#yeah he's a party dude but also he will mess you up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mellowwillowy · 1 month

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TWST x Self-aware Yan Cannibal AU Ft: Unhinged GN Reader

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥

Unbirthday party has always been a merry occasion for 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥. Not only does he get to eat the strawberry tarts, but he also gets to have Trey's meat pie specialty.

Pigs who dared to enrage the tyrant by upsetting you, the law, are sent to the kitchen for the butcher and baker to process into something edible.

The card soldiers cheer in joy and anxiety, pleased to be able to taste the main course yet sweating over the idea of screwing up and ending up on the silver platter.

Yet part of them does not really mind if it's meant that they will be devoured by you, the law, their grace. Ace and Deuce have always irked Riddle but the sight of you smiling along with their pranks and mischiefs save them from the trouble they are about to face.

Cater will always upload it on magicam, boasting the sight of you enjoying your stay in 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥 as you nibble on the tart. Baked and minced to your favorite, as usual. Trey and Cater sure know their way around this, memorizing how you like it by heart.

"Looks like you two are having a hard time cleaning the guillotine huh?" You stopped in front of the guillotine, watching the other students along with the ADeuce duo wiping the blade that had severed yet another pig for you to feast on soon.

"Uh yeah, troublesome as always, I hate having this bloody mess all over my hands." Deuce furrowed his eyebrows, waving his hands for you to see. Ace immediately elbowed Deuce, "Dude, you are splattering the blood all over me!"

You chuckled at the duo before turning back your focus on Riddle and his chaperones, "I assure you, those blood does taste good too if you know your way around it."

Trey and Cater raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other, seemingly knowing what they would present for you at the next Unbirthday party.

"Is that so? Then I'll make sure to have your Grace have a taste of it at our next tea party."

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰

It's only natural to see the beasts ripping the guts out of the prey with their bare fangs. 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰 surely offers an entirely different vibe when it comes to banquets.

Until Leona signals them, the beasts are nothing but starving predators, ready to shred the prey into minced meat. But Leona is nothing but a calm and obedient beast when it comes to you, eagerly waiting for you to give him the accord.

One tilt of your head and a nod is all it takes for Leona to snap his fingers, the chosen beasts leaping toward the prey eagerly as their claws and fangs tore them apart.

Jack was the fiercest among the others, even more than his seniors. For someone who held an upright moral integrity, he had it revolved around you and all sense of justice had been laid onto the tip of your tongue.

Ruggie on the other hand only watched in amusement next to Leona, waiting for the next batch of captured prey to be feasted by him. He would not cut line and steal a bite of what's not given to him from you, oh nooo, he was a patient hyena.

Leona cocked his head to you, eyes focused on you while waiting for you to lock your eyes with his, "Should I grab one for you to eat too, your Grace?"

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞

Mostro Lounge has always offered the best dining experience. It is not to be doubted again that 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 is most definitely going to serve you the finest meal, personally handled and cooked by the Tweels.

And of course, those who fail to fulfill the terms of Azul's contract have to feel how the merfolks gut them, spilling their whole innards all over as they choose which part is considered the most delectable for you.

From the sophisticated look of the beverage, tinted dark red yet a hue of purple could be seen, giving it a pleasingly aesthetic look for you to fawn over before you drink it down.

On the silver platter was a heart, decorated with things you had no idea about but you had seen back in your world. Fancy diners always do that, you thought to yourself.

"Only the best part for your Grace." Jade bowed down as he adjusted the plate and utensils. Floyd was grinning from ear to ear as he dusted the sugar cube into your drink, "And something refreshingly sweet for ya' highness!"

You gave them a curt nod before slicing it, Floyd kneeling down next to you while his face rested on your chair's armrest, eyes glimmering in excitement as he waited for your feedback. Jade might not show it in his face but even you could notice how his feet tapped against the carpeted tile, something you'd never see from someone who could stand still for hours without moving like an inanimate object.

You gave them an approving nod and smile as you took a sip from the drink Floyd personally went over length to make for you, "Satisfactory as usual."

A pair of hands clasped on your shoulders from behind, Azul cooed right into your ear "But your Grace, surely it can go beyond that no? We'll make sure of that the next time you choose to feast here."

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐚

Banquet has always been something that is always happening due to Kalim's nature and Jamil has never really found any joy from it.

But all that changes if the banquet is thrown for you. Oh, how the viper ensures himself to go beyond length in preparing the dishes. With Kalim's endless riches, he can use all sorts of ingredients one would never be able to obtain without spending a fortune for their rarity. Only the freshest and best ingredients are allowed to be used for your meal and so are the living meat of the students.

Everything must be set to a T. Kalim may not be a tyrant but when it comes to you? He's unconsciously pointing his fingers and brows scrunched at anything that is not abided by perfection. The lamps are not hung at the right angle, the pillows have not been changed into new pillows and the animals must be paraded in order and not roam like wild beasts. Anyone who just ever makes the slightest mistake will be sent straight to the kitchen as an ingredient. Had it not been for Jamil's suggestion to send them all bruiseless, they would have been beaten until they were nothing but pulp.

You were taking in the sight of the parade, everything was as amusing as you had always remembered. But the true highlight lay in Jamil's cooking, if you have to pinpoint the best cook in this twisted wonderland then it had to be Jamil. Unlike the finery of Mostro Longue, Jamil's cooking had a different feel to it. It was not as aesthetic yet it did not change the fact that it still looked pleasantly delicious. If Mostro Lounge accounted for the positioning of the food in a numerical and angle way, Jamil offered everything in a neat bulk. Curry, prata, shawarma, and all. Its display screamed for people to grab one yet no one dared to unless you ordered them to do so.

You cocked your head toward Kalim who was sitting right next to you, eyes glimmering in adoration as he drunk in your expression. Oh, would you finally like to have a bite? He held one of the shawarma out toward you with an empty plate in his other hand.

Jamil had ensured that there were 2 different platters, one for you which was made from the best ingredients and seasonings, while the other was less if compared to yours but still delicious nonetheless. One was made from meat and blood that had been considered the best while the other was made from those that failed to pass through the requirements.

You took a bite from his hand, savoring the taste of Jamil's hard work while enjoying the show of Kalim's tyranny. Truly, you love being able to taint your beloved sunshine.

"Say say, are you enjoying it all, your Grace? Not even a beat of music missed and all the food that sprawled across the room is ensured to be of the best quality." Kalim brought a goblet onto you and you held it in your hand. He gave you another grin that was just as blinding as the sun, his finger beckoned Jamil to pour you the carmine drink, squeezed from their cries of agony and pain before they were minced.

"But of course, your Grace has no need to hesitate to point something out if it's not to your liking," Jamil chimed in as he watched you swirl your goblet. The two of them stared right into your eyes, eyes enchanted by you despite one being an enchanter, "Because we seek only perfection for your Grace's taste."

𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 prides themselves in their pitch-perfect diet. So what if their Grace has a different taste in the feast? All they have to do is readjust and tailor the whole dorm's diet to yours.

The fairest one of all, wearing a tiara that shines even brighter than any tiaras Vil has ever seen, truly living up to the radiance you emit just from sitting on the very throne with him standing right next to you.

It appeared that preparing a banquet was a huge feat for 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 as they were divided into 2 teams. Team One prepared the whole occasion while Team Two flocked toward you, amusing you with a theatric show as you watched them from your throne.

It appeared that Rook's fascination with the world of theatrics and you worked really well as he 'acted' out the role of a lover professing his love toward the protagonist really well. Strings of bizarre praises and wishes rolled from the tip of his tongue smoothly as though it was by nature for him to act so already.

Epel on the other hand was all energized to drag the qualified livestock into the kitchen after Vil had inspected them all personally. The livestock was to be of a healthy diet, bruiseless and ailment-free before it was allowed to be cooked and feasted by the Grace.

The moment Rook was notified that the whole banquet was ready, a trumpet was blown and you were led to the dining hall which had been decorated to match your attire. Were you wearing something cute, pure, sexy, cool, or pop? Either way, 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 never missed a beat in losing its elegance no matter what the theme was.

"Allow me," Rook pulled the chair for you to sit on before he readjusted the platter asymmetrically. Right next to your seat on the right was Vil sitting while the rest of the body stood, not daring to sit unless you allowed them to.

Seeing Epel all giddy observing you, you beckoned him to come to you and he whispered into your ear, "I seasoned it!"

You cocked a questioning eyebrow toward Vil and he could only sigh with a chuckle, "Oh what will I do with your Grace's taste bud?"

Rook poured a carmine red fluid into your glass, its smell told you that it was not made just from a fine wine but rather, a fine blood.

"A fine cocktail of white wine, dyed with a carmine golden drop, hand-picked and squeezed personally by me. Truly, your favorite, your Grace."

𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞

Honestly, what do you even expect from all these anti-socials? They are nothing but a bunch of hikikomori yet the Shroud Brothers just know how to surprise you!

Unlike the impractical methods that the others use to earn just a golden drop of blood from the livestock, the dorm has created countless practical devices that help them to create something quickly.

Compressors that grind down the gutless livestock into a fine drink. Shredders that allow them to save time from having to shred from chunk by chunk. And a practical inspection device that helps Idia sort out the best for you to feast on.

Ortho had to be the most eager one of all, singing non-stop as he ensured all were to be finished quickly when you informed him that you would be choosing 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 for your next banquet.

They specialized in efficiency and speed but that did not mean they lacked the skill of cooking a delicious dish. While it may be pale when compared to other dorms, 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 is a great option for when you are craving for something and want it to be on your plate in a short moment. They might not score 12/10 but they were able to at the very least score 8/10. Surprised much? Ortho had been practicing how to cook and all from the data Idia inputted into him.

"Uurgh.. uhh... y-your Grace... so what is the verdict? A level up? Or an increase in the ranking board? O-Ortho is really expecting your answer..."

You raised your eyebrows at his stuttering, "Getting better," you stopped for a moment to chew again, "and delicious."

Ortho immediately leaped toward you from Idia's back, causing him to squeak, his metal arms wrapped around your neck, "I'm glad! Please keep on coming here and I'll make sure to be the best cook you'll ever have!"

Idia brought a napkin over to your face, "Yes... should your Grace ever need for a quick meal, please come by... Me and Ortho... and Ortho... will always be ready at your disposal."

But who were you but the all-knowing God, you knew there was a slight taint of blot in your meal, Ortho, you assumed.

𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚

Lilia has to stay away from the kitchen. But don't worry, the bat is entrusted with hunting down livestock for the youngsters to process into something edible.

Malleus on the other hand is ready to strike anyone down with lightning should they make the slightest mistake in the banquet preparation.

Sebek is in charge of inspecting the livestock while Silver is in charge of the most gruesome part of the job (which was appointed by you for fun.) which is gutting. Surely tainting someone so pure like him has to be your favorite feast.

The candles on the table were all lit in emerald hue, fireflies surrounded you as Lilia levitated around you, joyously guiding you toward the dining table.

There you could see Malleus sitting on the second host seat, his hand prompts you to take a seat across from him. Lilia pulled the chair for you to sit before Silver walked out of nowhere, holding a plate of dishes for you to feast on.

Sebek on the other hand had been arranged to stand right next to Malleus, part of him was happy yet part of him envied Silver. Nonetheless, no barks had ever slipped past through his sealed lip.

"Kukuku, the boys went through great details and length in preparing this whole banquet, well, me included. It was fun hunting down these livestock for you," His index finger felt your platter, "it makes me feel like I must pick the ripest for you... feeding you... aa~"

Soon, he brought a forkful of meat sliced by SIlver earlier while you were distracted by Lilia. Malleus smiled at your dazed-out face and the way realization washed over you.

"May your Grace enjoy the blessing that you have graced us tonight." Malleus raised his goblet, urging you to do just the same.

"Cheers!" Lilia wiped your mouth with the napkin, Silver's hand holding out your filled goblet.

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐲 ???

"My words! Did you have fun, hm?" Crowley immediately lunged toward you the moment you entered his office. He gave you the cutest pout you could ever see from him, his cheek rubbed against yours repeatedly.

"Are you jealous, Dire?"

"Of course not! How can someone as magnanimous as I, be jealous of my own fledglings?" And as though to prove to you his seriousness, he even posed ridiculously with his staff.

You cackled at him before giving him a kiss on his cheek, "I'm home, Dire."

Crowley stopped acting up and turned serene, giving you a smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes.

"Welcome home, Master. Dinner's ready as usual."

Oh old times... ???

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chryblossomjjk · 2 years

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practice (pt. 2) | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst

⇢ WC: 8.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: implied family issues, photography major jk in full effect, casual titty sucking (lol), oral sex (f receiving), ass eating and motorboating?, handjob, unprotected sex (crowd boos and throws tomatoes), a bit of spanking, talk of sex toys, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, slight dom and sub oc, slight sub and dom jk, shower head as vibrator (everyone w a clit has done this pls-), some manhandling, anal play, shower floor sex !!!, very slight cum eating, creampie, oc reflects on how far she’s fallen, oc still hates men, maybe unrequited love, maybe not

⇢ SUMMARY: everything is wet. you and jungkook tangled up on the shower floor. your eyes afterwards.

