish to ignore the smut, you can just stop at the little breaker line I put it.

“Y/N, what are you doing here,” Charlie whispered as you lifted the blankets to his cot in the hospital wing in the wee hours of the morning. You pressed your finger to his mouth just as he started his final word. And soon you were hidden up to your neck in your boyfriend’s temporary covers.

A rogue bludger had decided Charlie’s shoulder looked like a nice place to collide during that afternoon’s friendly. That alone would have been fine – Charlie was made of tougher stuff – but the hit had toppled him off his broom. Hooch managed to catch him before he fell to the ground but not before his body collided with the opposing team’s left hoop. The sound his leg made as it snapped against the metal still made you cringe, but Charlie seemed unfazed. Some bruising, some healing to the bone, some rest and a few days off the pitch was all that the incident required. But those were Charlie’s injuries. Your injuries – the ones to your brain at the idea that you could lose this sweet man you loved so much so easily – were not so easily cured.

“Was doing my rounds,” you hummed into his shoulder as you planted light kisses upon the exposed skin. Charlie was sleeping in only his boxer and the feel of his bare skin, hot and smooth against your fingers, was such a welcome feeling, a reminder of his health and virility even in his moment of weakness. “And I thought you could use some company.”

Charlie smiled, or at least you thought he did. It was hard to tell with your head buried against his chest and your hands roaming the exquisite expanse of toned stomach and ribs that lay before you. He let out a light hiss as your lips moved across a bruise upon his shoulder but it was immediately followed by a sigh as Charlie fell further back into the pillows. His hands found root in your hair, encouraging the kind of healing only you could give him.

“You know you could get in quite a lot of trouble for sneaking in here,” he whispered, but his shallow breaths as your fingers teased at the edge of his boxers made it clear his words were simply platitudes to his future guilty conscience.

“You know I thought of that,” you hummed, tickling at his earlobe, “But then I remembered that I’m a naughty bitch.”

Charlie felt you smile against his neck as his hands held tight to your waist, securing you against him. He swallowed.

“Love,” he warned, as your fingers continued their journey southward. At the lightest caress of your fingertips, he closed his eyes and threw his head into the pillow.

Your hand gave a gentle squeeze to the hardened silk of him that only your hands had ever the joy of knowing.

“We only have another month until we’re out of here. Then you’ll move in with me in Romania and we can do this every morning if you want. But, please, love… you know I can’t say no to you.”

You paused your hand to meet his gaze. His expression made it clear that his mind was waging a war; he clearly desired you but also desired to not get caught.

You lifted your head to kiss him slow and pure of the mouth. His hands found your hips and held you close as he slowly explored you with his tongue.

“Every morning then,” you whispered to him.

“I can’t imagine you’d want me every morning.”

“I can’t imagine that I wouldn’t.”

Charlie chuckled and held you tight to him. The heat radiating off of his body warmed your heart, just another pleasant reminder of the closeness you two would be able to share so soon. You imagined walking around your new home naked for the majority of your first month together, just in awe of the fact that you got to see him, all of him, whenever you so wished it.

As his laughter subsided, you rested once more against Charlie’s sternum, allowing your cheek to enjoy the soft scrapping of his chest hair.

“Whatever you say, love,” he whispered against your hair before planting a kiss upon your brow. And within a minute, you felt his breathing even out and sleep find him, and you fell asleep soon after.

Your sleep was not nearly as restful as your partners. You had stopped by with the hopes of giving him some comfort and soon he had filled your mind with ideas about all the wonderful ways you might enjoy your freedom and privacy upon your graduation – images of a much more forward Charlie, leading you by the hand to your shared bed, worshipping your body with his own, showering you in kisses upon parts of your skin only he could see, making you come with him as the morning light broke through the trees, leaving you to feel the gentle ache and emptiness between your legs as you recovered throughout the morning.

And that was the thought you woke to in the darkness of the hospital wing. Charlie’s mouth was buried in your hair and he softly whispered your name, dreamily and slurred. His hips were rocking with a steady rhythm against your thigh in a way that let you know his dreams were not all that different from your own.

“Charlie,” you whispered, rubbing this hair from his eyes, the sweat sticking them to his forehead.

“Charlie.”

“Ba-by, that’s… it,” was all he managed as he squeezed tighter to your waist.

“So good. So perf–. Mine.”

He was fully erect against your rear, his length straining painfully against his boxers. You loved this man who was dreaming of you, whose fantasies were filled with his partner alone, and as your heart swelled, you realized it would be cruel to leave him in such a tortured state.

“Charles,” you said, hoping your irregular sound would jar him somehow. When he didn’t seem to stop his gentle rocking into you, you turned in his arms pressing your core against him and felt the jolt through your body at the sensual reminder of the kinds of pleasures that wonderful shaft of his could bring you.

“Ugh,” Charlie groaned, squeezing you more. You leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss, soft and sweet. He loved you, even in his dreams, and nothing felt more right and pure than that.

Charlie’s hand squeezed lightly at the flesh of your ass, and somehow, that little movement was enough to rouse him fully.

“Sweetheart?” he whispered as he rubbed his eyes.

You didn’t respond with words, instead kissing him once more, though this time with much more tongue, as you ground your body into his. His moans alone had turned you on quite a bit. This man would be your joy and your torture, so it seemed.

His hands found your hips to help you in your motion. You were straddling him fully now as you lost yourself in your kisses, a sloppy, sleepy make-out, so different from the normal control Charlie maintained. His length ran against you, finding home against your core underneath your school skirts, pressing into your panties and sliding between your folds in a deliciously tempting way. He was like stone for you and your body could do nothing but crave him.

You pushed yourself down hard on him and he groaned against you mouth, biting at your bottom lip. His breathing was staggered and he was heated all over. You wanted to strip him more to relieve him of his burning but there was nothing more to remove but the thin piece of silky cloth that alone was providing you with any semblance of self-control.

“Love,” Charlie said against your mouth, encouraging you to pull away from just a second, “Would you still consider yourself a naughty bitch?”

Charlie didn’t need to clarify. His fingers were dancing low between your thighs, having slid from your hips to tease at the lining of your panties, already soaked for him.

Holding his gaze, you reached your hand back to grab at his shaft. He bit his lip, suppressing a needy moan. And that was all the encouragement you needed to pull him from the confines of his boxers. His fingers danced against your core as he shifted the small fabric that had hid your entrance from him. Together, looking solely at your other, you each shifted so your bodies would meet. And with a hard push from your hips, Charlie’s tip found home inside of you.

“Fuck,” he whisper-yelled against his pillow. He quickly looked back at you. “So good,” he added, “You’re perfection.”

Even just his bulbous tip instead of you was enough to begin to relieve that aching need in your core. He stretched you so gently, filled you in a way that only he could, and even though the painful longing was reduced, it was quickly replaced with a rather carnal desire to drain him of everything he had to give you.

With a wicked smile upon your lips, you held his shoulders and rolled your hips down, taking the length of him into you in a single thrust. You couldn’t suppress the groan as your eyes rolled back with pleasure as he bottomed out inside of you. Part of you seriously mourned that inch of him that never got to know you intimately, that poor little bit of his shaft that simply couldn’t fit, not until his final push where he would bury himself full in you to sputter to orgasm. You wanted all of him.

Charlie pulled you down so you were chest to chest, taking over the work of the slow and calculated thrusting that left you dizzy. He was making quick work of bringing you to orgasm, strong thrusts the continuously stroked your just right, the soft roll of his hips that rubbed your clit against his pelvic bone, and the gentle nipping of your ear and neck as he breathed you in. You were putty to him, to mold as he so fashioned, to heal his spirit as well as his body from the pain it had so endured.

As the sounds of his strokes inside of you, wet and persistent, grew louder to your ears, Charlie locked his arms around you and sat upright. You held tight to his shoulder to not lose your position, but Charlie had other plans. He lifted himself up on his strong thighs, holding you tightly to him so your legs had no choice but to fall back behind his back. You were now sitting upon his lap in the way school children might sit for story time, criss-cross apple sauce, but when he rocked his hips into you, you knew you were far from childish games.

“Oh, god,” was all you managed as you rested yourself in his arms. The new position was intimate, heavenly, to hold each other so close, the closest two humans could ever be, felt like the sort of promise you hoped you would exchange in much nicer clothes someday.

“The name’s Charlie, love. So sad you’ve forgotten,” he whispered in your ears as he continued to languidly explore you. You couldn’t help but laugh. He really was his father some days, though you didn’t really want to be thinking about that at the moment.

With your laughter, he picked up his pace and his hand began working the space in between you. Your nerves were on fire for him and as he touched and stroked that bundle at the top of your folds, you thought you would light up the both of you.

You screamed as you felt your body clenching down on him. Charlie had grown inside of you, so hard and full that you didn’t think you could fit him any more. It was torture so beautiful that nothing could ease your pain but your own release.

Charlie’s mouth captured your own to stifle the moans. His hand caressed your lower back, helping you to rock your hips into his cock and his hand so you might find your release even sooner. And with that movement, you did. You spasmed and clenched against him, enjoying the feel of your body trembling for the man you loved. He held you close and whispered into your ear that he loved you as you whimpered in your release. Waves of electricity rocked through you, each more pleasurable than the last, until your felt that joyous calm that Charlie’s strokes always provided.

A few more thrusts and Charlie was collapsed back against the pillows, his whole self finally home in your body, his head contracting with each wave of ejaculation that coated your insides. As he softened, you felt the new type of fullness of his seed inside of you, claiming you as his own. As even though you knew children were quite a number of years down the road for you, the idea that part of Charlie might live inside of you, a reminder of your coupling, was unreasonably pleasant.

“I agree,” Charlie whispered as he lifted your hips off of him, “You are indeed quite naughty.”

You giggled as Charlie handed you some tissues from his nightstand. He took a few himself and began the gentle process of cleaning up the sore parts of your body.

“It’s your fault for being so beautiful,” you said. You tossed the tissues off the bed and into the bin, and, after a moment, reached for your wand and transfigured the clump of tissues into a crumpled bit of parchment, eliminating any signs of your nighttime escapades.

“I’ve got bruises all over my body, I broke a rib, and I have a black eye. I’m not too beautiful at the moment, I’m certain.”

You looked up to assess your lover for the first time since the sun was just beginning to break through the clouds outside. His nose was quite dark, hiding the freckles you loved so much, and his eye was quite swollen and puffy. His hair was a mess of red curls, fallen from their normal ponytail and cascading in uneven segments around his head. He was a bit worse for wear, but he was still your handsome Charlie.