⇢ NOTES: yOu’Re WeLcOmE rEaDeRs. this was only going to be a one shot but i was manipulated into making it a three part series bc of u all >:((! lol kidding love u babies! tbh i'm a bit disappointed with this piece. i really loved it when i outlined it but for some reason it just didn’t come together how i would’ve hoped. i tried my best guys rip. hopefully part three will be better. anyways, feedback is greatly greatly appreciated!! thank you again for all the engagement on part one if you’re new pls go read it and check out my masterlist here. ALSO HUGE THANK YOU TO MY BBY @here4btsfics FOR BETAING LEGIT COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT U!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

“You look miserable.”

You were miserable.

The air at the frat party was suffocating. Sweaty bodies grinding against one another, nudging your shoulder as they shimmied by. The strobe lights made your vision splotchy and the blaring speakers had your head pounding. Plus, you could already feel the makeup sinking into your pores. An oil cleanse is needed asap.

“You look like a hot mess,” you snap at the boy in front of you. His stringy bangs stick to his clammy forehead, poking out from underneath his black bucket hat. The neck of his dark gray t-shirt is stretched to one side from the pull of petite, manicured fingers. Pink lip gloss is smeared across his lips, making a glittery trail down his neck. Sore red marks already blooming. “It’s late.”

“It’s only like-” Jungkook looks at his watch. “1 a.m.”

“Yeah, late. I have a test in the morning.”

“Go home.”

That was the problem. The two only people you really knew at the party, Mina and Taehyung, snuck off into a grimy bathroom to fuck eachother’s brains out. That was an hour ago. How long could they really go at it? You explain this to Jungkook with a sigh. “If they’re not back in the next twenty minutes, I’m going to flip.”

“Don’t be a buzzkill.” Jungkook chuckles, plopping down on the brown corduroy couch next to you. A drop of alcohol spills over the edge of his red solo cup, landing right on your bare thigh. “You can’t go by yourself?”

“I’m a woman, Jungkook.”

“Ah, right,” he nods, thumb brushing away the dark liquid on your skin before putting it in his mouth. Goosebumps form instantaneously as you watch in utter shock. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Bambi, but I don’t think a dude would touch you with a ten foot pole. You’re kinda fucking scary.”

You glare at him, fluffy brows furrowed into sharp slants. Deep scowl on your shiny pout.

“See?” He laughs, tattooed digits coming up to pinch the baby fat of your cheeks. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“No,” you huff, slapping his hand away. The subtle touch was enough to feel how surprisingly soft his skin is. “I’ll go get Mina and Taehyung-” you scoof, getting up from the tattered material under you.

“Chill.” His fingers catch the ruffled hem of your dress, knuckles brushing against the back of your thigh.

The audacity.

“Let them do their thing. I’ll take care of you.”

“Aren’t you in the middle of-” your eyes flicker over to Nayeon, who had been attached to Jungkook’s neck all night prior. She’s on the opposite side of the room, swaying back and forth, watching him cautiously. No doubt wondering if the illusive man had slipped from her grasp, onto the next girl that caught his fleeting attention. “-A thing?”

“Nayeon is cool.” He glances over his shoulder, gnawing on the silver ring on the corner of his lip. He nervously rolls the material of your dress between his thumb and index finger. Your eyes widen at the motion. Why was he being so… handsy tonight? “She’ll understand.”

Even from a distance, you can see the disappointed glint in her eyes when he explains that he’s heading out for the night.

The air outside is much nicer. The wind brushes through the cracks in the trees, kissing the leaves with a seemingly soft gust. The brunt of the blow isn’t felt until the wind is gone, and the unsuspecting leaves slowly dwindle to the ground. Confused as to how something so delicate and graceful led to their demise.

“Ugh, fuck,” Jungkook snarls, sticking out his pink tongue after taking a sip of whatever drink he had been nursing. “Shit’s like battery acid.”

You giggle, turning your head to get a better look at him. He looks so pretty in the moonlight. Even prettier than usual, you think. Your eyes dart back to the sidewalk under your feet.

“Here,” he passes the plastic cup towards you. “I can’t drink anymore.”

“Ew, I don’t want your backwash, Jeon.” You scoff, holding your balled fists to your chest in disgust.

“I’ve been known to spit in a mouth every now and then… never had any complaints.”

God, he’s so crude.

“I told you, I have a test to take.”

“Oh please,” he persists. “I take all my tests hungover.”

“What tests?” You surrender, finally accepting the poisonous drink. A quick whiff of the mysterious liquid confirms his earlier sentiments. It was most definitely battery acid. “You’re a photography major.”

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Jungkook chants, pumping his fist in the air for emphasis.

“Stop peer pressuring me!” You say exasperatedly, words riddled with broken laughter. He’s so insufferably annoying but… weirdly adorable.

He continues, shouting louder until you down the drink in one big gulp, gagging at the putrid aftertaste. He cheers, no concern for the sleeping students who can surely hear his booming voice through their thin dormitory walls.

“I’m a bad influence on you. You’re turning into me.”

“You wish.”

“Not Bambi anymore, hm?” He takes his hat off, ruffling his hair before plopping it onto your head. “Gonna have to call you my baby.”

The breeze does nothing to ease the burning in your cheeks. “You’re an idiot, Jungkook.”

“Oh God… you sound like my parents,” he laughs. It wasn’t the one you had become accustomed to throughout your brief friendship. The high-pitched infectious one that always coaxed a similar sound out of you.

This laugh was sarcastic. Devoid of joy.

“I’m so drunk that you look like ‘em too.”

You glance up from the crushed cup. He looks… sad. You’ve never seen Jungkook sad, or even serious for that matter. His lips are pulled into a tight line, chin covered little dents as he tries to contain his emotions.

Whatever he was feeling, you never want him to feel it again.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing,” he shakes his head, back pressing against the entrance of your building, prepared to push it open for you.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” you frown, halting your steps. You can’t leave until that heart wrenching expression stops tainting his features.

“My parents are like… old school,” he shrugs, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I was so sheltered growing up. I feel like I missed out on a lot and I just… they wanted me to go to law school. Can you believe that? Me? A lawyer?”

Jungkook was a person you never expected to relate to. Sure, you were casual friends, but you chalk that up to circumstance. He just so happened to be a friend of your roommate’s boyfriend. Your interactions up until this point had been playful banter. Nothing incredibly deep.

Honestly, you didn’t even think he was capable of complex emotions.

You feel guilty about that now.

“They sound like mine,” you admit. “They completely tie my worth to my academic success.”

“But you’re good at that. Thinking.” His fingers tap against his temple before rubbing in soothing circles, trying to coax the cogs in his skull to spin. “You’re the most intelligent person I know and I’m not just saying that because I like you.”

“Thank you,” you peep. You’ve always suspected that Jungkook secretly hated you.

Hate is a strong word and you’re very dramatic.

But nothing about your lifestyles are parallel. They’re perpendicular, moving in two completely separate directions. Only crossing paths every now and then.

Too different and incompatible.

“My brain doesn’t work like that- watch your step,” he warns, pointing at a divet between the concrete and tile as you finally step inside.

“I don’t like to think. I like to see. I’m a visual person.” He’s talking with so much passion, hands moving about to show you what his words couldn’t. You watch in awe.

“They don’t get that. Like when I got these,” he holds his inked arm out for your viewing pleasures. “My dad bugged out. ‘You’ll never get a good job with those doodles on your arm.’”

His tone was so exaggerated that you couldn’t help but giggle, shoulder knocking against his as you walked. He laughs too.

“I don’t really give a shit about the future. I care about now. I want to experience everything I can, right now. To me, life is about living in the moment. Photography is literally like-” his eyes squint, darting around the hallway as he looks for the right words. “Like- snapshots of the present.”

He got so carried away that he didn’t realize you had reached your destination. You blink at him.

“I’m sorry.” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That was stupid,”

“No!” You lower your voice immediately, embarrassed at your sudden outburst. “I actually…” You pause, contemplating your next words.

“I wish I was m-”

“I want to be-”

You both pause this time. Jungkook nods his head towards you, giving you the green light to speak first.

“In some ways, I wish I was more like you.”

“Yeah.” He hums with a soft smile, leaning against your doorframe. So delicate and graceful. “I was gonna say the same thing.”

You gulp, completely and utterly rattled. Your shaky hands fiddle with your keys, struggling to fit them into the lock.

Why are you so nervous all of a sudden? It’s just Jungkook.

He laughs, steadying your jittery hand with his own and helping you slot the metal in.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say meekly, avoiding eye contact as you enter the dark room. “For what it’s worth… I think your tattoos are really cool.”

“And I think you’re really cute when you’re flustered,” he smirks, backing away from the doorway and waving at you. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

Much to your dismay, the compliment makes your cheeks heat up.

“Jungkook, wait! Your hat!”

“Nah, keep it!” He shouts down the hallway. “It looks better on you anyway!”

“Jungkook, stop,” you whine, back arching off your white cotton duvet. The soft tongue twisting around your nipple makes it incredibly difficult to focus on your cracked phone screen. “This episode is important. We meet Sailor Mars.”

“Sorry, Bambi,” He grunts, wet mouth reluctantly popping off your stiff bud. “Got distracted.”

It’s been a little under two month of this. Of you and him.

Having sex, exchanging sweet words and touches, going back to just friends. Rinse and repeat.

Blissful peaks and exhausting valleys. A rollercoaster of emotions with no logical endpoint in sight. You tried not to think about that part often though.

It was easy to distract yourself from the truth when Jungkook brought you lunch during the gap in his classes, or when he agreed to watch Sailor Moon in its entirety without much pushing. Atleast you could pretend he was yours in those little moments of affection.

You huff, pulling the crumpled t-shirt, his t-shirt, back over your chest. Your heart was still pounding from your last round an hour or so ago, and him casually sucking on your nipple while streaming a cartoon didn’t help.

“She’s your favorite?” He questions, propping his head up on the heel of his hand as he lays on his side. You nod, gaze flickering over to him. His previous activities had made his teddy bear headband slouch forward. You use one of the plush brown ears to pull it back into place.

Although sweet and attentive, Jungkook wasn’t immune to the innate disadvantages that came with being a man.

Like not knowing how to wash his face properly.

You watched in horror a couple weeks ago as scrubbed his face in your bathroom sink. Bangs and all. An order for a cute bear headband, the same brand as your kitty ones, was placed immediately. The way he smiled when you gave it to him would forever be burned into your memory.

“Makes sense,” he hums. “Mars is the planet of war.”

You side-eye him, knowing exactly what he was implying with that snide comment. “Just watch the show, Jeon.”

“I am.” His wavering attention turns back to your phone. “I love 90's animation. It was basically all done by hand, see?” He points at the scene behind Usagi; a blue watercolor sky fading into a baby pink. Clearly hand drawn. It was a detail you never noticed before.

“And the saturation is higher so the colors look brighter.”

“Your major is showing,” you say, using an eye roll to suppress the smile dancing on your lips. You don’t want to disturb the hydrating sheet mask on your face, resting in just the right position. You also don’t want to clue him in on how cute you find his artistic rambles.

“Speaking of that,” he laughs, resting his cheek against your chest, unable to stay in one position for too long. He’s like that in the bedroom too. You sigh as dry bits of his face mask crumble off his temple and onto the black fabric. Baby steps. “You’re still coming to the showcase, right?

Jungkook’s big end-of-semester project was to create a photography portfolio on a topic of his choosing. There was going to be a cute little gallery event to display the work of him and his classmates. It was hard not to get your hopes up when he invited you.

That was a sign that maybe, just maybe, the feeling was mutual. Right?

“Right,” you answer him curtly. “Now tell me what topic you picked, demon.”

“Nah, you’ll have to be a good girl and wait,” he grins teasingly, lifting up to steal an airy peck. “Besides, I need to get one more sho-”

Ding.

“Thank fuck!” He groans, springing up at the sound of your timer. “This feels like sandpaper. What the fuck are you doing to my face?”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scold, pressing pause and tossing your phone onto your bed. He’d have to meet your favorite character some other time, clearly too distracted and antsy tonight to focus.

“Bambi,” he says indignantly, pointing straight ahead at Mina’s floor mirror with wide doe eyes. His skin is cracked and painted gray. The reflection is startling to the skincare newbie. “Look at how dry this shit is!”

“Jungkook, it’s supposed to look like that. It’s a clay mask.” You laugh, peeling your more gentle one off and tossing it into the little trash bin near your nightstand. “You have oily skin, so it’ll help clear out your pores and reduce excess sebum production.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” he laughs, climbing out of bed and rolling his shoulders, arms numb from laying down too long. He’s topless. You can’t help but eye the way his back muscles pop out with every circular motion.

How yummy.

“Do you mind if I hop in the shower?”

He doesn’t need to ask. Jungkook has become a permanent fixture in your dorm, like the color pink or your twin bed. Whenever Mina is gone, he’s there.

His presence is also similar to your bed in the sense that it doesn’t extend past the four walls of your room and mind.

A bed is warm, though. Comforting. And you long for it when you’re not in it.

That longing leads your wandering feet into the steamy bathroom.

“Jungkook,” you peep softly, knocking gently on the glass door before sliding it open. “Can I join you?”

The unexpected noise makes him jump, a large palm hitting his bare chest with a wet smack. Once his mind registers the sound as your voice though, his body language softens. Your voice so sweet and melodic in his ears. “I would never turn down an opportunity to see your tits. Wet.”

‘You could see them more often if you just fell in love with me already,’ you think to yourself, peeling off your cherry-printed thong and oversized shirt before stepping into the warm shower.

He looks so dreamy in the sauna of your shower.

Your pupils pause when they land on the unbelievably minuscule nipples that you always tease him for. His cheeks and chest are a soft baby pink. Your favorite color. Whether it’s from the scalding water or him nailing you into the rickety mattress earlier, you can’t tell. All the fog makes him look even more heavenly than usual, like an angel descending from the clouds.

You’re down bad.

There’s a speck of clay still on his chin, covering that little brown freckle you love so much. You cup the side of his face, thumb swiping away the leftover mask. He leans into your palms, lips chasing your finger to press a soft kiss on the pad of it.

Why must he make things so difficult for you?

“I got it,” he mumbles, snatching the pink face cloth from your hand and reaching for what his peanut brain thinks is body wash.

“Jungkook, that’s shampoo.”

“What? No way,” he shakes his head confidently, picking up the slippery green bottle and reading the label with squinted eyes.

You were right, of course.

“Oh, I fucked up then” He smells like lavender and mint. The scent fills your nostrils when he grabs the actual body wash from the bamboo wall shelf, suctioned to the tile near your head. It's the same fragrance of your very fancy, very expensive, shampoo.

You glance at the bottle. It’s nearly empty.

“Jungkook! You’re such an idiot!”

“It’s not that deep, Bambi. Relax,” he chuckles nonchalantly.

“It’s not funny!” Read the shower, Jeon. Haircare is no laughing matter. You cross your arms over your chest, titty-viewing privileges revoked until further notice. “That stuff is expensive, Jungkook. It’s Paul Mitchell...”

“Not Paul Mitchell,” he humors you, bottom lip jutting out dramatically. His shiny silver lip ring and eyebrow piercing do nothing to aid his faux innocence. “I’ll buy you another bottle, I promise. I used it because it reminds me of you. Smells so good.”

Jungkook squeezes the soap onto the pink cloth before running it over your body, lathering the vanilla-scented bubbles on your skin. Hands caressing every part of you so gently, as if you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever dealt with. Afraid to break you in his careless and clumsy palms.

He’s cleaning you so tenderly that it makes your lovesick heart pound.

He’s diligent too, squatting down awkwardly to wash your manicured toes, balancing your foot on top of his knee. He lets out an airy laugh when your foot jerks under his sneaky tickling fingers.

Even on your most intimate parts, his touch stays pure and delicate. He cups your breasts, cleaning under them and around them. The damp cotton barely ghosts over your nipples. He’s never been shy to pinch, suck, or even bite them before. It doesn’t feel right to him in this context though. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfy or ruin the moment by doing or saying something dirty.

Sometimes, Jungkook makes you feel so… important. So cared for.

You cling to him when he washes your back, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into the solid surface of his chest. You stay like that for a moment. Holding eachother under the warm stream of the shower. Savoring it while he’s still with you like this.

Blissful peaks.

The gentle swirls and shapes he draws against your skin lulls you into a trance. All you can hear is his heart beating.

It’s so close but so out of reach.

You count the seconds between the faint thumps. So distracted and content that your ears block out the sharp sounds of water hitting tile. All you hear is him.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

A quick swat to your ass brings you back to reality.

You peep out a small moan, jolting forward from the impact.

“You like when I do that,” he deduces, the corner of his lip pulling into a crooked smirk as he massages your stinging behind. “When I have my way with you. Don’t you, Bambi?”

You nod, cheek still smushed into his wet chest. How humiliating.

“You’re a lot more submissive than I thought you’d be.”

“You thought about me before we started hooking up?” You counter, voice taking on a teasing tone to hide the flutter in your chest. He wanted you too. The thought was reassuring.

“Mm, maybe.” His hardening cock, brushing right against your inner thigh, tells you the answer. “The version of you in my head was confident, though. Knew what she wanted and took it.”

He whispers the last part, gaze floating down to your lips and licking his bottom one in preparation. The telltale signs of an incoming smooch. You close your eyes, expecting a sweet kiss-

“I get that you’re still learning how to fuck,” he shrugs. “So no biggie.”

Asshole. He's taunting you.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not a bad thing…” he coos, patronizingly. “Just the Bambi I know would never let a man tell her what to do.”

Any implication of you being compliant and passive, especially to a male counterpart, would normally send you into a rampage. He never understood how someone so kind could also be so viscous. When angry, you were comparable to a fire-breathing dragon, destroying villages and burning people alive with your blazing articulate tongue. Jungkook would never tell you that though, lest you think he was calling you ugly and reptilian.

That couldn’t be further from the truth, because he found it so fucking sexy when you were mad. And the bubbles of irritation were already brewing in your stomach.

You’re falling right into his trap.

“I don’t,” you argue through gritted teeth. “And I always take what I want.”

“That’s not true,” Jungkook tutts his tongue at you. “You want me so bad and you haven’t done anything about it.”

Your heart drops. Is it that obvious you have a big fat crush on him?

“Why don’t you show me a little bit, then?” He huffs, voice pleading and whiny. He grabs your hand and guides it around his semi-hard member, engulfing your’s in his tattooed one. “Touch me how you want.”

Oh, he meant sexually. You let out a sigh of relief.

Even partially soft, his cock feels heavy in your hand. Your fingertips barely meet around the shaft, pink mushroom tip poking out of your tiny fist. Two months. Two months of seeing his cock every three to five business days, and you’re still intimidated by the sheer size of him. How could you not be? He was massive.

He knocks his wet forehead against yours. His gaze is trained on his growing cock, tongue fiddling with his lip ring as he focuses. So visual.

Hm. It could be fun to take control. Especially when he was practically begging for it.

Jungkook prefers to be the pleasing partner. Foreplay usually consists of him licking and touching every square inch of you until you’re squirming. You’ve never seen him so needy and desperate before.

Most dicks were ugly. Monstrous even. In the flesh, you’ve seen a whopping total of three penises throughout your lifetime, Jungkook’s included. A small sample size for your age. But you’ve watched enough porn to know that they were anything but aesthetically pleasing.

You’ve always been drawn to the finer, pretty things in life.

And his is so so pretty.

It’s not overly vascular. The veins running along his shaft are subtle, you can only feel them when you give him a hard tug. His skin is smooth and supple. Pelvis clean-shaven. Despite his little skincare mishaps, you can know he takes good care of himself. It’s a quality you found extremely attractive.

Languidly stroking up, you twist your wrist over the swollen tip. Your grip isn’t as tight as he likes and you know it, purposely dragging over the upward curve with an unbearably loose fist. The running water makes the glide easy as you pump him languidly, stopping at the crown and squeezing to give him a little relief.

He peeps out a dreamy sigh when a pearl of dew leaks out of the slit. You coo at the sight, using your thumb to smear the wetness around his sensitive head.

A dirty Jungkook-type thought pops into your head.

“Put it in your mouth,” you command, holding your glistening digit in front of his big nose.

He hesitates for a moment. It’s fair. You were literally asking him to taste his own precum. His black pupils dart to your thumb, over to your face, and then back to your thumb.

Has he never done this before?

He’s apprehensive, but fiercely competitive to the core. Never one to turn down a challenge. You’ve known that since you met him, when he nearly had a meltdown over losing a simple game of beer pong.

He takes the pad of your thumb into his pink pucker, sucking on it like a sugary lollipop. His lustful eyes lock onto yours when his tongue just barely grazes over your skin. They’re pleading, so desperate for your approval.

“Good boy… now spit.”

You feel his cock twitch against your stomach, wet tip leaving a sticky trail to your belly button. He obliges, letting a string of spit land in your palm. You hum contently, wrapping your hand around his shaft again. Coating him in his own saliva.

“I love that,” he moans out, voice so turned on that you have to clench your thighs together for friction. They’re already clammy with arousal.

“Love what?” You tease. “Praise or my hand?”

“Both,” he admits with no hesitation, hips recoiling and subtly thrusting into your palm. He slicks back his bothersome bangs to get a better view.

He looks so good with his forehead out.

“Does that feel good?”

He nods halfheartedly, tunnel-visioned in on the way you’re just fucking milking him. The nasty wet clicking noises filling the air only make his impending orgasm build up quicker. Jungkook has always prided himself on his stamina, but he’s already feeling that overwhelming pooling in his balls.

“Are you gonna cum?”

“Yeah, Bambi...” He sighs, mouth dropping when he’s done speaking. Thick brows knitting together. Face contorting in the way it always does when he’s about to bust.

You tug him hard and fast until he’s teetering on the point of no return-

And then you stop.

The muscles at the base of his cock contract and expand, making it bounce up against his pelvis. The creamy skin at the base transitions into a vibrant flush at the tip. So swollen and angry. So ready to cum.

“Fuck!” He shouts, slamming the side of his fist against the tile wall, snarled teeth look too ferocious to be bunny-like. The hooded gaze he shoots you is scary, even angrier than his cock.

It looks painful.

You feel bad, truly.

But it was a small glimpse of the pain you felt when he blue-balled your love and affection.

“I cum first,” you taunt with a smirk, pressing a gentle peck on his lips. He doesn’t reciprocate, pout cemented in a firm straight line. “Then you.”

His tattooed knuckles sneak under your wet hair, curling around the back of your neck. The other is grips on your shoulder, trimmed nails digging into the delicate skin as he shoves you forward. You gasp, bouncing breasts squished against the shower door, cool slippery glass brushing against sensitive nipples.

Jungkook usually takes the lead during sex, gently coaching you through the motions until you’re both silly-smiled and starry-eyed in post orgasm bliss. You’ve never seen him so domineering. A sharp juxtaposition to the whiny boy who was desperately seeking words of affirmation a few minutes ago.

His duality has you embarrassingly wet.

“I’m sorry,” he grunts, nuzzling into your shoulder and placing a few gentle, apologetic pecks on your skin. “I don’t mean to be so abrasive.”

Abrasive.

That was a big word, for him atleast. His vocabulary has expanded a bit. The thought makes you gleam.

“You’re just-” The words are broken off by an airy chuckle. “I’m so fucked.”

There’s no time for you to mull over the hidden meanings of his words. He nudges your legs apart with his knee, muscular thigh pressing right into your sopping sex. You moan at the contact, grinding down on it until it’s rudely snatched away.

“Isn’t someone greedy?” His voice is muffled, lips preoccupied with kissing a messy trail down your spine before dropping to his knees behind you. Right on the shower floor. “You’ve already cum. Twice.”

You had sex just a few hours. And he did indeed, make you cum twice. Once on his fingers and once around his cock.

It wasn't enough, though. Never enough with him.

“Want more...”

“I know you do, just…” His words dissipate when spreads one cheek to the side, distracted by the mesmorising sight of your glistening slit and puckering hole. “Stay still. Let me look at you.”

The lack of sensory information has you on edge. From your position, you can’t see him. Only catching blurry glimpses of a tattooed arm when it extends into your field of vision. It’s hard to hear the nasty declarations that pour out of his mouth over the pitter-patter of water. There’s no perceptible clues that help you predict his next movements. You have to wait until you feel them.

His big hands knead your skin, making the fatty parts jiggle with his thumbs resting under each cheek. “Wow…” he peeps in admiration before shoving his entire face in your ass, vigorously shaking his head side to side.

He’s so lewd.

You squeak when his sneaky tongue pokes out.

“No…”

“Why?”

“That’s so… dirty.” You don’t mean you, of course. Even in the drunkest of states, you could execute a ten step skincare routine flawlessly, facial rollers and all. You were referring to the act.

“I mean… we’re kinda past that, don’t you think?”

You hum a contemplative noise. He had a point.

“Don’t you like it, baby?” A soft kiss is placed against the cinched muscle. “When I play with you like this?”

Baby.

He hasn’t called you that since he walked you home from the party. Your stomach somersaults.

“I love it,” you confess with a sigh.

“Then why is it dirty? I’m just making you feel good, aren’t I?” He coos, placing the pad of his thumb on the untouched area. There’s no pressure behind it, just light strokes around the rim. “I can make you feel so good, if you just let me do what I want.”

What he’s implying is nerve-wracking. Anal play was something you never even considered dabbling in.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You trust him and you’re consumed by lust, so you give a small nod.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Do whatever you want, Koo… anything.”

There’s a sharp exhale and then soft fingers massaging tight circles on your clit. You relax into the touch. A tried and true method of making you feel good, and hopefully, ease you into the uncharted waters with little tension. Jungkook lets a string of spit fall between your cheeks, knowing you’ll need the extra lubrication.

“Fu- hmm,” you hum through curled lips when his thick thumb slowly prods in, only up to the first knuckle. It’s not as painful as you expected. A little strange and unfamiliar, but the stretch was oddly pleasurable. “S’ good.”

“No one has ever been in here before, right? Only me?”

“Only you.” You mewl, grinding back into his hand. The confession makes him moan. The thought of defiling you, ruining you, does things to him and to his leaking cock.

“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll get you a butt plug.” He pauses, before adding an afterthought. “A small one with a pink gem.”

You don’t respond, enjoying the feeling of his hand too much to speak.