You kissed him once again. “Still beautiful.”

“And you are still delusional.”

You laughed as you lifted yourself from the bed and gathered your robes.

“Dorm will be waking soon. Gotta get back, love.”

Charlie began to nestle once more into the covers, the exhaustion of his injuries and of his orgasm coming together all at once. You finished your dressing at kissed him one more on the forehead. As you began to walk away, he caught your wrist. You turned to see his eyes open again, staring at you with all the love you knew you felt for him in return.

“One more month,” he said before kissing your palm.

“One more month.”

As you slipped out of the hospital wing, you looked once more upon his bed. Charlie was already sleeping once more, his arms thrown over his head and his broad chest rising and falling in peaceful slumber. Clearly the healing magic your lovemaking gave him was doing its worth.

You smiled and returned to your dorm, thinking about that simple sight and how lucky you’ll be when you get to see it each and every morning for the rest of your life together.

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt, @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books, @cutie-bug, @igotmadskills, @hazelandcoconuts, @yallgotkik

Harry Potter tags: @tessimagines, @0-lost-in-stereo-0, @whysoseriouspadfoot, @eldritchscreech, @luckyvirgo, @hellizhelusive2, @lexrius, @sapphireorchid, @amazingwonderlandnapkin

#harry potter #hphm #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #hphm imagine #hp hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley smut #smut #reader insert #ardentmuse almost 2k celebration #lexrius #lia talks

2K notes · View notes

ressyfaerie · 3 years

Note

Hello! I would like to request for some Rick x Michael nsfw, if that's possible! You decide how fare it can go (but the more the better lmao)!

I love this ‘hey Ressy I see that you write p0rn, can you write some nsfw about a literal pitcher and catcher?’

The answer is absolutely, anytime.

I haven’t thought about this ship, but I’ve read some stuff in the fandom so here I goooooo

Read more cause uh yeah-

Okay, I’ve finished reading and editing it, this is your warning.

THIS IS STRAIGHT UP P 0 R N. Not straight porn, v gay, like if I read any line from this fic in a church I would be set on fire, proceed with caution, if you are not of age, I will find where you live, and you will go to jail.

“That’s a nice new glove.”

Michael tossed a baseball in and out of a shiny new glove.

“It’s alright, They work better once they get used for a bit,” He continued to procrastinate while throwing the ball up in the air and catching it.

Rick watched Michael as he leaned back in the chair, balancing it on two legs, sliding back further each time he caught it.

“You’re going to fall if you keep doing that.” He smirked, waiting for it to happen.

“I’m not going to fall, and you know anything is better than training today.”

They had a long night last night, and work today just dragged on and on.

“Don’t stay up too late if you can’t handle it.”

Rick decided the chair squeaking was annoying him, so he grabbed the top of it and threw it on the ground, slamming the four legs on the ground.

“Hey! Watch it-” Michael expertly caught the ball in mid-air with his ungloved hand, “You kept me up.”

“If I recall it was you who was asking for it in the first place.”

The dirty blonde flicked the brim of his cap, “Wrong.”

The dark-skinned blader threw his hand down on the table, Michael didn’t even flinch, “I made you fit like that glove of yours.”

“They fit better when they’ve been well used-”

“Then you must fit really well.”

This was pretty standard foreplay for them. Who can get dominant enough to play top?

“Ugh! Is the day almost over!?” Michael whined.

Rick looked at his watch, “shifts not done yet pretty boy.”

“I’m not pretty, I'm manly. I miss the days we weren’t scientists-”

“When we could skip practice when we wanted? Before college?”

“I’m actually not done my college courses yet-” Michael shrugged his shoulders, knowing the long break he took put him behind Rick in his studies.

“But Judy still hired you- because you’re charming and pretty.” Rick grinned, purposely riling him up.

Michael shot him a glare he knew too well, “you keep calling me pretty- you can’t butter me up, I’m not being a catcher tonight.” He clapped his glove together, trying to intimidate his boyfriend.

Rick had one hand on the counter, and leaned into him. The dirty blonde’s attempt to intimidate had no effect on him.

Rick spoke first, “Who said anything about tonight?”

This was the first time Rick had genuinely caught him off guard in a long time, “Here?! In the lab?”

“Why not? In ten minutes no one will be around, we can lock the door, there’s a table right here.” He patted the plastic table beside them.

Michael shot him a sly expression, “if you want- but I’m not taking it, it’s your turn.”

Rick rolled his eyes, “You really think so?”

Michael grasped his tie and pulled it down, giving him a quick sweet kiss, “you changing up your wardrobe? Trying to look more professional?”

Rick nodded.

Michael continued his flirtations, “I’m going to break you in before my new glove- *pretty boy*.”

“Ew.” Rick threw disgust at the nickname.

“What? Can’t take what you dish out?”

Rick grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, “oh- you know I can.”

Michael tried to push himself off the chair to wrestle his boyfriend to the table, but Rick was much stronger-

They pulled and pushed each other for a moment, before their lips locked and they started viciously making out and swallowing tongues.

Suddenly, Michael was on his back on the table, and Rick was undoing his belt.

“What did I say? Don’t try to get all tough with me-” Rick could swear Michael tried to lower the pitch of his voice.

“You tryin’ to act tough?” Rick ripped his belt out of his belt loops, making a swish noise echo in the lab.

Michael reached up with his hand, grabbing Rick’s ponytail and pulling out his hair tie, “Yeah.”

He threw the hair tie across the room.

“Hey! I needed that-” Rick whined shoving his front in between Michael’s legs.

His silver hair hung down over his face, “Michael used his hands to push his long bangs behind his ears, “What are you going to do about it?”

Rick unzipped the zipper of his pants, sliding them off with much practice.

“Lots.”

“Hey-” Michael tried to sit up.

Rick used his forearm to shove him onto his back.

“I told you,” Michael hissed, “It’s your turn.”

“Is it?” Rick propped himself up on the table, balancing himself on his knees and pushing his boyfriend’s legs closer to his chest, “Then why are you like this?”

Michael cussed, he tried to wiggle out of his grip, but Rick had a solid grasp on his thighs.

“Mm!” Michael accidentally let the noise slip out, but only because Rick had shoved his hand against his throat-

Michael grabbed his tie pulling him close to kiss him again, then undoing the buttons of his dress shirt.

“Off, everything off, now-”

Rick threw his shirt in their ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Rick ripped off Michael’s letterman jersey and T-shirt.

The only thing left was the muscled blader’s pants.

Michael tapped his forearm, signaling to have him remove his hand from his neck he had put there after taking his shirt off, he gestured to his pants, “You take them off, and I’ll take off my boxers-”

“Sure- lube?”

“There are medical-grade packets in the cabinet- *for you*.” Michael gave him an intimidating stare.

Rick exhaled a strong laugh, he climbed off the table and removed his pants, at the same time, Michael took off his boxers, he slid himself to the edge of the table. Rick’s head was below him as he removed his last pant leg, Michael forcefully grasped the back of his hair and led him towards the extra hard gift he had prepared for him.

“Suck it.” He demanded.

“No problem,” the dark-skinned blader had no issue with it, instead he sounded excited.

He started slow, then fast, grasping the end of his shaft with a light squeeze.

His head bobbed up- and down, in well-practiced motions.

Michael let out low noises he knew Rick loved.

With one eye closed, Michael tried to keep his voice low, trying not to beg, “do the thing I like.”

Rick giggled with a mouthful, he hummed and let it hit the back of this throat, then using his index finger, he pressed on his entrance.

“Fuck!-” Michael’s legs shook a bit, he still didn’t want to be the one to take it tonight, but it was sounding better and better the more Rick toyed with him.

“You’re still catcher-” Michael managed to exclaim through hard breaths.

“Hmh…” Rick refused without taking his attention away from him.

“Okay, stop- Ah- I don’t want to cum yet-”

Obediently he sucked and slid off, licking his lips as he stood up to loom over him.

Rick kissed him passionately, reaching under his thighs and lifting him into the air with ease. He put him back down.

“It’ll be easier for you since you did it last night- but if you want me to, I can.” Rick started to suck and bite on his neck, at this moment, he wouldn’t stop for anything.

“I’ll do you- then you do me.” Michael had his eyes closed in complete euphoria.

Within minutes, Rick was prepped and ready to go, leaning over a chair holding on desperately praying it wouldn’t break under his boyfriend’s strong thrusts. Cursing and swearing was how Michael knew he liked it- so he kept going.

The chair was definitely bent now, who needs back support anyways?

“Uhn- Stop, I don’t want to finish now- I want to finish in you-” Rick begged.

Michael obeyed and pulled out confidently, and suddenly, Rick was overtop of him on the table.

In minutes, Michael was riding him as the plastic table groaned under their weight. Rick’s strong hands gripped his abdomen and thighs throwing him up and down in the air.

The blonde-haired baseball fanatic moaned unintelligible words, but Rick could just make out his name-

“Fuck!-” Michael screamed as he creamed. (lmao I had to)

Rick finished so hard he whimpered, Michael collapsed overtop of him, exhausted.

They both caught their breath, Rick combed his hand through Michael’s long hair and sighed with happiness.

Michael bent down to kiss him and feel up his chest, mouthing his first full sentence in hours.

“How was that?”

“Fucking amazing-”

8 notes · View notes

sanstropfremir · 3 years

Note

second part of that long ask from ur swf anon :)

after the main dancer was chosen for each class, they would complete the choreo and decide formations for their performances. one of the benefits of the main dancer was that they were always center. they also had the benefit of wearing more embellished clothing to stand out (most noticeable in x class, where rian the main dancer was wearing orange while everyone else was wearing green). here is the full list (mnet truly has the WORST camera angles, so i only included the full cam ver of the performances):

1. assistant class: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aF2evLz98h4&ab_channel=MnetTV

2. leader class: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=srjJzRVVmxc&ab_channel=CHANNIECHANNEL

the judges shared that even though no:ze was the main dancer/in the center/had the most shiny outfit, they didn't really see her. all the other dancers, in their opinion, stood out and overpowered her.

3. sub class: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mY_3E7W8v30&ab_channel=CHANNIECHANNEL

4. x class (i'm not sure what this class was called): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fC-_8fbn_s4&ab_channel=Whatthejess

judges shared that lip j was the stand out of this class. she's the girl on the far left at 0:36. (it was originally her choreo but rian was chosen as the main dancer so that's why she is credited.)