“Yeah,” he hums to himself. “Gonna double dip you one of these days.”

“Koo,” you whine. “Please do something.”

He can’t deny you. Not when there’s those dreamy, desperate hues in your voice. Jungkook spins, sitting on the ground before shuffling backwards until his back is against the shower door. Positioned directly between your legs. Right under your leaking cunt.

“Ride my face,” he whimpers. “Please…”

In your limited experience, and via the data you’ve collected from third-party sources (Mina), guys only ever beg to receive oral sex.

But Jungkook is different. Here he was, fully prepared to devour your pussy like it’s his last meal on death row.

Hopefully the crime committed isn’t breaking your heart.

“Jungkook, you don’t- fuck!” His mouth is on you before you can even finish the sentence. Toned arm wrapped around your thigh, pulling you down onto his thirsty tongue like you’re a refreshing drink on a hot summer day.

The cool metal of his lip ring brushing against your outer lips as he delivered long unhurried licks between them, had your thighs trembling. You were so worked up and he’s barely even touched you.

The position is great, amazing even, but it’s hard to hold him like you want. You twist awkwardly reaching behind you and letting your fingers trace the outline of his sharp jaw. You can literally feel his tongue working under the skin, collecting as much of your sweet dew as possible before swallowing it in big gulps.

The combination of your juices and the running water makes Jungkook-

“Feel like I'm drowning,” he laughs, sending hot breaths into your core.

You peep an apology before standing on your toes, trying to create some breathing room.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” His free hand grabs your ass, fingertips digging into the plush surface as he pulls you back down. The motion makes his large nose brush against your clit, bulbous tip sneaking under the hood, tickling your most sensitive spot.

“Fuck, baby.” you whine, already feeling a sticky hot climax approaching.

“Don’t be shy.” The thick thumb, still hooked inside of you, begins rocking back and forth, moving your hips in tandem. Encouraging you to grind onto his face. “Use me.”

Despite the assertive facade, you were deeply insecure. You’ve never felt more liberated, more comfortable, than when Jungkook’s hands were on you, though. Caressing every undesirable part of you. Touching you in ways that made you swoon. Completely worshiping you.

With that in mind, you build up the courage to move freely. Humping his face like you do your pillow when you’re alone and needy for him.

You find yourself saying this often with Jungkook, but you’ve never felt so good.

There’s little muffled moans under the sound of the shower. Between the wet strands of hair, you can see his thick brows pulled in at the middle. Features contorted to form that cute little yummy face he makes every time he eats good food. Or in this case, your pussy.

You giggle deliriously, gently pushing back his wet tresses. They’re silky and pliant from your conditioner. Your thumb smoothes over one of his brows in an attempt to tame the angry arch. Afraid to hurt him, you stop immediately when you feel his piercing.

The look he gives you when he peers up at you sends you spiraling. There’s something so raw behind his eyes.

It almost looks like…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You shout when your orgasm washes over you, hips jerking wildly and uncontrollably. Powerful waves of pleasure run through you. One after the other in rapid succession, leaving your legs shaking and your petite fingers clawing at his scalp.

He doesn’t stop until you make him, with a fistful of hair and a rough yank. Wet lips smacking together as he coos, taking in the sight of the overstimulated body before him. You feel empty when he removes his thumb from your sore hole and climbs to his feet.

“Your mouth,” you whine. “It’s too much.”

“I know,” he hums in agreement, hugging you from behind before continuing with an airy chuckle. “Nayeon told me that I have an oral fixation.”

Nayeon.

Your heart drops at the mention of her name.

Why was he thinking about Nayeon? Especially now, when he was being intimate with you-

‘Don’t overthink it,’ you tell yourself. It was probably just a flippant comment he made without thinking…

“Oh no,” Jungkook groans dramatically, tattooed hand scrubbing over his face in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, craning your neck to look at him.

“I only brought one condom,” he says in distraught, emphasizing the one like it was the biggest mistake of his life. “And we already used it.”

Hm. Now seems like a good time to ask him the question you’ve been avoiding for weeks.

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?”

An eerie pause fills the air. You don’t like the way he hesitates.

“No… I always use protection anyways… and I just got tested last week.”

You don’t like the way he answers. Almost like he didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t necessarily want to admit the truth either.

You don’t push the matter further. You're afraid that if you do, he’ll drift away. Float onto the next shiny, less complicated, thing that catches his wandering eyes.

“It’s okay. Just fuck me, Jungkook.”

“Are you sure?” He looks at you with wide, sparkly eyes. They appear almost animated, hand drawn in the same style as your favorite cartoon. “We don’t have to. I would never-”

“I want to.”

You just want him.

“Are you on the pill?”

“Mhm.”

He exhales a sigh of relief, head dropping to thank whatever higher power exists for making this happen. The stars aligned to make this happen. He gets to fuck you now. Raw.

When his hands land on your ass, they’re shaky and unorganized. You can’t tell if it’s from adrenal of excitement. His cock is at the perfect angle to slot between your cheeks without the help of his hands. Jungkook pushes them together, rutting his hips into the tight squeeze, moaning softly when his pink tip pokes out at the top.

“No more teasing,” you huff with a pout.

“Put me in then, sweetheart.”

Another term of endearment. You wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. If he knows how you feel about him and is levying that affection against you. Using sweet words to lull you into any situation of his choosing.

You sigh, reaching between your legs. His couch is so touch-starved from the foreplay, the orgasm you denied him, that the contact makes it jump. You rub the engorged head over your clit, flicking it up and down over the swollen nub.

“Thought you said no teasing.” He gruffs, strained and fucked out.

You nod in response, licking your lips as you guide him to your entrance. His heart beating so sternly in his chest that you can feel his pulse in the crown of his cock. So turned out and it’s all because of you.

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape when he slides in slowly. You’re both so wet from the shower and your own arousals, that there’s barely any resistance. Just a smooth glide until he’s buried to the hilt. Hushed, needy gasps escaping from both of you.

“Ah- fuck,” he grunts, hips jolting forward even though there’s no more length to give, pelvis mushing into you. You have to brace yourself with flat palms to prevent your head from knocking into the glass. “I’m in love with this pussy…”

The sweet, filthy words make you clench around him.

Jungkook watches with parted lips as he pulls out. Top lip twitching in a snarl when he sees how creamy and shiny you made his cock. You always do, but this is the first time he’s actually witnessing it, feeling it, without any barrier.

“My favorite pussy…” he whispers, gripping your waist as leverage before he starts pounding into you. Closing his eyes to focus on his rhythm, savoring the way your warm, wet, natural ridges feel on his cock

Even from behind, his curve does wonders on your g-spot. The smooth underside deliciously strokes that sweet spot with every deep plunge. Your breasts bounce when his hips crash into yours, making the very tips of your nipples teasingly brushing against the wet glass. The coolness sends tingles through your burning skin.

“When can I really play with you?” He pants. “Use my vibrator until you’re cumming buckets, huh?”

“Whenever we stay at yours…”

He doesn’t respond, leveling you with a simple hum instead.

“Nah, I prefer going to the girl’s place-” Jungkook had slurred to Taehyung, projecting his voice over the static of the party. Loud enough for your unsuspecting ears to pick up the sound. “I feel bad for asking them to leave after, so it just makes things easier.”

That was before you started hooking up, but the memory still stings.

A lightbulb turns on Jungkook’s brain as he watches the running water hit your back. He reaches for the shower head, clicking the silver lever three notches to the left. Jet mode.

The ugliest sob rips though your chest when he places it directly on your clit.

“Jungkook!” The stream is so powerful that it sends you into a panic. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” his lips are smushed to your temple, trying to shush your cries. “Gotta practice for the Hitachi, don’t you baby?”

The constant stimulation from the water and his cock makes your orgasm build up much quicker than anticipated. There’s wetness on your cheeks. It's not from the splashing water pummeling directly into your clit. You feel so euphoric and overstimulated that you’re crying. There’s nothing you can do to stop the unbearable pleasure that’s coursing through your veins.

You nearly blackout when you cum. Vision blurry. Hearing fading in and out. Legs giving out underneath you. Jungkook has to catch you, abruptly dropping the shower head to wrap his big arms around your waist before you plummet to the ground in bliss.

When you can support yourself again, he hangs up the forgotten metal, maneuvering you around until you’re facing him. He picks you up with an inked arm hooked under your thighs, free hand grazing over your back in soothing circles.

“I didn’t push you too far, did I?” He asks worriedly.

You shake your head. He did, but you absolutely loved it. You peep when you feel the tip of his cook, still achingly hard, against your backside. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry.”

“No,” you protest. “Want you to cum too.”

He looks at you, gnawing on his bottom lip like he’s contemplating something. “I’ll be quick.”

Jungkook lays you down on the shower floor gently, the same way he does on your twin bed. A grimace laces through your features. Over the last month, you’ve been swamped with homework, putting a wedge in your normal routine. The last time you cleaned out the shower was two whole weeks ago.

Disgusting.

All complaints are forgotten when he’s inside of you, though. You would brace the bacteria and germs to have Jungkook between your legs.

“You’re so pretty,” he huffs, admiring the way your hair fans out across the white porcelain. Leaning forward, Jungkook presses his entire weight on top of you, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. There’s a gust of wind on your shoulder as he breathes in your scent.

The whole atmosphere feels different.

The slow sensual grind of his hips makes you dizzy. You swear you’re hallucinating when you feel his hands graze up your arms, fingers interlocking with yours.

“Look at me.”

You crane your neck, wide eyes meeting his hooded ones. You breath hitches in your throat when you take in his expression. He’s looking at you the same way he did earlier.

If you didn’t know better, you would say he’s looking at you like he’s in love with you.

“I’m close,” he whispers, nudging his forehead against yours. He kisses you so delicately. There’s no heady teeth or rushed tongues. Just a sweet, soft kiss. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside.”

When he cums, it’s gentle and low. His hips never falter from their slow pace like they usually do when he climaxes. He doesn’t moan lewdly or say anything dirty. He just stays clung to you, panting softly until he rides out his high.

You feel so warm and happy when he fills you up.

He stays on top of you while he catches his breath. You don’t mind, petite hands scratching over his back. Listening to the calming, rain-like sounds of the shower.

“Do you want to go to bed?” You peep after a few minutes.

“I can’t sleepover tonight, Bambi,” he coos, sitting back on his knees. You feel empty when he pulls out. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“Oh… well, you’re still coming over tomorrow, right? So can we finish the season?” You question, recalling the pinky promise he made you last week.

“Raincheck,” he pouts. “I have something to do for one of my classes.”

You follow him to the door once you’re both dried off and dressed.

“Goodnight,” he places a dramatic kiss on the top of your head, pulling away with a little ‘muah’ sound. Something in the corner of your room catches his eye before he leaves. “Did you steal my hat?”

Your eyes follow his finger, pointing straight to the black bucket hat on your desk.

“You gave it to me.”

“I did?” He looks at you in confusion. “I don’t remember that.”

“Fuck off,” you groan, cocooning your blanket over your disturbed ears. You wanted nothing more than to rewatch Sailor Moon and mope, but the fireworks would not fucking stop. Where is campus police? And why are they letting dumb frat boys light off explosives?

You sigh, watching Usagi and Rei fight over Tuxedo Mask again. You know what the outcome will be. The thought of your favorite character falling victim to the unforgiving strain of unrequited love makes your heart hurt.

You tilt your head. Tuxedo Mask kinda looks like someone you know.

The show was supposed to be distracting, make you forget the fact that you got stood up but a guy you’ve been crushing on for months. But even your alone time has become daunting. Consumed by him. Everything reminds you of Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

You sigh, closing out the app in favor of scrolling through Instagram. The first picture you see on your feed is of Nayeon. Just your luck.

It was posted two minutes ago. You recognize the ugly brown couch in the background. She’s clearly at a party, form-fitting black mini dress complimenting her figure perfectly.

Your self-loathing mind guides your self-loathing fingers to zoom in on every little detail and compare yourself to her. Pretty hair. Perfect makeup. Tiny waist that curves out into her full hips. Long legs. Jungkook. Straight, pearly white teeth. Nice jawline-

Jungkook?

You do a double take, eyes scanning the photo until they land on him again. He’s lingering in the background, back against the wall, looking down at his phone. You stay zoomed in on him for a while, staring at your phone screen until your vision goes blurry.

Every doubt and insecurity you’ve harbored over the last few months hits you in a drowning, suffocating wave.

Exhausting valleys.

Why did you even agree to this? This stupid friends with benefits relationship.

You knew you would get hurt, but you didn’t think it would hurt this bad. Not only did he lie to you, he was with Nayeon.

Nayeon. You can’t fucking stand her-

You shake your head furiously and throw your phone to the foot of your bed.

You don’t mean that…

Since when were you the type to hate another woman over a dumb guy? Or have unprotected sex? Or let someone so careless and selfish infiltrate your heart and mind?

How could you compare yourself to Nayeon when you two are in the exact same position?

You think about the night you fell for him, when he walked you home in the moonlight. She must have felt the same you do now. You’re similar in your desire to be with him, knowing you'll get hurt in the end.

Because being with Jungkook for a little while was better than not being with him at all.