*i only included comments that were stand outs.

i'm not sure how much creative input the main dancers were given regarding stage design... they didn't show it in the episode so i'm assuming that mnet just told them to show up and perform (because like, the rainbow thing they shot at the end of the leader's performance seemed so random? it didn't match what they were doing). after each performance, the main dancers from each class were asked to pick someone who they thought was the worst dancer. in doing so, the person chosen would lose points for their crew.

judges also chose an mvp crew they thought were the best. prowdmon (monika + lip j + others [sorry i don't know their names. the show really only focuses on these two]) was selected and this gave them the advantage of choosing which crews went against each other in ep4. so, it wasn't a random lottery draw! in the episode, they only showed the part where prowdmon chose to go against wayb (context: no:ze, the main dancer from the leader class, chose monika as the worst dancer. and this made her mad so she was like we're going against wayb - no:ze's crew). i'm not sure why they didn't show how the other crews were paired up. because ya, coca n butter + hook is definitely an interesting match.

also like, wayb was eliminated from the show after ep4's mission.

and it seems like from here on out, there will be a mission each episode to determine who will be eliminated. i'm honestly not too sure. for their next mission, they're doing a mega crew mission and mnet doesn't really explain it; but it seems like each crew is doing a performance on a larger scale (with more members added to their crew). also, like mnet is ass and doesn't upload all the performances onto their channel..... they only upload the ones that were the most popular/had the biggest public reaction which is why i had a hard time finding the clips for the classes mission. hopefully they do from here on out.

another v long post. thank u again for reading and sharing ur thoughts! always love hearing them. (also, pls let me know if i'm oversharing. u mentioned not caring for the competitive nature and drama so i'm not sure if i was adding too much. there really isn't drama imo. mnet tries to do their best to edit and make it seem that way but when u watch the show, the girls truly root for each other and are friends.)

mnet truly has the worst camera angles i hate them so much. also why are they still streaming on a goddamn potato. the quality is SO bad i can barely see anything!! there's a lot of me complaining in this one i'm sorry in advance.

1. assistant class

i have to assume that whoever they chose as the main dancer is the one that stays in centre because i cannot tell from the clothing at all. i don't think she was a standout performer here, but also the camera and the fire effects are WAY too wild to actually get a good grasp on who even was the standout. i also have to assume that the dancers have no say in the design because design is not a big part of street dance and this kind of chaos screams m 'too-much-money-dont-know-how-to-use-it' net. they built this massive set, barely used it, and didn't leave enough room for the proper formation spacing!! ugh. i hope the judges actually got to see a locked off version of this without all that fire in front of the camera because if i were them i would be squinting down the end of my glasses like a grandma at the screen. that's what i was doing anyways but still.

2. leader class

i have to agree, i don't think noze stood out as the main dancer here. and geniunely i cannot tell that they embellished her costume more. like damn, that stylist took a masterclass in subtlety, because i was easily paying more attention to whoever was wearing those massive thigh high cutout garter stockings and woven bodysuit combo. i am assuming that the point of these challenges was probably to be noticed the most so that they can score points and pick who they went up against for the elimination round? i'm not entirely clear but my point remains; ngl i don't really like this method of creating performance because it means that no one is there to create a performance, yanno? troupe/group choreo like this thrives on teamwork to actually make it a good performance. i know it's a pretty classic method of weeding out people for auditions and stuff like that but personally i find it a wholly uncompelling viewing experience, especially when it's a fully produced stage like this. i know everyone very likely gets along behind the scenes but the incohesion of intent is very obvious. also what's up with the assistant class getting a massive set and the leaders getting a bunch of cars and some smoke pyrotechnics? i mean, i am glad they filmed it during the day, but i am confused by the disparity.

3. sub class

i wish i could describe how poorly mnet shot this. it's not a fucking mama stage, it's a dance stage!! we need to see the choreo properly!!!! and together!!! obviously i don't care about stitching together different takes for the final edit but just...not having a continuity at all in the choreo is a bit jarring. again, i am also not sure how one is supposed to evaluate how well these dancers did, because i can barely see what people are doing. or who the main dancers are. i know i'm railing a lot on mnet here but i can't give an accurate reading of the dancers because legitimately it is so hard to tell what's going on. if they want to bill this as a legitimate dance show, why are they shooting it like a kpop performance? the camerawork for kpop serves a specific function: to add to the visual spectacle and to highlight the idols' faces. you don't need either of those things for shoot choreography, so why do we keep getting closeups of dancers' faces? not that these dance videos aren't spectacle-y or fun, because they very much are, but they really suck at their one primary function, which is displaying the choreo.

4. x class

this is definitely the one where the camera work is the closest to what it should be, but then they go and fuck it up by adding rain! just the groundwater would have been fine, but noooo they had to add the extra rain so there would be extra water drops on the lens!! this is my favourite choreo of all four of these, i think there's the most cohesion and (excluding the rain) it's got a good mix of spectacle with the water and the blacklight and the right camera angles to show the choreo mostly well. i still don't understand why they cut in those sections that don't fit with the rest of the flow though. why. you could have one-taked this and it would have looked dope as fuck. i agree that lip j stands out the most, obviously it's her choreo so it's the best suited to her character and abilities.

---

if it wasn't a random lottery draw they should at least have the courtesy of showing people why who picked who!! that's the most interesting part! and i'm not that surprised about wayb being eliminated, prowdmon really stomped them into the ground with that revenge energy. i'm interested in this larger scale performances concept, because i'm not really sure what that looks like in this particular context. if they do end up on youtube i will review them! and you're not oversharing at all, the context is fine! i don't mind reading it as information, i just don't like actually watching it with my own eyes. i can't watch that kind of thing in reality tv because it makes me want to sit everyone down like a kindergarden teacher and go "ok, now why are we all yelling?". too many years of tense rehearsal conflict negotiation and i just want to whack everyone upside the head. it's not very cathartic for me lmao. i have no doubt that everyone is friends because dance scenes are small and i'm sure they've all worked together lots, but even just the editing sets off my fight or fight reflexes.

#street woman fighter #swf #swf reviews #yes i did mean fight or fight i have no flight reflex #i only know violence or advanced conflict management #go into theatre they said. costume design is fun they said #little did 18yro me know i was going to be yelling at actors for eating in costume and trying to convince directors out of stupid ideas #for 90% of my working hours #anyways swf anon i'm sorry this is mostly complaining and not really talking about the dancing #i will try to do more of that for the next episode #for a show supposedly about street dance there's not very much street dance? even the battles are kinda wonky #they dont follow the rules very well and theyre skewed waaaaayyyyyy more towards musicality/showmanship than technique #which is the opposite of how battles usually are graded. i know that it's likely because they don't have actual battle judges #(no disrespect to boa. but i don't think being a battle judge has been a career calling for her)#but its still a bit hmmm for me. i know the idols and the connection to the idol industry is probably what's bring in the views but #it is a very different industry than the street dance one #text #answers

2 notes · View notes

timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic · 4 years

Photo

Chapter 43 - Back In A New York - Er... Seattle Groove

New York City, New York June 29 2017

(Andi is 29, Chris is 52)

ANDI: The air was warm with the sun brightly shining, a perfect summer day for moving. Though this move is going to be a little bit longer than just your typical quick trip and done in a day. Chris is moving back to Seattle - with me of course - somewhere where he hasn't been in very long time. Obviously you all know that it's only been just over a month since I was there - if we are going by my time anyways - ugh, this thing that I have is never easy to explain.

Chris had put the house up for sale as soon as he signed the divorce papers from Vicky. Within a day, he had already received an offer and they were willing to give him a little more than he was asking in order to secure the sale. I mean I don't blame them one bit, it's a beautiful home. Chris accepted and so we pretty much began packing as soon as it was finalized, though there wasn't much in the home to pack. It was basically all of Vicky's left over stuff and a few things of Chris's. Obviously nothing of mine except for the 3 guitars that he had saved over the years.

I don't know what it is though, but I just have this really strange feeling that all of this shouldn't be happening so smoothly. As much as I know that he isn't with Vicky anymore - I mean I saw him sign the divorce papers right in front of me - I just can't shake this strange feeling that it's not supposed to be this easy.

"Ok I think... we've got everything. Here is the address and uh, we'll see you in a couple of days," Chris says as he hands the driver of the moving company some cash then they both sign the delivery and insurance papers.

"No problem, thank you," The driver says as they shake hands, then climbs up into the large moving truck. Chris turns and flips those gorgeous curls out of his face and walks back over to me.

"Ok babe, you ready?" Chris smiles at me, standing in his slim fitted ripped up jeans with the cuffs rolled up over his Doc's and a plain dark grey t-shirt.

"Yea I think so," I exhale, pushing my curls behind my ear, squinting my eyes from the sunlight as I look up at him.

"Alright, road trip time," He says and leans down placing a quick kiss on my lips, then heads over to his 1969 Jet black Dodge Challenger. I smile as I head over to the passenger side, opening the door and sliding into the black leather seat, feeling the heat on the back of my bare thighs. I smooth out my ripped jean cutoff shorts and buckle my seatbelt, adjusting my off-the-shoulder White Zombie - La Sexorcisto tour shirt from '94.

"So when's our flight again?' I ask flipping my dark curls out of my face, leaning back as I glance at him.

"What flight?" Chris asks as he starts the engine.

"Um... I thought we were moving to Seattle - back home to Seattle... right?" I chuckle.

"We are... I never said we had plane tickets though," He says as he pulls out of the driveway for the last time.

"Wait... you're gonna drive us all the way to Seattle?" I ask furrowing my brow for a moment as he drives us down the road towards down town.

"Yea baby, why not?" He smiles at me for a second then turns his attention back to the road.

"Chris, it's like a 2 and a half day drive,"

"Uh huh... and...?" He says as we pull up to a stop light. I glance out the windshield and then back at him, trying to see if he was serious or not, though my bets are pretty much on the former.

"Most of my clothes are pack in the U-Haul truck that already left though," I say.

"Nope, I grabbed the last couple of suitcases that had our clothes in them and packed them in the trunk," He says as the stop light turns green and start moving again.

"Oh... ok... " I trail off for a moment looking back out the windshield.

"What? You don't wanna spend 2 more days on the road with me? " He smirks at me raising his eyebrow.

"No, no it's not that... I just wasn't expecting you to drive us there," I giggle and he smiles at me.