It’s his eyes. They’re dark but so tender. The way they look at you like you’re the only thing that matters. The way they glow when he talks about things that interest him. Or how they dart up towards his forehead when he can’t find the right words to say-

“__?” Mina calls, standing in the doorway with a takeout bag. You hadn’t even noticed her come in. “Why are you crying?”

“Huh?” You peep, eyes fluttering down to the little wet spots on your blanket.

Without even realizing it, you had grown to love Jungkook so much.

You spent the rest of the night sobbing in Mina’s arms.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe #bts #bts smut #jungkook drabble #bts x reader #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook angst #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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aemrsy · 1 month

Text

booze n' loving

a\n: can we pls appreciate the fact that the picture in the middle is jake and johnnie's actual kitchen because it's the inspiration behind the entire fic 😭

tw: drinking, being drunk

-------------------------------------

the floor of your room was a mess due to the tornado that had happened in your closet whenever you were picking out your outfit.

you were sitting amongst the mess of clothes on the floor doing your makeup in the mirror you truly believed that if your not doing your makeup on the floor you're not doing it right.

you had paramore playing in the background but the music was disrupted by a ding you looked down at your phone, it was tara.

hey love, i'm on my way to urs x

9:57

drive safe x

9:57

you put your phone down in your lap finishing up your makeup. you and tara had a party to go to tonight at jake and johnnie's, this would be the first party you've gone to in a minute so you were a little nervous but the fact that it was at your boyfriend's house made you feel a lot more comfortable.

you knew you'd probably end up spending the night there so you packed up all your little essentials in a small bag.

you got up off the floor taking one good look at yourself before smiling and tucking a hair behind your hair.

you got a call from tara indicating that she had arrived so you hurried to the front door.

her blindingly pink car was indeed there she smiled as she motioned for you to come and get in.

you got in the car before giving tara one of those awkward car hugs. her hair smelled like her signature perfume and she was wearing the glasses she had stolen from you last time she came over.

"tar, you smell amazing"

she giggled her laugh was always so contagious

"babe you look amazing..tonight is gonna be so great i can't wait"

you nodded in excitement. tara's phone was connected to the car's bluetooth but she wasn't playing anything it was quiet but it was a comfortable slince that's until it was disrupted by tara's phone ringing on the car's speaker.

"dude did you pick up y/n yet?"

it was jake you could hear the chattering and loud music in the background

"yeah we're on our way we'll be there in about 5 minutes?"

she said in a question-esque tone

"mkay drive safe"

he hung up and the rest of the car ride was nice and quiet

you made it there and tara ran in immediately this was her scene she's definitely a party girl at heart.

you on the other hand walked in and scanned the room searching for johnnie, the kitchen counter was cluttered with drinks and you saw a few familiar faces before seeing your boyfriend leaning against the edge of the counter your face lit up as you approached him.

he grabbed you by the waist and you gave him a soft peck on the lips

"hey baby"

he said looking at you sweetly

"hey handsome"

you giggled as he peppered your neck in kisses still holding onto your waist. he smelled like cologne and jack daniels.

"i need a drink"

you said before turning around to face the counter fixing yourself a jack and coke.

one turned into two and three and now it had been four you were wasted out of your mind but it was a fun kind of wasted you felt so loose and comfortable just free.

you were by the pool table dancing with tara she also wasted out of her mind you guys were laughing at absolutely everything and everyone. a couple hours had passed since you guys had arrived it was definitely somwhere in the am's right now.

your horrible dancing and obnoxious giggling was interrupted by your boyfriend pulling your fifth drink out of your hands.

"okay.. i think that's enough sweetheart"

he said chuckling, you looked up at him and gave him a big goofy smile.

"johnnieeeeee"

you said as you practically fell into his arms he held you up gently tucking stray hairs out of your face.

you noticed jake walk outside probably for a smoke you weren't a smoker but let's be real drunk cigarettes don't count and a smoke sounds really good right about now.

you stumbled out of johnnie's arms after excusing yourself and made your way over to jake in the balcony. johnnie sighed following you to the balcony leaving tara to mingle with everyone else.

"hey jakee"

you said slurring your words and stretching your e's

"woah nelly, someone's out of it"

he said in his southern-esque accent with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"you got another one of those?"

before jake had a chance to reply johnnie came up behind you handing you water and told you to drink up. you weren't a big drinker it was very rare that you'd drink like this but it wasn't a cause for concern you were just trying to have fun.

you gave in and chugged down some water. he pulled you in and kissed you on the forehead.

jake stood there puffing on his cigarette he gave johnnie a look and motioned that he should take you back inside before you go asking anyone else for cigarettes.

johnnie did as he was told the party got quiter people were leaving. you and johnnie cuddled up on the couch he was stroking your hair while talking to someone on the other side of the couch you could feel yourself slowly drifting to sleep.

you woke up later to the house being almost completely empty but you and johnnie were still in the same spot on the couch you looked up at him before speaking.

"hey where's everyone?"

you got up looking around holding your head that was throbbing with a headache.

"they left babe, you drank a little too much and fell asleep on me i didn't wanna wake you up so i just let you."

you groaned laying back on him

"can we go up to your room? i'm sleepy."

you said still slurring your words, he got up taking your hand in his you both walked up to his room you kicked off your boots and opened johnnie's closet picking out a band shirt you stripped to your bra and panties and slipped the t-shirt over your head you fell onto the bed and let out a satisfied sigh.

johnnie followed after you the two of you got under the sheets he was rubbing circles around your back as you nuzzled your head into his chest and drifted off once again into a comfortable sleep.

#jake and johnnie #johnnie and jake #jake webber #jake webber x reader #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #tara yummy x reader #tara yummy #johnnie guilbert x you #the tinas

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harrywavycurly · 9 days

Text

What You Deserve Part 3: Start Small

Masterlist: Here

CW: Tiniest mention of your toxic ex

Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies

A/N: You might be nervous but don’t worry Eddie’s got you also it’s a long one so I split it up into sections and it’ll make sense as you read, enjoy🫠✨

“Good Morning.” “Good Morning…uh you didn’t have to knock on my door you could’ve just honked or-” “honked?…sweetheart I’m not sixteen and running late to school….I’m here to pick you up so that means I knock on the door or ring the bell…whatever you prefer and walk you to my car.” “Oh…Steven just honks…it’s not that big of deal really if it’s easier than getting all the way out-” “it’s not your job to make things easier on anyone…especially Harrington.” “Sorry…I’ll uhm work..on that.” “You don’t have to apologize…so shall we exit the porch now or did you want to stand here for a bit longer?” “Oh yeah yeah we can go…holy shit is that your car?” “One of them yeah…do you not like it? I went with the one that has the smoothest ride…since I know feeling comfortable while inside a car is important to you.” “It’s so…nice I don’t want to like…get it dirty or anything.” “Sweetheart…it’s car…it’s gonna get dirty and that’s fine I’ll just wash it…trust me…there’s nothing you could do that I can’t fix…so please…get in the car.”

“Okay…” “Your coffee is right there…and feel free to change the radio to whatever you want.” “Thank you…oh you don’t care if I touch this stuff?” “Well you’re going to have to touch it if you want to change the station…” “I’m uh not used to being able to mess with the buttons in the car if I’m not driving.” “Please tell me Harrington-” “No no Steven lets me but him and I listen to the same stuff so it was fine…it was uh…my last uhm boyfriend he..didn’t let me control anything in the car.” “Well let’s get this out of the way now okay?…I’m Eddie…or to you I’m sure you’d prefer to call me Edward but either way…I’m not your ex…so whatever he was like and by the sounds of it he wasn’t a very…nice guy…so just know I’m not like him…so feel free to touch all the buttons and change the station..hell roll your window down if you want I don’t care…what’s mine is yours okay?” “Really?” “Yes..that’s a big part of this…type of relationship…whatever I have you also have…and if there’s something you want then just tell me and I’ll do my best to get it for you.” “Oh wow…okay…uh so when you say relationship what uhm…what would I call you?” “What do you mean?” “Like…when you drop me off today and someone asks oh who was that? Is that your boyfriend? What…what should I say? I can’t just be like oh that’s just my…sugar daddy Eddie.” “Yeah that’s sort of a mouthful isn’t it?” “I mean that’s uh just assuming you….you want to be my daddy…sugar daddy…sorry I’m just nervous and you’re…a uhm little intimidating in person but not in a bad way it’s…it’s like in the same way I’d feel around Tony Soprano or someone like that.” “Did you just compare me to a mob boss? That’s the vibes I give off?….if so then me and my stylist need to have a conversation about my wardrobe.” “You have a stylist?” “She does my shopping for me once every two months or so because I hate shopping for clothes….but Tony Soprano…really?” “I mean…you just look like you could easily have someone whacked with the snap of a finger and…yet you also look like you give really good hugs which is important because sometimes a good hug can just fix everything and…and you just…I feel…safe? Even though I don’t really know you…I’d trust you with my drink at a party.” “I’m honored that you’d leave your drink with me at a party and I’m glad you feel safe with me…but you make me sound like I’m some super badass dude…when I’m just a business owner who doesn’t have any mafia connections at all so no matter how many times I snap my fingers no one is getting whacked…” “damn..I was going to give you a list.” “But I have been told I give good hugs.” “That’s good…that’s really good to know….so uhm…how do we actually do this? Do I sign something? Do you want a trial run to see if I annoy you or not?” “I don’t need a trial run…also this isn’t fifty shades of grey I don’t need you to sign anything.” “You’ve seen those movies?” “No I read the books.” “Oh…you…you like to uhm…read? That’s…great.” “So why don’t we start small for now?” “Okay…what does that mean exactly?” “You let me take you to and from work this week and we can get to know each other more and…you let me buy you dinner Friday night?” “Okay that…sounds fine.” “And Friday over dinner we can discus what we both want out of this? Does that sound doable?” “Yes…that’s doable.” “Perfect.”

“Harrington isn’t even here yet and the store opens in five minutes?” “Yeah but that’s fine I have a key and can open the store up.” “By yourself?” “Yeah? I do it all the time.” “That’s…not safe…Steve should know better than that.” “It really is okay…oh are you going to see Dave today?” “I am…I’m actually going to work on him myself.” “Really?” “Yeah I figured he deserved to be worked on by someone that knows his life story…I’m gonna do what I can for him don’t worry.” “Easier said than done…” “I know…oh look who decided to actually show up to work.” “He’s not late so that’s actually good timing for him…so uhm I’ll see you later?” “Yeah I’ll be here when your shift is over.” “So uh have a good day Eddie…” “thanks sweetheart…tell Harrington to call me.” “Uh oh he’s in trouble isn’t he?” “No…not at all…” “what are you-” “you didn’t think I’d let you open your own door did you?” “Oh…uhm well thank you.” “Have a good day…oh and please don’t wait for me outside when you’re done working okay? I’ll come inside and get you.” “Okay…I’ll see you later then…” “Yes…now I gotta go but I’ll tell Dave hello for you.” “Thanks…for uhm…everything.” “You’re welcome.”

#what you deserve series #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #sugar daddy!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson social media au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson #stranger things series #eddie munson series #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #my little dungeon master baby

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 10 months

Text

Robin never really got boys talk.

When Sarah turned 14 she invited all the girls in band for a sleepover. It started out fun. After her parents went to bed they put on a creepy horror movie and watched it in a huge cuddle pile. They braided each other's hair and did each other's nails and squeezed each other during tense scenes and muffled their shrieks after a sudden jumpscare.

After that they watched another one. This time Sarah sneaked her mother's makeup kit down to the living room, and so lipstick and eyeshadow joined the mess of nail polish, hair clips and snacks already on the floor.

The second movie was different. In the first one, the blood was obviously fake and the acting wasn't the best (to say the least). But the second one was tense through and through. The cries of pain were so visceral that Robin shuddered, and in the end everyone was terrified. It was silently and unanimously agreed upon that everyone had had enough TV for the night. It was already 3 in the morning, but tomorrow was the weekend and right now Robin wouldn't be able to sleep even if she wanted to, and thus began Robin's first real boys talk.

It was funny at first. Sarah pretended to die of heartbreak when "the blond hot one" was unfortunately the second to die. Heather said the nerdy one with glasses and abs was cuter, which started a very heated discussion of whether blond or brown is the more attractive hair color. Robin had to defend her correct "redheads" opinion all by herself.

(When the others got into a stalemate Sarah turned to Robin. "C'mon", she pleaded, "you know that the blond one was hotter. Just tell us which one you found prettier! And don't forget that this is my birthday party."

Robin laughed at the ribbing, played a bit hard to get, until she finally admitted. "I actually found the first one who died the prettiest." Sarah was already halfway through her victory dance, when Robin corrected her. "No, I don't mean the dude. I mean the first one. The girl with the pink purse."

Everything was silent for a moment.

Then Emma laughed. "You don't have to be jealous Robin", she consoled, "you are also very pretty."

"Yeah, especially after our makeover!"

Robin laughed and agreed and continued on as if her world just hadn't been turned on its axis. Because she knew that the stirring in her gut and the beating of her heart had nothing to do with jealousy. She didn't find the blond one hot or the brunet one cute. That was the first time she really knew it. She liked the girl.)