"Well it's been a long time since we took a road trip - that wasn't touring around with the band and well because of what happened- so I thought maybe we could check out some places, do a little sight seeing, y'know... just me and you," He says sweetly.

"Ok sure, that's perfect actually," I smile at him and he reaches over and takes my hand in his, placing his lips to the back of my hand like he always does.

"Can I put on some tunes?" I ask after a few moments, pushing my curls behind my ear as Chris changes lanes.

"No," He says flatly then looks over at me with a smirk. I pat him lightly on his bicep and chuckle, then reach for my phone and connect to the Bluetooth stereo system that was upgraded in the dashboard. I scroll through the Spotify Music app, find some Aerosmith and play the Album 'Get A Grip'

'Wake up kid, it's half past your youth Ain't nothin' really changes but the date You a grand slammer, but you no Babe Ruth You gotta learn how to relate Or you'll be swingin' from the pearly gate Now you got all the answers, low and behold You got the right key baby but the wrong key hole, yo'

I sing - or sorry 'rap' - along with Steven Tyler, closing my eyes and getting right into it as Chris starts laughing.

"Babe you are so cute," He laughs.

"Nah, I just love that part" I giggle as I look down at my phone for a moment.

"I know, that's what makes you so cute," He says sweetly with his blue eyes glancing over at me, and I feel my cheeks flush. Funny how after all this time, he can still make me blush and feel those butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

" I remember when you met Steven for the first time with me at the... what was it... the '94 MTV awards or something - ?" He says thoughtfully.

"Oh my god Chris, no, I'd really rather not remember that," I laugh embarrassingly.

"What-Why? It was adorable, -" He laughs.

"No Chris, How was that adorable? I literally like... fell into him," I gesture with my hands remembering the after party when I apparently had a little too much to drink and lost my footing when I stepped forward to shake his hand and tripped. Chris caught me of course but I was mortified the entire night. I was able to make light of the situation after but honestly, it wasn't my finest moment. If I could've pick a moment to time travel, that would've been the perfect moment so that I could re-do it and not be so embarrassed.

"It was just a little stumble, it wasn't as bad as you think it was... I just remember the look on your face, you were so cute," He chuckles.

" I remember trying to basically hide behind you the whole night after. I'm such a klutz. It was Steven fucking Tyler... like my god," I shake my head at myself.

"You were always so hard on yourself...you still are. I think that's what made me fall in love with you though. You never give up even though you feel like it and just... how you cope with the fact that you can't control... y'know.... and how you are always the first person I could run to when I was - or am - finding it hard to go on, 'cause I'm so hard on myself too," He glances back at me, his blue eyes catching mine and I give him a small smile as I lean my head against the seat while his gorgeous dark curls rest at his shoulders, his beard now fuller than before as he decided to grow it a little.

Fuck, he's so sexy

"That, and you were so fucking gorgeous when you showed up in my bathroom that I didn't know what to do. You scared the shit outta me," He adds as he returns his focus to the road and changes lanes again.

"Scared the shit outta you? Fuck I mean, I knew someday I was gonna meet you when you were 15 but I didn't think it was gonna be like that," I giggle.

"You know I am still so sorry I came at you with a bat... even though that was what... 30-something years ago? " He says thoughtfully with a chuckle. "Fuck I'm old..."

"Chris, you're not old. I love you, and you are still the same to me," I say as I reach over and begin to play with his curls, running my fingers through, then gently play with his earlobe. He turns, placing a kiss on my palm then quickly focuses back on the road.

After about 45 minutes, we finally make our way to downtown New York in which the city was absolutely buzzingly busy. I still was not used to the crazy crowds of people but at least I can say that I lived in New York City even if it was only for a little while. Driving down on of the main streets, Chris decides to pull off into one of the public parking spots which left me a bit confused as to what we were doing.

"I just have to make a stop in Guitar Center, wanna come in with me?" He asks noticing my confused look as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

"Um... Hello, do you know who you're asking here?" I ask as I unbuckle my seat belt and he laughs as I step out of the car. It had been a while since I was in a Music store so of course I didn't mind going in and looking at all the new pretty things.

Chris makes his way around to my side of the car and with a sweet smile on his face, takes my hand in his. We then take a walk from the parking lot down the street to Guitar Center.

Stepping inside Guitar Center is like stepping into a world that is full of shiny beautiful things. Beautiful guitars line the illuminated walls around the store, amps and accessories staged in various places, I swear I'm like a kid in a candy store. I just want everything.

"Hey Chris, how are ya?" A guy with long black hair, straighter than anything, wearing a white dress shirt and tie with black jeans and Doc's calls out to him. He sort of looked a bit like David Wyndorf from Monster Magnet but not flashy like the 'Space Lord' video.

"Hi, good, I'm good, did my order for that effects pedal...." Chris smiles, his voice fading away as I slowly let go of his hand and walk over to the wall of guitars. I can't help it, they are all so beautiful. I continue on while I hear them talk glancing at each Fender Strat, Rickenbacker, Washburn, you name it. I wish I could describe the feeling of seeing them all hung up with their own spotlights waiting for the perfect person to discover what they can do.

Then I see it. The one that suddenly makes my heart all fluttery. An emerald green flame top Gibson Les Paul. It is absolutely gorgeous.

"...alright well good luck in Seattle and uh, if you need anything when you're in New York just give us a shout,"

"Thanks man, I will," Chris says as he walks over to me, placing his hand on the small of my back and following my gaze to the beautiful guitar on the wall. "See something you like?"

"Uh huh," I say, trying to not let my jaw drop to the floor.

"Hey, uh... can we see that, Gibson up there?" Chris turns and calls out to the store rep.

"No Chris, it's ok - " I start but I'm cut off by the David Wyndorf look alike.

"Sure, we actually just got that in yesterday," He says walking over with a reaching contraption to take it down off the hanger. I furrow my brow for a moment but I couldn't take my eyes off the emerald green coloring and how it meshed so well into the finish. He then hands it towards Chris but Chris refuses.

"No sorry, it's for my wife,"

The David Wyndorf look alike raises his eyebrow for a moment and looks at me and I couldn't tell if it was because it was Chris said I'm his wife or because I play. I smile shyly at him and push my curls behind my ear and he sweetly hands it over to me.I glance behind me and see a stool with a little amp that people use for testing. I then sit down and plug in the patch cord and adjust the volume and effects knobs on the amp, and rest the guitar across my lap.

As soon as I start to play, I am instantly in love. the way it feels in my hands, the neck doesn't feel too think, the frets are at the perfect width... the strings kinda suck but I can always change them.

Oh my god I love this thing.

I stop playing for a moment and look up to see Chris looking down at me with such a cute smile on his face. I clear my throat and try to seem like I'm not completely in love with this guitar, but I think Chris knows that I am. He's seen this look on my face before.

"We'll take it," Chris says to the guy.

"Chris no, it's ok," I say as I suddenly feel weird about him buying me guitar. I mean it isn't the first time he's bought one for me,but this is seriously expensive.

Ugh, but I do love it so much though.

"Babe are you kidding? The look on your face, I know you want it," Chris says to me as the David Wyndorf look alike walks away to the front desk to prepare the guitar, by grabbing the case that comes with it.

"Chris, it's a 4000 dollar guitar. I love it but, this is too much," I say quietly as I reach out for his hand and pull him closer to me. The last time he bought one for me it was maybe under 1000. I know it's 2017 now and I get the cost of inflation, but this seems a little too much to me.

"No baby it isn't too much... c'mon," Chris smiles sweetly at me and helps me up from the stool. With the beautiful guitar in my hand, I unplug it and walk with him over to the counter register while the loo alike rings up the guitar. Chris takes the guitar from me and hands it over to him gently while I glance over the accessory display and pick out some new strings. It's been so long since I've had a new guitar and though I still feel a little uneasy about him spending this much money on me, I really, really love that guitar.

Once everything was rung through - Chris with his new pedal and I with my new guitar - we head out of the store and back to the car. Once I place the guitar in the back seat, I slide into the passenger side as Chris starts up the car and we head back out on the road, making our way through the rest of downtown New York. Everyone and a while I glance back in the backseat admiring the leather guitar case, knowing that emerald green beauty is safe inside and try to resist the temptation to play it until we get to Seattle. Or at least a hotel along the way.

"Thank you," I say quietly still looking at the guitar case in the back seat as we finally make it onto the highway.

"For what?" Chris smiles at me glancing quickly at me then back to the road.

"For the guitar, and for... well... everything," I say still looking at the guitar as Chris glances at me again. I then look back at him and he reaches over to me cupping my cheek in his palm and I lean into his palm closing my eyes, catching the fresh scent of his cologne.

"You don't have to thank me babe. I love you," He says glancing back at the road and then back at me. "And I always loved that look on your face when you would get excited over a new guitar - I still do," He adds chuckling.

"I love you too," I say as he slides his palm from my cheek and I take his hand, placing a kiss on the back before he places it back on the steering wheel, then I glance back at the beauty in the backseat.

"Me? Or the Guitar?" He smirks and I laugh as we head down the highway.

#time travel #Time After Time #alternate universe #fantasy #soundgarden #chris cornell #chris cornell fanfiction #soundgarden fanfiction

24 notes · View notes

starkaer · 4 years

Text

it’ll last longer.

my @starkerkink prompter was @demons-sing-me-to-sleep, and i choose the third prompt. this was both all of the place and so much fun to write! hope you like it, though i didn’t manage to fit as many of your kinks as i’d like to. i might post it on ao3 later, but here we go!

tags: underage (peter is sixteen), incest, unnegotiated kink, mildly dubious consent, exploration of kink(s), unbetaed bc i’m a mess tm.

Nice! Peter will have the whole Stark Tower for himself, for more than a couple of days, for the very first time in his sixteen years. He had plans of inviting over Ned for the whole weekend, maybe bringing over Liz or Harry to try and impress them - maybe even invite that cute pizza boy in and let the things he saw online become reality. But, on the first day, he is going to do what he had been wanting to do for oh-so-longnow.

The tv in his room is indeed huge and he would never complain about it, but nothing could ever compare to the one in the living room. 4k porn. God, he is going to be living the teenage dream. Computer on the coffee table, a towel on his side, clothes not even on after the shower a couple of hours ago.

God, he is actually feeling nervous! He sighs to get the anxiety out, and gets to work. Connects the two screens, opens the secret folder he had put a password on, finds that nearly 3gb sized file (one of the ones he downloaded when he learned his dad had a meeting out of the state), and waits a few seconds for the show to start.

And then it started. A redhead twink, laying on a bed, flipping over a random comic book, only wearing the skimpiest of red speedos. He’s already so damn hard, and the muscled step-dad wasn’t even on the screen yet- oh, there he was. Bulging muscles, skin a dark-ish shade of golden, eyes clearly hungry.

That went on for nearly two hours, Peter stroking himself to the cliff but making sure to never fall in, since he wanted to enjoy as much of this as possible. He had watched all the highest quality porn he managed to download, but maybe he was in the mood for something new.

Maybe some amateur videos? Those typically had great positions. Or perhaps one of the spanking ones? He liked the whimpers from those, they did great things for him.

But then his eyes set down on something else, and his finger doesn’t take long to follow. A few seconds, and there were two men on his screen, the lighting not good enough for him to make every single detail out, but he didn’t mind. He knows very well what happens.

“Do you like that, Stark? Like a big man destroying your ass?”

That first line almost did push him down the cliff, his hand flying away from his pulsing red cock in order to avoid it; now it was becoming almost a game. That man was Steve Rogers, one of his father’s most long-lasting boyfriends, he later learned.

“Yeah, please, ruin me, sir! Fuck me until I can’t walk, please!”

That second line almost pushes him down the cliff, and his hand was still away from his pulsing red cock. That begging whore was his dad, he thought with a smirk, and his dick twitched in response.

Two videos later, his dad has two men deep in both of his holes, one with the best dirty talk of all the sextapes and the other with the longest dick he had ever seen. The moans his dad was making was unholy at best, and he knew this was going to be it - it was the last one, and he barely lasted through the one before with the long-haired one, the most brutal one who got Tony nearly in tears with his pounding.

Oh, it was coming! Oh, he was coming! This is-

“Peter, what the fuck is that?!”

Peter loves horror games, even liked the ones with the cheesy jumpscares - they got the adrenaline flowing, it was fun. But none of those ever made him jump quite as much as he did when his father’s voice came from behind him instead of from the screen.

He shoves his finger on the computer’s button so fast one would think he has superpowers, but it was clearly long past that point. “Hey, dad, you’re, um- You’re not supposed to be home.” His heart keeps drumming on his ears and brain, as he tries to cover his junk.

“What the fuck are you watching Peter? Why?! Why would you watch that, that’s-”

“I know! I know, dad, I know, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry-”

If whoever was that cold man had his father nearly in tears of pleasure, his father had him apologetically bawling on the floor. All it took was the slight tone of disgust on Tony’s voice to get him sobbing, begging for forgiveness. He was disgusting, and he knew it. All he could do is hope his dad would see how truly sorry he was, and maybe put him in a mental hospital, so those gross thoughts could go away and he could be a normal person, a normal teenager.

“Pete, don’t- don’t cry, it’s- It’s okay, it’s okay... You were just curious, that’s all, it’s okay, come here...” Oh, he was very much not just curious. That was nothing on those videos for him to be curious about anymore, he knew every detail very fucking well - but it felt so great to be hugged and apparently forgiven by his dad, he wouldn’t mind if that’s what Tony would have to believe in order to forgive him. “I just hate those videos, but you did nothing wrong, okay? I shouldn’t ever have filmed them, but that’s not on you.”

It took more ten or fifteen minutes of calming and soothing and tranquilizing for him to say anything. And, if he had his mind in place, those probably wouldn’t be his first words.

“Why do you hate them, though?” Head on his father’s lap, feet hanging off the couch in misery, it takes some seconds for him to get a response from above.

“They just don’t represent me well, I guess. Or at all, really.” There’s a good-humored tone to it, but then it gets a bit more serious. “I just... Now I just relate more to the other man, y’know?”

“You’re a top now, that’s what you’re saying?” The question is genuine, but not even Peter himself can’t help but laugh along with his dad when he realizes how simplified it was.

“I guess there’s also that, but...” The man takes a long breath, his face clearly showing he is trying to pick just the right words. “The thing is that... The things those men said to me... Now I prefer to say than to hear them. You know what I mean?”

“So... You’re a dominant, is that it?” There could have been some laughing again, since it was also apparently simplifying Tony’s answer, but the man just stared at him for a few seconds, almost admiring his words.

“Well, yeah... I didn’t know you knew what a dominant is, but yeah, that is what I mean, I guess. But also I’m just a very different person overall.”

“How do I know what I am?”

“Well...” There are butterflies in his stomach, and he tries not to think about how good his father’s thighs are as pillows. “When you watched those videos, did you like to hear what those men said? Do you, well, wish they were being said to you?”

Cheeks turn bright red immediately. “Yeah.” It’s almost nothing, and his dad has to make a questioning sound to get a clear and louder version. “I think I did, yeah.”

“Well, that means you’re probably a submissive. But, like I said, those things can change with time. I used to enjoy those things being said to me, but now I prefer to say them. You’re too young to know for sure what you prefer, anyway, Pete.” He hopes ‘those things can change with time’ would include his taste for his own father’s sex-tapes.

“I’m really sorry, dad. I should never have watched them.”

“It’s okay, Pete, it’s okay. You’re a kid, you’re supposed to be curious about that kind of stuff. Do you... Do you have any other questions about them?”

“When was the one with uncle Bruce filmed? And who was the long-haired dude?”

“Oh, you do. Was hoping we could wrap things up. Okay, um...” He motions to Peter to get up, which he does, sitting on the couch like his father, heart beating fast.

“The one with uncle Bruce… Do you like that one?” He shyly nods, feeling even more gross, but...

But, ugh, that one was definitely his favorite one. He loved when those men called his dad the filthiest names - but that one was completely different, and so much better. Tony sets up the camera, eyes dark in lust and smirk on his lips, then turns on his back and drops to his knees and sucks Bruce dry. Once, twice, thrice, in twenty minutes. The simple image of the man adjusting his glasses while looking down to his father, shaking and trembling and whimpering for some reason, had powered many of his late-night jack offs.

His father lets out a long breath, but Peter can’t tell if it’s good or bad. The thought of ‘is he disgusted again?’ nearly brings tears to his eyes.

“Yeah, that is indeed a good one...” Like they’re talking about pizza toppings, not the man’s own sex-tapes. His dick is spasming and growing and redning, and he wonders if his father’s eyes are actually going from his face to his cock or if that’s his horny, gross imagination. “Do you know why uncle Bruce was crying like that?”

After some moments of nervous silence, he shakes his head, swallowing hard and waiting to see what his father is up to. “Do you want to find out?”

There’s another nod, but never a sound — Peter's mind is turning on itself, really. It hits him: his father, at that moment, was hitting on him. Without a doubt. And, with that question, his cock can’t get any harder. The image of him trembling and moaning while Tony works on his cock like the hungriest, meanest slut hits him like a truck, turning his cheeks bright red.

“Say it, then. Say that you want daddy to suck you off.”

Despite the request of a confirmation still in the air, his father is sliding down to his knees, and he can’t breathe for a second. He doesn’t say it, but he spreads his legs. He doesn’t say it, but he bites his lips. And then he says it, voice shaking more than uncle Bruce. “I want daddy to suck me off, please.” The ‘please’ was out of habit, and he would have laughed for it, if his father wasn’t about to give him the very first blowjob of his life.

His dick was standing nearly straight by now, hardened by his father’s words, and yet Tony’s big hand wrapped around it like it was a pencil. It was so agonizingly slow, but oh so fucking good. Up and down, up and down, always with a twist of his wrist — he wasn’t sure if he was wanting to scream in pleasure because it was someone else, or because it was his father, or really just because that technique was better than his basic quick-up-&-down-strokes-until-he-cums one. Probably all three.

Some more seconds of only masturbating, and his father’s lips were approaching his crotch. Tender kisses to his thighs, which felt both burning erotic and way too intimal (like when a whore has sex, but doesn’t kiss a client), and his father’s eyes are staring into his soul, but he doesn’t pay it much attention. He can deal with his soul later.

“Should I talk like them?” It clearly takes a few seconds for Tony to understand, and he’s scared he’s ruined the moment. “The men, on the videos?” And his father looks up to him, grinning like the devil.

“No...” A long, wet, epically slow lick to his cockhead has him squiming his hips forward for more, but his father doesn’t allow it. “But tell me, Pete, do you want daddy to make this little dick of yours warm?” Oh. That’s right. He was Tony in the videos, and Tony were those men. So he was the little whore, the cockhungry slut, and the fucking faggot — even if he was the one being sucked off. And that thought almost made him cum on the spot.

He didn’t know if Tony would wait for his confirmation this time, but he gave it immediately, nodding quickly, eyes closed in desperation and need. And so, he can’t see when his dad places his mouth around his throbbing dick, but he lets out a moan nearing a scream, and the edge is so close.

The mouth worked up and down his shaft, making lewdy, wet sounds all the way, and Peter looks to the edge he’s being pushed to. This feels so good, he doesn’t want to fall in yet. “Yeah, oh, dad…” He wasn’t required to make those noises, they come from somewhere between his very soul and his genitals.

But it doesn’t last one minute, and he’s being pushed off the edge, falling into the delicious, bright abyss, and screaming all the way down. When he opens his eyes, Tony's face is painted with his seeds, and seeing that is a thousand times hotter than watching any of those videos could ever be. In fact, one second of that blowjob was hotter than any of his thousand hours of jerking off to those videos.

“Oh, that was a lot, Pete.” He could get hard just from watching his father cleaning his hand, sucking the cum out of his fingers like it’s vanilla ice cream. Like giving his kid a blowjob is just his thursday.

“Yeah, I was, uh- I was jerking off for, like, two hours before, so, yeah, that’s why.” He wants to ask if that, the blowjob, will ever happen again (and also why dad isn’t cleaning his face), but knows he shouldn’t. This shouldn’t have happened, but he is so glad it did. “DAD, AH!”

Tony is back to sucking; and, instead of the blessing that was falling from that cliff, he’s falling from grace. It’s burning and cramping and hurting, and he is shaking and trembling and whimpering. Exactly like uncle Bruce.

“Please, dad, ah! It hurts, please!” It seems the more he tries to squirm away, the harder Tony sucks — for one second it hits that, perhaps, he is indeed sucking harder the more he struggles, perhaps he likes him to struggle, but that thought won’t make the cramps stop, so it’s of no real use for him. “Please, daaad!”