It was a bit funny the first time, even though she couldn't really join. It got less funny the more it went on. Suddenly boys was the only thing everyone wanted to talk about. And worse: it wasn't just unreachable famous boys like singers or actors anymore. Suddenly it was all "oh, Steve Harrington is sooooo cute" or "oh my god, Tommy Hagan had suuuuuuch a glowup" and "I want to lick the sweat of his body after basketball practice" (this last one was applicable to multiple different people, including Steve and Tommy. It was not applicable for Chrissy when she exited cheerleading practice or Beth after football.)

She thought it would get better when Emma finally confessed to her crush and they actually got together, but no. It somehow got worse. Because "normal boy talk" turned into "experienced boy talk", and Robin wasn't allowed to admit that the only thing that got wet when she thought of Billy Hargrove was her mouth, because he made her want to throw up.

At first she'd say that she didn't have crushes. After a while of people refusing to believe her (even if she was telling the truth! Sometimes.) she started pretending to be into Steve Harrington. Every girl had a crush on Steve, so it made sense that she'd been embarrassed to admit that she was just like everybody else. He was way too far above her league for her friends to force her to "confess" and she could stare without fear when he passed by in the halls with the beautiful Tammy Thompson in his arms. Truly, it was a brilliant plan. It didn't stop the boys talk, though.

So she became a tomboy. She joined football and she hung out with boys and she cut her long hair into a bob. She lost a bit of touch with Emma and Sarah and the others, but she tried not to think about it too much. Instead she threw herself into sports and started hanging out more and more with Matt, the second trumpet in band.

And that was that. Sometimes she missed wearing dresses, but it was a relief not to have her mother insisting she "do something about that hair" anymore. She and Matt became best friends. She even considered telling him for a while. Until he sat her down and confessed his feelings.

She tried to let him down as gently as possible, and they never talked again. The cycle would repeat for multiple times.

Someone out there is laughing their ass off because who would have thought that the dude she pretended to have a crush on would turn out to be the missing half of her soul?

It started out like always. She teased him, he laughed. They suffered through customer service together. He was funny and surprisingly in touch with his emotions and apparently babysat a bunch of middle schoolers, which was equally hilarious and adorable to watch. They both enjoy sports and they both hate Billy Hargrove with a passion and Robin is heartbroken because she knows she can't get attached. She has already been through this too many times to allow it to happen again. She gets close with a guy, they become best friends, he confesses, she can't reciprocate, they never talk again.

This is what is going to happen. She should already be used to it, but it still hurts. It's better for her to keep her distance. To encourage him to flirt with other girls, even if she can see that he mostly does it to amuse her.

And then they uncover an actual real life Russian spy network right beneath their place of work like some fucking blockbuster. And then they are pumped up with drugs and the next thing she knows is that they are both throwing up in a cinema bathroom.

And then it happens. Of course it happens.

He starts his little speech and her heart is already breaking. She surprises herself when she realizes how much she started enjoying Steve's company. He is a dingus, but she is also a dingus and they just fit.

She is already preparing her apology in her head (oh fuck work is going to be so awkward), but what comes out instead is what she wishes she could've said every time this happened. What she wished she could have said every time she got close to another person, every time her parents questioned if she finally found a boyfriend. Something she really tried not to feel ashamed of, but it was so fucking hard when you had to keep it hidden all the time.

(She remembers when she used to train in front of the mirror. She would stare at herself and repeat again and again "I am Robin Buckley and I am a lesbian. I am a lesbian. I am-")

She doesn't breathe as she waits for what she knows what comes next. What has to come next. There is a reason she never told anyone, always kept it hidden and to herself even if she wanted to scream it into the world. He will mock her and he will out her and he will be disgusted and-

"Tammy Thompson?!"

Instead they have girls talk. And Robin finally gets it.

#heteronormativity being like: every strong emotion you feel towards the other gender is romance #+ patriarchy being like: men are entitled to women #= robin suffering #</3 #fun fact i actually never had to invent a crush #like they questioned that i never seemed to be into anybody sometimes #but i always said it so vehemently and also outside of 'boys talk' that they just believed me after a while lol #but i know of multiple ppl who had to #robin stranger things #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #pen.#stranger things drabble #robin buckley drabble #stobin #platonic with a capital p #platonic stobin #does this count as a character study?

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kodamaghost00 · 3 months

Note

Can you do 30 headcanons for Sundrop?

30 Sun/Sundrop Headcanons

———————————————————[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw,Fluff,Smut

It’s also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys! You are a Technician in these scenarios!

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

His favorite nickname for you is “Sunshine!” but he calls you every nickname that he can find.

He always talks super eccentric wich leads you to misunderstanding him often.

In the after hours of the Pizzaplex he pins all the drawings that kids made for him on the walls in his room.

He’ll randomly pick you up and treat you like a toddler, just to mess with you.

He’s usually not roaming free in the Pizzaplex but when he’s concerned about you he’ll storm out within minutes.

He’s a desperate dude. He would beg just to let him fuck you. Just drooling over you and your perfect figure praising you every minute.

He can handle various types of kids who are different than others. He knows ASL and has bells around his wrist so the blind kids hear him.

He learns the names and interests from kids who are regularly with him.

He has a lot of stamina. Like. A LOT. So he can go on for hours and hours.

His head spikes spin when he cums, but he always puts his head behind though, so he won’t hurt you accidentally. “F-Fuck sunshine~ This is amazing!”

He loves making puppet shows for the little ones! And sometimes he’ll ask you to join him to make them more human and interesting to look at.

When the kids leave he’s usually very alone. Cleaning the daycare or searching for you to accompany him.

He’s a fan of Karaoke but he doesn’t want people to hear his voice.

One time you came into the daycare in the after hours to search for sun. His monthly maintenance was due but he was nowhere to be found.

It’s weird since he’s always on time. You look through the whole daycare but he wasn’t there. So you go to his room and look over it. And there he is bawled up in the corner.

“Sun? What’s up dear?” you asked gently knowing that he needs you right now. “Sunshine?! Oh… I’m so so sorry that you have to see me this way again.” He said in a super sad tone while looking on the ground. “Don’t worry Sunny. You know you can tell me everything…” He looks up at you with hope.

“Oh… I… uhm… the parents were talking about me again.” He continued to tell you how the parents were talking bad about him. It broke your heart. You sat down beside him and hug his slim build. “You’re the best Sun. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.” You give him a reassuring smile and you guys hug for a long time.

His love language is Acts of Service. He appreciates everything you do for him, even if it’s something small like leaving a sticky note for him.

He apologizes a lot too. Even for stuff that isn’t in his power.

He likes dancing with you. No matter if it’s more partying or if it’s more of a slow dance. “Come here sunshine. Let’s enjoy this moment…”

He’s not only programmed to entertain children but also to educate them. He has a wide range of languages and can count up to 100.

His dick is basically a tentacle. It’s twisted with moons part wich makes it even better to play with.

He has ADHD and uses stimming toys to calm himself. His favorite are the fidget cubes. He also got really sad that fidget spinners didn’t trend anymore.

Sometimes he wishes to be only one animatronic instead of two. After all Moon gets to spend all night with you and he doesn’t.

Every time the younger kids are explaining new memes to him he doesn’t understand. “Oh! What you drawing there small one?? What’s that? A skibidi Toilette…? That sounds disturbing…” You pat him on the shoulder. “Yeah no one gets what they like about…. That.” You say with a slight disgust on your face.

He also wished he could be more comfortable. His metal build isn’t really good for comforting the kiddos. He asked you a bunch of times if you can change something against that but you can’t due to the strict guidelines for him.

He tries to get into your special interests. Asking a bunch of questions so you know he’s interested in your life.

He’d be a switch with a bottom preference. He loves getting touched by you. But he also loves seeing you desperate.

One time you asked him if he still loved you. That man looked at you with the most shocked expression ever and just hugged you.

He hugged you and said “Oh Y/N… my sunshine… you’re the best thing that ever happened to me! I love you with all my body, heart and soul!” You guys just stand there holding each other for a very long time

———————————————————

That’s also finished! I wanna send a huge shoutout and thanks to @millenniumproductions !! I’ll make sure to fulfill all your requests sooner or later! If you’re new here you can also leave a Follow and request! And once again thank you for reading!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 4 months

Note

Hi sorry if this seems annoying!😭 can you do Ben and Jeff and masky with a newbie scared child reader like when they first saw them they where shaking in there boots? And just very scared of everyone😭 I hope you have an amazing day remember your worth it and im proud of youu!<3

Don't worry, you aren't annoying! Also, thank you for your kind words <33

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BEN

The first time BEN saw you was to bring you your uniform, as per his job as the supplier and technology manager

You were with sally, she was helping you get set up

When sally sees ben, she rushes over to him and asks if he wants to do a tea party with her and her new friend

He shakes his head "another time, sal"

Sally pouts while he walks over to put your uniform on your bed

"These are your uniform clothes. You wear them when you're working, especially if you're out on a mission. You're young, so you shouldn't have much work outside of the manor. Just keep them clean and ironed and you'll be good"

You stand there, looking up at him, shaking and furrowing your brows worriedly

He raises a brow and puts a hand on his hip "can you even manage a yes sir or a thank you? What a dope" he mutters before turning and leaving your room

After that he doesn't talk to you too often unless you talk to him

Which happens around 3 days later

"Mr. Ben can you help me...?"

"With what" he asks, not even pausing his game

"I don't know how to wash my clothes...im sorry" you whisper in a meek voice

He lets out a biiiiig sigh and stands up "alright, come on. Ask Tim for help with your clothes from now on. He's taller so he can actually reach the detergent. And he's also better at taking care of kids" he says as he walks downstairs to the laundry room

You follow behind him "im sorry.... mr. ben?"

"Hm?"

"Whos tim?"

Another biiiiig sigh

Jeff

Pretty much all of the kids were scared first time they saw jeff 💀

So no one was shocked when you reacted that way

After getting fairly acquainted with some other children, brian and liu, you mostly hung around them

One night however, there was a small party at the manor

Jeff, being the chronic hollywood undead listener of the house, of course is there

The party is being kept to the second level of the manor, in one of the living room areas, and is more so just a loud hangout than a party

The creeps partaking are listening to loud rock music, drinking beer and playing cards

You had gotten lost trying to find your room and eventually wandered into the area the get together was happening in

"Dude what's that little kid doing here" one of the creeps asks

This makes jeff turn the music down and look over at you

He is still in his work uniform, his hair is a mess and he looks obviously annoyed that he's getting interrupted

"You're that new kid, aren't ya? What are you doing up isn't it bed time for you worms?" He asks, standing and putting his beer on the table

Seeing how much taller he is than you only adds to the already intense fear "im sorry..." you whimper

"Yeah, yeah, run off to your room, kid" he says, waving his hand in a dismissing tone

"I-i don't know where it is" you whisper

He groans and bends down to your height "ok kid, do you have a caretaker around here somewhere?"

You shake your head and back away from him nervously. His breath reeks of nicotine and alcohol, and it makes your nose burn

"Alright, come on" he says, standing and grabbing your hand, leading you all the way down to Slender's office

There, slender is able to help you get back to your room safely while jeff goes back to drinking and playing cards upstairs

Masky

He is someone that a lot of kids turn to when they're unsure

He's one of the designated caretakers of the manor, basically meaning he helps the little kids with whatever they need

He doesn't mind this, because he likes to keep busy

So you coming to him was something he was pretty used to

However what he wasn't exactly used to was how timid you were

There are a lot of anxious kids in the manor, but to get a new kid in the manor is rare so it's been a while since he's had to deal with a kid this anxious

You knock on his door, to which he answers

"Um are you Tim?" You ask, fidgeting with your fingers

"Yeah, what's wrong, kiddo?" He asks, trying to make himself seem less threatning

Your face lights up a little bit at seeing you got the room number right "ok, uh i was told that you could help me reach the food? Im sorry, i just need the goldfish and I'll be out of your way"

He raises a brow "goldfish? Kid, it's only nine a.m. Don't you want some breakfast instead?"

"No that's ok i just need the goldfish..." you whisper

He steps out of his room and beckons you to follow "come on, I'll make you some actual food. How do you feel about pancakes? Or do you want something else?"

You scramble to follow after him, as he takes really big steps "no, pancakes is ok"

You sit at the table while he cooks your pancakes, and when he is done he sets the plate down in front of you and goes to pour you some juice

"Thank you" you whisper, beginning to eat

"Don't be afraid to come get me if you need anything else" he says, heading back up to his room

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ckret2 · 7 months

Text

Chapter 21 of honestly everyone's just sorta used to Bill being the shack's prisoner now (title tbd): Stan & Ford have a birthday party! Bill is not invited. He still manages to find a way to be fiendishly evil.

Also featuring: Wendy deciding what she thinks about "Goldie," the shack's mysterious secret "guest."

####

Mabel slid a piece of paper across the gas station front counter, listing a dozen scratch card serial numbers spread across three different games. "I'd like these numbers in these cards, please!"

The cashier gave the paper a dubious look, then looked at Wendy. "We're not supposed to sell the scratch cards outta order."

"Please?" Wendy asked. "Just a little exception? For us?"

"We really wanna play our lucky numbers," Mabel said. "Plus, I had a vision. In my sleep."

She and Wendy gave him their best big-eyed hopeful pouty looks.