But, both as sudden as a lightning and as smooth as a cloud, the anguish leaves, and he is welcomed with another hard-on, and his hurt twitching and whimpering turns into jerking and asking for more. He now opens his eyes, but the sight of his father in his knees, looking deep into his eyes with a pulsating cock in his mouth takes all of his air away, so he closes them again.

He feels proud of passing the one minute mark, but it’s just some more minutes until the gagging sounds and the slick warmness take him down the marvelous cliff once again. There’s more of his semen on his dad’s face, but it seems like just when he's done squirting cum out, he’s falling from Mount Olympus for the second time, and it might be worse.

The cramps return with all force, drowning him in ache, all throughout his legs and his wrists and his elbows — and he can’t wait for the sweet release of sudden pleasure, but it doesn’t seem to be coming. He gives in to begging, “Dad, dad, please stop, please, ah!” And it still doesn’t come for what feels like days on end.

There’s tears falling down his cheeks, and he is grabbing the couch so hard it might break his fingers. His cock is getting hard again — but none of the sweet pleasure that came the first two times hits him, the cramps never go away. He continues to beg and cry and ask, until he comes again, and this time he realizes no more jizz really comes out. He doesn’t even open his eyes, waiting for the ache again, until his father speaks.

“Already dry, kid?” That’s when he allows himself to wake up, and is faced with the man’s face covered in his own cum. There’s quite a nice amount on his forehead and his right cheek. His nose, left cheek and goatee also have some of his liquid, and he thinks one of the eyes is red-ish, so he guesses some landed on there too. “Wanna clean me up or should I?”

He gives no response, breathing deeply from both relief and tiredness. His eyes are starting to weigh, and Tony must have taken it as a no. If he wasn’t so done with the cliffs and the edges for tonight, the sight of his father brushing his cum to his mouth and licking his lips and fingers clean of it like it’s vanilla — that would definitely get him hard. “You know why uncle Bruce was like that?”

Just a tired nod, and he’s dozing away. “You were even prettier than him...”

Just a warm smile, and he’s nearly gone. “Hope you don’t mind me recording it...”

Just a pair of closing eyes, and he’s done, but- “Maybe later I’ll explain the Bucky one to you…”

#starkerkink2020 #starker #starkercest #ironspider #my writings.#my stuff.

23 notes · View notes

peterthepark · 5 years

Note

Can you write HC of “borrowing” Steve clothes?

i need a bf to steal clothes from again smh, preferably someone like steve lmao enjoy 🤠

Stealing His Clothes

Steve Harrington x Reader

it happens more than often

steve will look into his closet and then suddenly a quarter of his clothes are missing

his first thought is that dustin stole another one of his cool shirts and he’s about to go after the kid

but then you’re waltzing into his room

with his shirt on

you’re super casual about it and honestly steve doesn’t hate the idea of you in his clothes

he LOVES it

“that’s my shirt?”

“yeah... problem?”

and he finds it so fitting on you

it reaches up to mid-thigh because steve is a couple inches taller than you and it’s almost like a dress (unless you’re really tall then it fits just right for your body)

steve likes seeing you in his clothes now

sometimes you steal his gym shorts from when he played basketball because they are comfy

and he loves how nice it looks on your ass and your thighs and your hips and uGh he’s horny now

he finds it the cutest when he catches you sleeping with his clothes

when it’s winter, a lot of his jackets and hoodies go missing

“Y/N, you’re gonna make me freeze to death. half of your closet is my stuff.”

“okay, then borrow my clothes?”

he actually thought you were serious

“steve, have you seen my black-“

he’s wearing your black sweatshirt as soon as he walks into your room

“dude.”

“it’s revenge, princess.”

and it becomes a recurring joke to steal one another’s clothes

steve takes the joke a little too far and literally raids your closet

and by raid i mean that everything is gone

“steve! how am i supposed to go out! i can’t show up like this!”

you’re literally in a bra and underwear and you’re trying so hard not to laugh

but steve is dying

rolling on the actual floor

“baby, just go out naked. i mean, who needs clothes anyways, right? when they’ve got a body like yours?”

“steve harrington.”

“we can hang out here instead. since you don’t have clothes. you know what? ill do you one better. how about we both don’t wear clothes for the whole day and we can stay here in your bed?”

cheeky idiot

off topic but

one time steve stole one of your red bras during halloween

because he wanted to dress up as a damn MOSQUITO

he tapes it over his eyes and boom suddenly he’s a mosquito

“babe. babe. look. buzz.”

there’s something about your boyfriend and his mosquito jokes jfc (reference to one of my fics, if you know which u a real one)

anyways

steve seriously doesn’t care about you taking his clothes

like actually

“Y/N, you can have my whole damn closet. as long as you’re happy and warm and comfy.”

so sweet

583 notes · View notes

itsblissfuloblivion · 4 years

Text

Torch - Chapter 6: February

writing block isn't fun when you're supposed to publish on a schedule, that much i can tell you.

please enjoy - we've listened to you all and sprinkled in some good ol' fluff :)

find it on AO3 and FFnet as well

He only wants to talk to her. He wants it so badly, can’t they see how much he needs it?

Can’t they move out of his way? There are so many of them flooding the corridors, all of Hogwarts at once, keeping him away from her.

And Ginny’s calling him from the other end of the corridor, and Harry tries so very hard to remember the ‘three Ds’ of Apparition and magically transport himself to her, so hard that his scar prickles and Hermione tuts and tells him he should have paid better attention to Twycross the day before.

But Hermione turns into Ginny in the time it takes him to blink and now they are in the Common Room, lounging on the couch, blissfully alone. She is maddeningly close to him and Harry wants to kiss her like he’s never wanted anything in his life.

His lips are nearly onto hers, their arms and legs tangled together, her robes disappearing on their own -

“Harry James Potter, what are you doing to my daughter?” Mrs Weasley screams from the fireplace, her face screwed with rage.

Harry wants to say he did nothing, they were doing nothing, but Ron Apparates over them, making himself cosy on the couch between Harry and Ginny.

“How’s your three Ds, mate? Mine are bloody brilliant! You’ll never Apparate until you accept the D,” Ron is telling him smugly.

“Yes, how is your D, Harry?” Ginny’s giggling, now irritatingly overdressed, a pair of Hagrid’s fluffy earmuffs on her head and what looks like Ron’s Yule Ball ensemble of frilly robes on her.

“You’ll never see my daughter naked!” Mrs Weasley wags her finger in Harry’s face, shouting at him with a hand on Ginny’s shoulder, as Ron keeps talking about Apparition and Ginny laughs so hard she starts crying.

“Your D, Harry, your D,” Ginny dissolves into another fit of laughter, pointing a finger at his lap.

Before Harry could look down and feel even more mortified, if that’s even possible, something hard hits his head.

Suddenly and confusingly, Harry wakes up, his eyes losing focus as he rubs at the side of his rumpled head.

“Mate, you keep waking me up,” Ron grumbles, leaning over him to retrieve his pillow and plopping right back into his bed.

Harry swallows hard and privately wonders whether he’d let anyone in on what his dream was about, then turns on his side and concentrates on drifting back to sleep - sans mad dreams this time if anyone cares even remotely for his sanity.

____

To Harry, it feels like the month drags on without ever ending. Quite frankly, he feels personally attacked by all the dating invitations flying about, people confessing their love to each other, holding hands and playing footsie under the breakfast table. Ugh, gross.

It’s hard enough that no one believes him yet whenever he’s bringing up Malfoy and his evilness, not even after Harry’d told them what that sleazeball was bragging about to Crabe, for crying out loud. Not even the Prince, who seemed to have an answer to anything and was definitely Harry’s mental and emotional comfort lately, held a solution to Harry’s small not-being-taken-seriously problem.

And then there’s Ginny: walking out of the locker room shower only wrapped in a towel, stretching in her Quidditch gear, playing with her hair while she studies. It’s like she knows what she’s doing to him but pretends she doesn’t.

But how can she not know? It’s a miracle Ron hasn’t noticed yet, the little flirty jokes swapped between Harry and Ginny during practice, his eyes glued to her as she laughs loudly and shows off her prowess on the broom, his intense, burning blush when they have to change back into their robes and he tries incredibly hard not to peek over at her.

Harry actually feels like a lascivious old man most of the times or whenever he catches himself staring intently at her bum when she flies or walks or simply exists.

Is this really a life worth living?

Harry’s really tired of self-pity, but then again what else can a bloke in his place do? He’s stuck in limbo with his feelings as long as Ginny’s still with Dean. And who knows if she’ll still like him when she’ll stop being with Dean anyway?

Perhaps it’s better to keep living in limbo with the small amounts he gets from her.

Harry rolls his eyes at himself, takes one last look over his shoulder at Ginny and Demelza giggling together, and speeds up towards the castle. It’s cold and windy and he hates everything.

____

The fluff and tooth-rotting sweetness that fills the air all day gives Harry enough of a headache and a new, unhealthy dose of self-loathing to determine him to hide in a deserted classroom in a desperate attempt to escape.

Hermione, clever as always, had disappeared from the very first hours of the morning, Harry noticed earlier with a twinge of envy. He should’ve done the same, absolutely.

Because, you see, everywhere Harry looked today he could only see cuddly couples, see them crowding the Common Room and quite frankly cavorting all over the castle. It drove him mad.

And, to top it all off, his best mate had joined in the whole frisky business. Harry had spent his entire day feeling nothing but disdain for Ron and his fickle ways so he has a mind to communicate the feeling to his friend as soon as the opportunity arises. Just he waits, it’ll be McGonagall level brutal, Harry reckons.

Now Harry hides, alone, counting down the final hours of Valentine’s Day. He figures he’d be safe once the clock strikes midnight and the nasty spells fades away (because no doubt it’s a spell, some kind of enchantment; normal people don’t kiss all day, do they?) and then he can walk back into the world without the fear of stumbling upon a certain someone, her face glued to the face of an absolute prick.

Harry growls a bit at the thought.

“Ron told me you went hiding.”

Harry’s head snaps so fast he definitely hears something crack.

“I’m doing a very good job at it, I see.” He molds his voice into a dry tone, but can’t hold back the grin that spreads across his face as his heartbeat picks up. He wasn’t expecting this certain someone to come looking for him, especially since his current pastime activity involved pain-inducing scenarios of varying degrees where Ginny and Dean were - erm, couple-y and Harry pretended he’s unaffected.

So unaffected he feels he might just jump and kiss her simply because she isn’t with Dean at the moment, because she’s thinking about him, Harry - at least enough to come looking.

Still, he keeps his head and holds still, back pressed to the stone wall, knees to his chest on the cold, hard floor.

“Nah, it’s just me who’s very clever,” Ginny grins widely as she crouches next to him, pressing her back to the wall and her shoulder into his. “So what’s up with you, sad face?”

Harry scoffs playfully, flicks her shoulder.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing couple-y stuff?”

“Would you rather I did?” Ginny immediately bites back, her eyes fixed on his, a deep frown on her freckled forehead.

Harry feels stupid, sheepish as he opens his mouth and lets out a timid no .

Much like a displeased cat, Ginny breathes out a puff of air and turns her head fast enough to lightly smack Harry over the face with her long, red ponytail.

He wants to apologise, but then decides against it. Somehow, he’s sure it’s not his apology she came after - he doesn’t know what this is about, but it’s not that.

If he’d learned anything over the years of playing Quidditch it’s that the Snitch will eventually turn up if the Seeker stands still and keeps an open eye and their mind alert.

A tense silence falls between them until slowly, gently, Ginny sighs and slides a bit further, lowers her head onto his shoulder. She doesn’t say a word, just sits still, the deep red crown of her hair close to Harry’s blushing cheek.

Harry finds he can’t do much but swallow. There’s a great many things he’d like to do right now, that much is already clear to him, but she’s Ginny, and she’s got someone, and she’s Ron’s sister, and she might slap him anyway if he tried.

He holds his breath and, with a trembling hand, musters enough courage to touch her hair. Then he waits, completely and terribly afraid she’s about to hex him.

But when Ginny doesn’t, when she simply keeps her head on his shoulder and slides her body so close to his that their thighs touch by their sides, Harry knows he’s living some kind of dream. So he goes on to stroke her hair because he might as well enjoy it before it’s over and he wakes up next to a snoring Ron.

“Harry?” Ginny calls him quietly.

Harry hopes very much she’s not about to shout at him. He keeps softly stroking her hair.

“Hmm?”

Her tone is as soft as her flowery scented hair and Harry feels a bit dizzy.

“Do you still think about Cho?”

“No. Why?”

At first, Harry surprises himself with the answer. He really never thinks about her anymore, does he?

But then again, why would he? The honest truth is they’ve drifted apart before they could ever fall together. Cho was never in his every thought, never possessed every one of his dreams the way Ginny did.

No, he didn’t think about her anymore.

“No reason,” Ginny responds and he can feel her smile. Something warm spreads throughout his chest, melting away his anxiety, calming his troubling thoughts.

From there on the conversation lulls pleasantly to a safer ground as they laugh and comment on Ginny’s childhood stories from the Burrow to Harry’s first year at Hogwarts adventures she’s heard a million times before, but still finds everything funny enough to laugh, giggle, and lightly smack Harry’s thigh.

Even though he understands nothing else can be shared between them now, Harry feels calm, happy even: her head still rested on his shoulder, their backs pressed against the stone wall, their knees tucked to their chests.

“Hey, Gin?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you,” Harry draws a breath and smirks, “Could you talk me through the process behind the ‘his eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad’ verse?”

Ginny splutters, pouts and playfully smacks his knees - although, Harry privately notices, her hand lingers there a bit longer.

“Don’t mock my sentiment!”

“Not mocking, promise,” Harry laughs, pressing his cheek atop her head, “I’m actually a great admirer of it.”

“Oh, are you?” She says, dry, and with a great, big harrumph jumps headfirst into a tickling match, mercilessly tickling at Harry’s sides, her flowery scent filling his lungs as they’d laugh and laugh and laugh.

Soon after, another voice tangles with their joyous shrieks: Luna, strolling down the corridors, politely engaged in conversation with the castle’s ghosts.

“Luna,” Ginny lifts herself from him and calls her friend, much to Harry’s dissatisfaction as he’d been having quite the time of his life with her lounging all over his body in her attempt to win the battle by tickling everywhere.

Harry slaps invisible dust away from his clothes rather to give himself something to do and his mind something else to think about than the feeling of Ginny’s chest over his, her warm thighs, her bum touching his lap.

All feelings hard to forget, indeed.

Harry senses the irony on his own use of the word ‘hard’ and really wants to kick himself.

“Hello,” Luna says brightly.

“Yeah, hi, Luna,” says Harry, trying as much as he can not to sound too bitter.

Luna’s round blue eyes fix each of them for awhile and Harry feels like his mind is being scanned. It makes him very uncomfortable; right now, his thoughts are strictly for him to know and judge.

“You alright, Harry?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ginny answers before he can even think of opening his mouth, a devious grin on her face. “He was a bit under the weather, weren’t you, Harry? But I cheered him up.”

Ginny looks entirely too pleased with herself, her expression daring him to deny what she’d just said.

So Harry simply shakes his head and chuckles, his fingertips brushing unconsciously over her small hand; she gasps, surprised.

Harry knows he’s blushing but takes pride in the fact that her cheeks are tinged pink too.

Pleasantly their conversation spikes up and drifts towards Luna, her plans, her strange adventures. They spend an hour listening to her eerily describe the quests her father and her have to undertake to find the next fantastic creature. She talks and they listen and it’s all very nice.

From time to time, Ginny’d catch his eye and they’d grin at each other, cosy on the floor of a chilly, empty classroom.

Maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t so bad after all, Harry thinks as they wave goodbye to Luna and saunter side by side to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Harry’s about to ask her if she’d like to go over their new Quidditch strategy before they call it a night and his hand’s shooting to the back of his head in a kind of nervous gesture he’s lately come to associate with anything that has to do with Ginny.

“Hey, Ginny! Ginny!”

Harry’s mood is irredeemably shattered by Dean’s annoying voice. He’s completely forgotten about him, the stupid git.

“Ginny,” Dean tries again, waving enthusiastically from the other side of the Common Room, face to face with Seamus at a small table. “Here, hey!”

Forlorn and sighing, Ginny makes a gesture that Harry decides to interpret as being sorry that she has to go. So he sighs and watches her start towards Dean and reluctantly sit next to him.

As for him, Harry plops onto the couch, startling a couple of second year girls. They throw him disgusted glances but Harry has none of it; he shrugs and covers his face with a pillow, one leg stretched out on the stringy old couch and the other dangling loose.

He concentrates on the cracking, sizzling sounds of the fire, allows its warmth to comfort him.

He’d been having such a nice couple of hours…

“I’m off to bed, long day,” he hears her speak close to his ear and forgets himself enough to find that the pillow’s been thrown directly into the middle of the hearth.

Immediately, Harry swears loudly and nearly burns his fingers as he retrieves the singed pillow.

“Accio doesn’t work for you anymore?” Ginny laughs.

“Oh, ha ha,” Harry sticks out his tongue and she laughs even harder.

As she calms down, Ginny lightly pats his shoulder and steps away to her dorm room, her giggles sounding beautifully in her wake.

Harry shakes his head, a little dumbfounded, a little bemused and drops into a nearby armchair, once again disturbing the pair of second year girls. He shoots them a small sorry as they walk away muttering.

“Well, that was something.”

Harry’s green eyes follow the dancing flames, their burning lick, and remembers an evening spent talking to Sirius. His heart twists; the memory seems to have been retrieved from such a faraway place, from a different time, like its contains happened to someone else in another life.

The hard truth is, Harry muses and feels his eyes prickling behind closed eyelids, the truth is that he wants to talk to Sirius so, so much. So painfully much. But that’s sadly not possible now, is it, Harry?

“Quick, mate, you need to cover me,” Ron interrupts him as he runs inside, looking exasperated and completely disheveled.

Harry can do only so much not to snort as he takes notice of his best mate’s rumpled hair, the undone buttons of his shirt, half of it hanging out of his trousers, half still smartly tucked in, the lipstick marks on his neck.

“Running from your girlfriend, eh?”

“Shut up and hide me,” Ron barks, plunging under the couch as a sweet, girly shriek rings throughout the Common Room.

Lavender runs in, looks around excitedly and dashes right back out when she can’t spot Ron. Bullet dodged.

“Aha, alright, I hide you but what’s in it for me?” Harry crouches down and asks when the coast is once again clear.

Ron looks at him like he’s suddenly turned insane.

“Fuckin’ hell, Harry, I’m about to get massacred!”

Harry can’t lie, he’s enjoying it more than he should.

“Well, I just don’t see how that’s my problem,” he says, adopting something close to Percy’s pompous tone as he pushes his glasses back up his nose.

“Hello, we’re best mates, remember?”

Harry tries not to break character as Ron’s face becomes a beautiful display of all the stages of horror and desperation.

“Yeah, but you have to understand I’m risking Hermione’s wrath to help you. She might whack me with Hogwarts, A History .”

“I’ll whack you with my own fist right here if you don’t - look, there’s no time for bloody negotiations!”

“Is that right? Then how about I get one free pass where I do something and you can’t get mad or question it?”

“What are you on about?”

“Just nod and be done with it,” Harry says as he crosses his arms, fully knowing he’s on dangerous ground.

“Alright, alright, now will you give me that damn Cloak?”

“No need, she’s already gone,” Harry shrugs, smug and finally bursts into laughter at Ron’s harassed expression.

He helps Ron get up and quickly checks that Lavender is indeed still out of sight.

As much as he wants to ask Ron why in the name of all things holy he doesn’t break things off with her, Harry decides to keep it to himself this time. When he draws the line, he can’t find any good reason why he doesn’t just tell Ginny how he feels either.

“Hey, mate?” Ron quietly asks as they’re climbing the stairs to the sixth year boys’ dorm and Harry doesn’t miss the blush creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears. “Have you - erm, have you seen Hermione today?”

In his heart, Harry’s content to acknowledge once again that, at the very least, he’s not the only dumb, besotted fool.

#itsblissfuloblivion writes #itsblissfuloblivion writes torch #hinny #hbp fic #canon compliant #hinny fic #missing moments #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #ron weasley #gryffindormischief #fightfortherightsofhouseelves #WE GOT YOU THE FLUFF #OF COURSE WE WANT MORE FLUFF #BUT ITS JUST NOT POSSIBLE RIGHT NOW FOR HARRY OKAY #LET HIM LIVE

53 notes · View notes

naptoons · 4 years

Text

Haunt you - brandon arreaga

Warnings: drinking substance, mild language.

Theme: angst

Summary: Brandon regrets breaking up with you for the sake of protecting you, everyday memories of you guys together haunts him, so he decided he’s going to talk to you again and apologize.