The cashier shrank back. "Well..." He averted his gaze from the adorableness that was Mabel, and sighed. "Just this once. But I don't want to see you two in here with your nonsense again." He started unrolling one of the spools of scratch cards, inspecting the numbers. "These'll be over a hundred dollars."

Wendy winced. "Ooh. Mabel?"

Mabel offered three dollars and a quarter. "That's fine! Can we start with 177 from the beach cards?"

She received the card, depicting a pastel beachy scene next to five miniature bingo boards. She confidently scratched off the card to reveal its winning numbers, pointed at the fourth bingo board where she'd just gotten bingo, and said, "That's $200! Our payout, please."

The cashier took the card, inspected the numbers, and stared at Mabel in amazement. She grinned at him. Wordlessly, he opened his cash register, pulled out several twenties, and offered them over.

"Thank you!" Mabel accepted the money and pointed at the paper. "The rest of our cards, please?"

As they left with eleven scratch cards, Mabel handed Wendy three twenties—"Here! For helping!"—and stuck the rest of the change in her pocket.

"Dude. That was awesome. You were so cool in there, like—" Wendy put on her coolest, most unruffled expression. "'Our payout, please.'"

"That's just the kind of rock star I am." Mabel put the scratch cards in her bike's basket. "Thanks for the help, Wendy!"

"Sure, any time." Especially if she got a surprise $60 out of it. "Heading back to the shack?"

"Yeah! I've gotta finish decorating for the party!" Mabel waved as she took off down the road. "See you then!"

"See you." She guessed that meant she wasn't invited to hang until the party started. Given the touchy situation inside the shack, no surprises there.

She wondered what Goldie had to do with Mabel's interesting trick with the scratch cards. She was sure there was something.

####

Bill leaned into the kitchen. "Hey! How's that cake coming along?"

Mabel stopped arranging dozens of candles in the frosting to point at the door. "Out, Bill! Nobody's getting cake until the party!"

Dipper said, "You don't even deserve a slice."

"Agree to disagree!" Bill said. "But if you don't give me one anyway, I'll annoy you about it for weeks."

"He can have a slice at the party," Mabel said. "The cake's big enough." A couple of overcrowded candles spilled off the edge of the cake. Mabel picked them up and carefully stuck them back in.

Bill fought back a laugh. "Are you sure about all those candles? If you light 'em all up at once, you'll burn off everyone's eyebrows," he said. "But unfortunately, you'd also melt the frosting."

"The frosting's already a mess," Mabel said, peering at the barely-visible HAPPY BIRTHDAY STAN & FORD hidden beneath the forest of candles. "But Soos doesn't have any of those number-shaped candles, so..."

"Roman numerals," Bill said.

"Oooh." Mabel looked at the cake thoughtfully, and started pulling out candles. "How do you make 62?"

"LXII. Fifty-ten-one-one," Bill said, then shot a grin at Dipper—who was glaring at Bill for answering before he could. "Isn't that right, smart guy?"

"Yeah," Dipper grumbled.

"You kids take the credit if they ask about the candles," Bill said. "They'll just get grumpy if they know I had any influence on the decorations."

Mabel carefully tilted the bottom leg of the L just enough to keep the tip out of the frosting, and started smoothing out the rest of the candle-pockmarked surface. "Now I've got enough empty frosting to add some decorations!" Mabel said. "I don't have enough time to draw something complicated. Maybe rainbows?"

Dipper shook his head. "I don't think either of them would be into that."

"Draw gold bars," Bill said.

Mabel blew a raspberry. "That's what you'd want on a cake!"

"No, I'd want me on a cake. Stanley likes gold! Stanford should like gold more, you could help him develop a taste for it."

"No."

Dipper suggested, "Maybe you could draw gambling stuff on Stan's side of the cake? Since they couldn't have their birthday party in Vegas like he wanted." Dipper shot a sideways glance at the reason they had to stay in Gravity Falls. (Bill shrugged. It wasn't like he'd asked the Stan twins to stay in town.) "You could do poker chips or playing cards or—"

"Dice!" Mabel said. "Dipper that's perfect, they both like dice! We can put normal dice on Grunkle Stan's side and nerdy dice on Grunkle Ford's—"

"Oh, that's great! I've got my DD&MD dice bag in the attic!"

"I'll look in the board game closet!"

Dipper and Mabel took off.

Bill waited until he was sure they were gone.

He checked out the kitchen window for witnesses, then picked up a dozen abandoned birthday candles, licked off the frosting, and hid the candles in his hoodie's hood. Too bad they hadn't left a matchbook out, but Bill knew a fun little trick with an empty aluminum can and a tube of toothpaste that would work just fine.

When the kids returned and Mabel stuffed the remaining forty-odd candles back in their box, they never noticed any were missing.

####

Mabel had put herself in charge of the guest list. Which explained why, along with Stan and Ford's actual friends, all Mabel's friends had been invited; as well as—among other people—the mayor ("he's like the Mystery Shack's best customer, Grunkle Stan!"), Shmebulock ("Jeff said Shmebulock stole the Journal 4 you started last fall, I was hoping he might gift it back"), and the Hand Witch and her boyfriend. ("Whaaat, Grunkle Ford you met her TOO?! What a coincidence! Dipper, did you know he met—oh, you did. I didn't read those pages!") It would have been a lot more awkward if not for the fact that the birthday boys were awed and humbled that so many people had attended knowing they were coming to a birthday party for Stan and Ford Pines, and none of the guests had even been bribed.

When Soos and Melody helped Mabel carry out the birthday cake, Ford laughed at the sight of it. "Did you make Roman numerals out of candles? How clever! Stanley, do you know what Roman—"

"Yeah, yeah. I watch the Football Bowl, you know," Stan said. "Honestly, I was expecting this thing to be covered in candles."

"I almost went that route," Mabel said. "But I thought I'd save that kind of firepower for the Fourth of July."

"Hah! That's my girl."

"Happy Birthday" was sung, candles were blown out, and the party lined up to get their cake. Mabel cut a slice, loaded it on a paper plate, then glanced toward the attic window. "I'll be right back! I've gotta use the bathroom. Don't open my presents until I'm back!"

She trotted into the house, taking the cake, a napkin, and a plastic spoon with her.

####

Bill met Mabel at the top of the stairs and scooped the cake out of her hands. "You're my hero, star girl." He carried it halfway back to his window seat, stopped mid-step, and asked, "You got a piece with my name on it?"

"I got the slice with the 'Birt' and took off the extra frosting!"

"Oh," Bill said. "Heh. That's—cute." And he looked so much like he was trying to pretend he wasn't genuinely touched by the gesture, that Mabel didn't have the heart to tell him she'd only thought of it halfway up the stairs.

He flopped back in his usual window seat post—where, Mabel couldn't help but notice, he had a perfect view of the party happening outside without him. She grimaced. "I'm sorry you can't come to the party," she said. "But you did torture and try to murder the birthday boys... and most of the party guests... and left half of them with lingering trauma..."

"Speaking of, how's your therapist doing?"

"Oh, good, she's good. I think she's gonna write a paper about Mabeland."

Bill fell silent, staring out the window. Mabel almost went downstairs—when he said, "You know, I was the only person who gave Stanford a gift on his thirtieth birthday."

Mabel turned back around so fast she almost tripped on the top step. It wasn't often she got a double dose of Bill lore and Grunkle lore. "You were?"

"He didn't make new friends in Oregon and he didn't keep up with his old friends from college. His parents mailed him a gift, but it got here a week late. So I taught him a couple spells to see the stars during the day and keep rain from landing on him, and told him where to be in Portland that afternoon if he wanted to pick up a free cake from a fancy bakery."

"Aww. That was... nice of you." But Mabel had to hesitate before saying it, automatically wondering what Bill's motives had been for giving the gifts and what his motive now was for sharing this.

Bill waved a hand dismissively. "Ahh, they were parlor tricks. They're easy, flashy cantrips that impress humans but don't do any harm," he said. "Not much harm, anyway. That night he told me all about how he was the only human to see his zodiac constellation on his birthday. The genius spent all day staring at the sun so he could see the stars!" He laughed.

But it quickly petered out. "And now I'm personally banned from his birthday party. Funny, huh?"

Maybe Bill was trying to get Mabel to pity him; but she kinda thought he was just pitying himself. She patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Losing friends is tough," she said. She paused. "And that's why we should be nice to them."

Bill cracked up so loudly Mabel half expected the party outside to hear him. "Okay, Glory Unicorn! I've learned today's moral about friendship. Get outta here. See if I ever tell you anything again." But he was grinning as he shooed her off.

####

When Mabel came back cakeless, Dipper gave her a dark look, but said nothing.

"Are we opening gifts yet?" Mabel picked up a box and flung an arm around Dipper's shoulder. "You've gotta open this one first! It's from both of us to both of you!" She waved it at Stan and Ford until they took it together.

Ford pointed at the card that said, "To our Grunkles, from your gniece and gnephew!" "That isn't how you spell niece and nephew?" Stan elbowed him.

"Nope!" Mabel said. "But it's how you abbreviate great-niece and great-nephew."

"Ah, I see! Very creative."

"Nice recovery," Stan muttered. Ford elbowed him back. Together they tore off the wrapping paper and opened their box.

Inside were two more boxes, each small enough to hold in one hand—a square one labeled "Stan" and a long narrow one labeled "Ford."

Stan opened his box and pulled out a thick gold chain with a coin dangling from it. Engraved on the coin in sloppy text were the words "#1 Grunkle."

Soos held up a hand. "I did the engraving! First try."

Mabel pointed at the coin. "We made it out of pirate treasure that we have for reasons that we can't talk about! There's a skull on the back!"

They'd hung it from his favorite gold chain. He'd been missing it for a week—and he'd never even suspected the kids. How about that. Choked up, Stan said, "It's—it's great." He took off the chain he was currently wearing, chucked it into the bushes, and put on his gift. "C'mere, you two." He wrapped his arms around Dipper and Mabel.

Soos held his arms out hopefully. Stan rolled his eyes, but waved him over for a hug too.

Ford opened his box. "A pen?"

Dipper said, "It has an ergonomic grip, can take standard ink refills, writes super smoothly—I tested it out myself—makes a very satisfying click, and it's red with gold trim to match your journals."

Mabel said, "I helped pick out the design!"

"... And that's why it's also sparkly."

"I didn't do the engraving on that one," Soos said. "We had a lotta spare pirate coins but only one pen, so. They got it done at the mall."

Ford rotated the pen in his hand until he spotted the (more professional-looking) engraving on the barrel, filled in with gold. "Mine says #1 Grunkle too?"

Dipper said, "C'mon, we're not gonna choose between you two."

Stan said, "Oh, I see how it is! Trying to butter us both up, are you?" He reached under Dipper's hat to ruffle his hair. Smiling, Ford carefully slid his gift into his coat's breast pocket next to his usual pen.

####

When Bill saw that Mabel was back outside, he got up, left the rest of his cake on the window seat, scooted aside a storage box sitting forgotten in a corner of the attic, and pried a loose board from the wall.

He took his stolen candles out of his hood, wrapped them in the party napkin Mabel had given him, and stashed them in a plastic sandwich bag where he'd already stowed a crushed cider can, its edges torn and sharp.

Then he re-hid the bag, fixed the wall, replaced the storage box, gently brushed some cobwebs over the floor to hide the trail in the dust where he'd scooted the box, and turned away from his hiding spot.

To see a gnome wearing a journal like a backpack.

They stared at each other.

"You didn't see anything," said Bill.

"Shmebulock," said Shmebulock.

Bill eyed Shmebulock, the staircase, the window—and then dropped into a crouch, knees and feet spread apart like a sumo wrestler, teeth bared.

Shmebulock cracked his knuckles.

Five minutes later, Bill added Journal 4 to his hiding spot, with a mental note to find a new hiding spot the gnomes didn't know about later.

Unfortunately, Shmebulock escaped with Bill's cake.

####

Wendy squinted up at the blonde shape in the attic window. "You know—all this last week, I kept thinking I saw someone up there. I just assumed it was my imagination," she said. "Guess Goldie didn't get invited to the birthday party, huh?"

"Nope," Dipper said. "And for good reason."

Wendy laughed. "Yeah, sounds it."

Dipper glanced toward his grunkles. At the moment, Ford was opening a cheap set of watercolor paints and giving Mabel an exasperated look. ("I thought we could try them out together! And hate them together!" "All right, that might be fun.") He lowered his voice and picked at his cake. "So. You found out the big secret, huh?"

"Yup," Wendy said. She lightly punched Dipper's shoulder. "Hey—don't look so glum, man. I'm not mad you didn't tell me. There's some kind of family drama and a missing person case involved. I get it—you don't talk about that kind of stuff outside the family."

"Yeah, hah. Right," Dipper said. "So, what do you think of... Goldie?"

Wendy glanced up at the figure in the window. "We didn't talk a whole bunch before Goldie and Stan started arguing about plagiarism," she said, "but I got that she's some kind of wildcard paranormal investigator who gives off insane grifter energy. And seems really mentally messed up from being trapped in another dimension, but like, the kind of messed up that probably makes you fun at parties?" She was already mentally playing Goldie off of her friend group, trying to figure out how well she'd mesh with them. She seemed like the kind of person who'd be into some harmless trespassing and recreational vandalism. "How old is Goldie? She was working on a Ph.D., so that's what, mid-20s? Mid-20s but actually mid-50s after not aging for thirty years? Honestly, if I just met her on the street I would've thought she was like, 15. She does not look her age." Maybe it was the lack of makeup?