A/N: I didn’t proofread, but this song is my current fave atm I’m literally obsessed with it lol. And I saw Brandon fitting this scenario I was in my feels blame the Scorpio in me🥺🤟🏾

You and Brandon were perfect. Every one looked up to y’all as couple goals. You were happy with Brandon, and he was as well with you. Wherever he was you were there. Even Zion would tease y’all and shout “can y’all unstick from each other for two minutes?!” Which ultimately made the both of you blush. Three months into the relationship you’d asked him was he going to introduce you to his fans. Brandon froze up and your question and decided not to answer. From that day forth you haven’t talked to him. Until three weeks later he texted you and broke up with you.

It was hard on you, he never told you why or even tried to talk about it. And that bothered you. But at the same time you thought how could you easily talk about pain? Pain isn’t a buttery smooth topic. Five months passed and you tried to forget about him, throwing yourself into your studies, going outside whenever you felt the need to cry. Texting your friends and practically begging them to come over or hangout with you. Matters didn’t get better when you realized all the members were still following you on Instagram. So you saw all their stories and posts.

Seeing Brandon’s smile made you miss his, made you miss the way his nose slightly crinkled when he smiled. The way his nose ring would constantly shift everytime he laid a kiss on you, caressing his tattoos after both of you came out the shower. The way he would tap your thigh softly while making beats because he wanted you close at all times. It was the little things that made you happy. And now you felt as if you were being greedy and that’s what drove him away from you. Putting on your favorite movie and grabbing your chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of wine. You begin binging the movie. Drinking glass after glass. An hour later the whole bottle was gone.

And your nose was red and your eyelids were puffy, slumped in the covers on your couch. Maybe it was better off this way, he could live his life and travel go on tour do his music. Hell he could get drunk if he wanted too, have one night stands, maybe even find someone whose job is just like his. But you can’t help how badly you want him. Even though you and Brandon have broken up the other members have been texting and checking up on you.

Feeling yourself falling asleep you phone buzzes scaring you , looking at the caller ID you see it’s Zion wanting to FaceTime you. Pulling the covers up to your nose you answer his call. “Hey y/n are you sick?” He asks in a concerned tone

“Having a little allergy problem, that’s all so what’s up?” You ask

“On our way to your house, we’re in town and thought we’d visit, come take you out or something” Zion adds Edwin gets in the camera slightly “y/n!!! We’ve missed you dude” Edwin chimes. You smile, sinking further into the covers.

“I’ve missed you guys too, how are y’all?” You asks

“Pretty great, how’s college going?” Edwin asks

“Sluggish” you giggle, they look at you with furrowed eyebrows “y/n? Are you drunk?” Zion questions you sink your head in the pillow as you start giggling even more but now it’s mixed with salty tears. “We’re on our way y/n” Zion whispers, Zion hangs up the phone as you stand up making your way to the shower, to clean yourself up.

Fifteen minutes later, a knock is at your door, your hair was still semi wet, you step to the side letting them all in, all expect Brandon he wasn’t here. In a way you really wish he was. Just to see how he was doing.

“Y/n? Talk to us, you’ve kinda been ignoring us since...” Zion starts but you cut him off “since we’ve broken up yeah I’m aware, it’s just really hard Zion, getting used to something that isn’t your routine, reverting back to normal, when what was normal before was beautiful” you rant “maybe I’m reminiscing too much on the past and it’s hurting me, but I’m hurting...”

Your voice choked up “I’m hurting cause I’ll never know why” Zion wastes no time pulling you into his arms, followed by the rest of the members wrapping their arms around you. They made you feel a bit better.

They stayed with you for a couple of hours playing board games, screaming at each other in uno, Zion getting real salty about you beating him in Mario kart. Brandon saw all of this through Instagram, seeing that smile it's the way you look, he won't forget it. His friend taps his shoulder making Brandon screenlock his phone.

“Bro you know you still love her, so go tell her” he advises

Brandon shakes his head “no, I can’t but it’s better this way”

His friend chuckles “it’s better for y’all to be miserable and running away from fake fans? Those are the only ones that are going to hate on y’all relationship dude”. Brandon broke up with you because he wanted to save your heart from the ruthless cyber space. He knew that on the internet it can be harsh, and he didn’t want you going through the same thing he does.

He didn’t want a psychopathic liar, twisting things around and making you doubt his love for you. He didn’t want anyone to make a fool out of you. He didn’t want anyone to publicly embarrass you. All he wanted was to see you smile, to see your eyes glisten at him, laugh until y’all turned blue in the face. Cuddle up on the roof at night and paint out fake constellations. It was the little things that haunted him. But he would rather have you away from this dark world than drag you in it.

“Brandon, listen your true fans will support and love you no matter what, look how they treated you and Charlotte. They will do the same with her, and plus if they don’t that’s okay, your family loves her, your friends life her and y’all love each other” his friend further pushes. “So get it through your thick skull and fucking talk to her,get your girl back, hug her kiss her before it’s too late, then it’ll really haunt you”

Brandon nods his head softly knowing one hundred percent his friend was right, texting Zion asking for your address, he grabs his keys rushing to your apartment.

The members left your house an hour ago, leaving you with a sore stomach, they made you laugh, they tried to teach you a dance. You really forgot about your problems for today. But when the moonlight peaked through your curtains. Your emotions would turn detrimental. Your doorbell rings just as you were heading towards your bedroom, confused and startled you wander towards the door, unlocking it you peep your head around seeing the raven haired boy, soaked from head to toe, his glasses glistening from the droplet.

“Brandon?” You question, Brandon weakly smiles at your sudden emotion, you never thought about the day you’d see him again. And now that he’s here your mind is empty. “May I come in?” His voice is soft being careful to think his words through.

“Yeah, of course you’re soaked” you open the door wider letting him step foot on your welcome mat. Closing the door and locking it behind him , Brandon starts taking off his shoes by the door tugging them away in the corner. “Want tea? Don’t want you sick when y’all start recording” you smile remembering how upset Brandon used to get whenever he had a cold and couldn’t record.

Music was his first love you would always tell him, but he’d always argue with you and say “no you’re my first love, stop trying to compete, with something you know you’ll win at”

“Sure, I’ll take your tea, just this time let’s hope you don’t give me diabetes” Brandon jokes

“That was one time !! Ugh” you yell, putting the water in the teapot you turn with the bag, turning around to meet Brandon’s eyes.

“Y/n?” His voice shakes “I’m here to say I’m sorry,you didn’t deserve to be in a toxic relationship, I didn’t deserve to give you pain, and to say I did it because I was scared of what the media would think is beyond fucking stupid” Brandon rarely cursed, and if he did he was serious about it, it had to be something he was passionate about it.

“I know your heart its way beyond being fixed, but I want to try, I want to take my time and heal you, and love you, because y/n I do love you more than I can comprehend, your pain is something I thought about for a while” Brandon reaches for your hand caressing your fingers. “I have a lot more words but I’d rather you hear it” Brandon’s voice vibrates appearing that he may break into tears soon. You nod your head getting the tea off and pouring it into a travel cup, adding in the organic honey and organic sugar, then stir with a spoon.

“I promise it’s not this sweet this time” you smile

“If it is that’s okay, I’ll drink it anyways” Brandon grabs your hand walking towards the door. Putting on his shoes. “What about me I need shoes” you try to turn around but Brandon pulls you closer lifting your legs off the ground.

“No worries your stuff is still at the house” getting outside you lock the door with the keys and he places your phone in his pocket. Running to the car you’re giggling in excitement and a sudden rush of butterflies. He places you in the car, rushing to his side as the rain started to trickledown.

“You’re insane” you giggle

“All because the name of love” he replies smiling

Arriving the the prettymuch house Brandon is holding you as he opens the front door with the key, walking in the house Zion and nick are in the couch. “Hey y’all” you giggle

Zion can’t help but to smile a little “hey” he lets out softly, Brandon smiles back at Zion nodding his head, Zion winks at him and Brandon walks to his room. Placing you down on your feet. You scan his room looking at his new set up, really have changed his sense of style. Brandon grabs your hand sitting you on the chair next to him.

“I can sing better than I can talk, so listen to this” he places his headphones on your head. The guitar begins to strum with the soft vocals of Brandon singing the first lyric of the song “How do I measure up to heights you've been to? How could I ever love you like you're meant to?” Looking at Brandon his fingers tap against the wooden table. Your eyes focused on the fidgeting nerves in my jawline. Sooner or later the chorus comes around.

“Never thought something so beautiful could haunt you Haunt you, haunt you”

You could feel the emotions in this song. Yeah you know he didn’t write it but he sung it as if he did, because it was meant for you to hear. After the song is done you look Brandon in the eyes. Hes biting his nails aching at your sudden response. He wasn’t prepared for your words. You sit on his lap cupping his head. “Brandon, my heart isn’t past broken it’s still trying to heal, and I’m scared, I’ve wished for this day I wished for this conversation, but I don’t know what to say”

Brandon’s eyes sparkling into euphoria, you can tell he’s still in love with you, but you were scared of what may happen. “Brandon I’m really scared” you whisper

“I’m sorry I made you scared baby, but I just wanted it to be known that my actions weren’t the way I truly felt, I still and will always love you” Brandon kisses your cheeks, his hand rubbing your back softly. “Would you like me to take you back home?” Brandon asks you.

“No, I wanna stay here and work it out with my boyfriend” you blurt out, Brandon widen his eyes up at you trying to calm the nerves laugh building up in his throat “I’m scared but I wanna give it chance, Brandon I still love you a lot and if theirs a chance of maybe reconnecting I’ll give it a go” you giggle caressing the nape of his neck “but can we take it slow?”

“Slow burns are all I want with you” Brandon mumbles pulling you into a soft kiss wrapping his arms around your waist,lifting you up the both of you lay down on the bed. You in his chest with one leg on top of his. “You know if I fuck this up Zion said he would beat my ass?” Brandon laughs

“Really? Zion has feelings?” You laugh caressing his jawline with your fingernails, Brandon nods his head falling into your trance while rubbing the tips of y’all noses together “I’ve missed you so much” you whisper

“I’ve missed you more babylove, so much” Brandon hums on your ear laying kisses from your ear to your lips “and I love you” Brandon just spills his body tensing at the words that flew out. you just giggling kissing his lips on last time. “I love you too honey”

#prettymuch #prettymuch imagines #brandon arreaga #brandon arreaga concepts #brandon imagines

52 notes · View notes