Under his breath, Dipper muttered, "You have no idea." He glanced away from Wendy, stuffed a large forkful of cake in his mouth, and mumbled to himself, "How much should I say? Sharing too much could be dangerous, but if I don't say anything..." Mumble, mumble.

Wendy would never tell Dipper how funny it was that he monologued to himself and hoped nobody would notice. Usually she'd politely ignore him, but if there was something dangerous... She lightly elbowed him. "Dipper. Come on," she said. "I can tell something's eating you. You can trust me."

"Ugh, I know, but..." Dipper glanced again at the rest of the birthday party—just far enough to be out of earshot, currently entranced by some thingamajig Fiddleford had gifted the Stans—and let out a heavy sigh. Voice low, he said, "Okay, Wendy, listen. For your own safety, you need to know that Goldie is way worse than whatever you heard about him last night. And I can't tell you why, because of reasons I also can't tell you—believe me, I wish I could tell you, but—don't trust him, okay?" Dipper gave her an earnest, pleading look. "Just don't. He's dangerous. That's all I can say."

It figured that even after Wendy learned the big secret, she'd just find another, smaller secret hidden underneath. Like a matryoshka doll. (She quietly made note of the "he" and wondered if Goldie had been part of the queer scene in the 80s, or if he'd only figured himself out while he was in ghost land.) "I'm assuming he's dangerous for Weird Spooky Paranormal reasons?"

"Yeah," Dipper said, teeth grit. "Yeah, basically."

He wanted to tell her more, she wanted to know more, and she was ready to play 20 questions on Goldie's backstory. Picking through what she'd learned last night for clues, Wendy asked, "Is it connected to Ford's research? All the weird magic stuff he got into?"

"Um." Dipper shrugged uncertainly. "Y...yeah? But... bigger than that?"

"Is it portal stuff." What was the most dangerous thing she knew of that was connected to the portal. "Is it Bill stuff."

Dipper let out an anguished groan, pulled off his hat, and buried his face in it. "I can't tell you more than I already have!"

"Oh my god it's Bill stuff."

Dipper eloquently said, "MRRGHF."

"Okay got it, so Goldie was some kind of Bill groupie or discovered how to summon him or something. Something like that. I don't need to know the details! But he's totally Bill-adjacent."

"Yeah. Yeah. Yep." Dipper nodded emphatically. "Bill-adjacent is... the best way to describe Goldie."

"But Bill's gone, right? So Goldie's like a cultist without a cult leader. Doesn't that mean he's harmless now?" Wendy asked. "Or do you think he's gonna try to cause the apocalypse in honor of his boss or whatever."

Dipper tugged his hat back on his head and straightened it out. "I'm sure he'd try to end the world again if he could, but... we're all still trying to figure out what he can do."

"So, domestic terrorism risk. Cool," Wendy said. "Y'know, I sorta expected to run into a guy like that in the shack eventually, but I always thought they'd be here because of Stan, not Ford." She rolled her eyes. "I'll warn you if he starts talking about ending the world or anything."

"Thanks, Wendy." Dipper glanced uneasily toward the birthday party. (They were still distracted, currently trying to douse the flamethrower on Fiddleford's birthday gift. It was trying to eliminate the competitor gifts.) "Just... don't tell anybody else, okay? If the town finds out that Goldie is—you know—Bill-adjacent..."

"Relax." She pantomimed zipping her mouth. "I'm not gonna organize an angry mob."

She glanced up at the attic window. Goldie was still up there, staring down at the party. He noticed Wendy staring and made a face at her.

She made the same face back, and saw him silently laughing. Okay, he had bad taste in friends, obviously; but Goldie seemed kinda cool in an unhinged way. From what Wendy had gathered, Bill had conned and then betrayed half the people she knew—and if the Pines had only just managed to get Goldie back on this plane of reality, months after Weirdmageddon, that meant Bill hadn't bothered to rescue him when he could, so Goldie was just another victim. Maybe he just needed to be reintegrated into society.

Dipper said, "Hey, Stan just poured punch on the robot and it made the fire worse. Do you think we should help?"

Wendy looked at the fire—and looked up at the fire. She was moving before she spoke. "Yeah, let's do something about that."

They rejoined the rest of the party, and Wendy put Goldie out of her mind.

####

Ford stared at the ring on his left sixth finger.

Welcome back, the Hand Witch had said.

Thirty years ago, he'd met her at a carnival. She'd told him that he'd chosen the wrong allies and would doom himself for it. She'd given him a ring with a blue cabochon and told him that if it ever turned black, there was no hope for him.

He'd dismissed her as a phony palm reader; and, the night he'd decided Bill was right about Fiddleford not being bold enough to follow through with the portal project, the ring had turned black, and he'd thrown it in the lake.

Now here it was on his finger again.

He didn't think her a phony now. Everything she'd told him had been true. And anyway, it was hard to doubt she had real magic when she spent half the party trying to stop two small disembodied hands from escaping her pockets to visit Mabel.

"Why are you giving this back to me?"

"It's your birthday! And I thought it might be useful."

"For what? Am I in danger?"

"I don't know, I'd have to give you another reading to see." She had pulled a cartomancy deck from her pocket. "Do you want me to?" The card on the bottom of the deck had been a triangle with a snake slithering through its eye socket.

Ford hadn't wanted a reading. He knew now that what he'd called superstition back at that carnival might be a legitimate form of prophecy he simply didn't understand; but he was tired of living his life by signs and portends.

All the same, it was comforting to see that his ring was blue.

Ford's view of the ring was blocked by Stan shoving over the "Get Out Of One Misdemeanor Free" coupon Mayor Cutebiker had given as his birthday gift. "Hey, do you think I'd get in trouble if I made a buncha copies of this?"

Ford took the coupon and inspected it thoughtfully. "If you do get in trouble... a coupon counterfeiting charge couldn't possibly be worse than a misdemeanor, could it?"

"That's what I like to hear!"

It had been a surprisingly long day—and, by far, the best birthday either of them had had in well over forty years. (Was it really that long?) Now they were retired to the parlor Soos and Abuelita had converted into a double guest room, sitting on their beds facing each other as they got ready for sleep.

There was a knock at the door. Ford stood. "Coming—" He opened the door to see Bill's grinning face, a foot from his own. "Oh. You." Ford resisted the urge to step back, in case Bill interpreted as an invitation to come in.

"Hiya, birthday boy!" Bill's gaze immediately drifted down to Ford's coat pocket. "Hey—new pen? I like the sparkle, adds a little pizazz."

"What do you want, Cipher."

"Just to hand this over." Bill pressed a couple of envelopes into Ford's chest, and kept them pinned there with a fingertip until Ford reluctantly took them. "I knew you'd hate getting something from me at your party, so just for you I waited until all the festivities were over. You're welcome."

Ford studied the envelopes. They were two pieces of yellow construction paper that had been folded into envelope shape, and written on each one, in lurching crayon text that drifted up and down, was "Stanford" and "Stanley". "You made cards?"

"You're flattered."

"I most certainly am not."

"'The lady doth protest too much, methinks.'" Bill shrugged. "Hey, they're your birthday gifts. Toss them in the fire if that makes you happiest. You just might wanna open them first—you know, to make sure I didn't write a fire-activated explosion spell on the inside."

Stan grabbed his envelope out of Ford's hand and eyed it in deep suspicion. "And why did you make these?"

"Because it's your birthday. Come on! Why am I explaining this, it's your species's ritual."

"I mean why are you doing it? We all hate each other. We're planning your execution, here," Stan said. "So what's your angle?"

"What do you need my measurements for, you pervert."

"ALL right—" Stan stepped toward Bill, cracking his knuckles, and was only stopped by Ford's hand across his chest.

Bill leaned back against the hallway's opposite wall. "Whoa! Consider this a peace offering! You know—'no hard feelings for all the murder, attempted or planned'! I can be a polite house guest, even if I'm not a voluntary one." Bill smiled wryly, "I'm trapped on an alien planet where I know less than a dozen people and all of them hate me. It gets boring." He looked directly in Ford's eyes. "And we've got history. Is it so hard to believe I might want to be friends again?"

This time, Stan had to put a hand across Ford's chest.

Ford said, "You're up to something."

"Is that a statement or a question?"

"Statement."

"Then you don't want an answer. Enjoy your gifts! Or don't, I'm not your boss." Bill waved, and slunk around the corner back toward the living room.

Ford shut the door. He sat on his bed, examined the envelope, and glanced at Stan, who was sitting on his bed doing the same thing.

They grimaced at each other.

"Okay," Stan said. "Is this more dangerous if we do open it or don't open it?" He hefted his envelope in his hand. "This thing's pretty heavy for just a card."

"Is it?" Ford's wasn't very heavy. He turned on a lamp on a bedside table and held the envelope up in front of it, trying to see through the construction paper. "I think he's counting on us to open these. I doubt he set a trap that will activate if we leave it closed—it's not his style."

"So, what do we think. Some kinda hypnotic mind-control magic that's activated by reading it? Or is he just trying to bribe us into liking him better?"

"He probably doesn't have hypnotic mind-control magic. If he did, why would he have spent so long trying to manipulate humans into doing his bidding?"

"I dunno, maybe he's stupid."

Testily, Ford said, "He's not stupid."

"No—listen, I've been thinking about this for months," Stan said. "You spent thirty years hopping between a zillion different dimension, right? If there's already safe portals out there, why'd he spend so long tricking someone into building a crummy one that'd destroy the universe, instead of using one of those? He's gotta be stupid!"

"I've... wondered the same thing about the portal," Ford admitted grudgingly. "But, no—I've seen him use so many roundabout tricks to manipulate minds that if he were capable of overt mind control, I'm sure he'd have used it by now."

"Fine, so mind control's off the table. But we're probably safer if we leave these alone. If we open them, they might be an annoying attempt to kiss up to us, or they might be dangerous." Stan waved his envelope like a fan. "And, we're gonna open them anyway, because not knowing will kill us, right?"

In his youth, Ford had arrogantly looked down on Pandora. "Of course we're going to open them."

They opened their envelopes.

They both contained a sheet of type paper folded in half with nothing on the front and messages written inside. Ford's read, "Stanford– I'd tell you to go to hell, but you'd barely be there long enough for it to be worth the trip. Happy birthday! –Δέος" Charming. Particularly out of the heel who'd just claimed he wanted to be friends.

"Hey, what is this?" Stan held his letter out for Ford to see: "Stanley– You were only the accomplice. I won't hold a grudge. Happy birthday! –Δέος" Stan pointed at the last word, "Is this some kind of curse?"

"A signature. Bill's real name isn't 'Bill Cipher'—it's just one of many nicknames he uses when communicating with humans. And, when writing to people who know him well, he prefers to sign with that nickname. It's pronounced déos." It meant awe—whether manifested in the form of fear or reverence. And it probably was no coincidence that Bill had picked a word that, to the untrained ear, sounded so much like the Latin deus—god.

Once, long ago, waking up to find his own hand had written a letter signed by "Awe" in a foreign alphabet had filled Ford with awe. Now... well, now it looked a little try-hard, didn't it. "Between you and me, I think Bill likes that signature best because it starts with a triangle." In Bill's handwriting, the delta looked unusually equilateral.

"Really fond of his own face, isn't he," Stan said, digging in the envelope for the rest of his "gift"—and he pulled out a handful of scratch cards. "What the...?"

How the heck had Bill gotten his hands on those? Ford checked to see if his envelope had the same—and came out with five pieces of notebook paper instead, still tattered on the edge from being torn out of a spiral notebook, covered front and back with writing—multiple languages, some inhuman, with a smattering of complex sigils and symbols. The first line on the first page read "Spell to Resurrect Fowl (chicken, turkey, duck, etc.—funny at dinner parties!)" Ford slapped the pages face down on his nightstand without reading the next line.

"What is it?" Stan asked.

"Magic," Ford said, voice flat with irritation.

"A trap—?"

"No. Magic for me. Spells I don't know. The kind of knowledge I'd—document in my journals."

Stan processed that. He tossed his scratch cards down on his own nightstand. "Lemme get this straight," he said. "Less than two weeks since he tried to kill us, with no access to the outside world and no resources at his disposal but his stupid wits—without even getting his hands on a freaking envelope—he somehow managed to get us both thoughtful, considerate gifts that are deeply relevant to our personal interests and passions! Is that about right?"

"It seems to be, yes."

"That jerk! I oughta ring his neck!"

Ford nodded in agreement. "I didn't know you're into scratch cards." He tamped down the urge to lecture Stan on the statistical improbability of making a profit.

"See, if even you didn't know, now I'm even madder that he does!" Stan groaned in frustration. "I kicked the habit. Still like playing 'em if I get them as a gift."

"Hmm." That was all right, then. Couldn't lose money on scratch cards if somebody else had spent the money.

They glared together at their thoughtful, relevant, deeply unwanted gifts, trying to decide what to do about them. Stan was the first to let out a resigned sigh and snatch his up. "What the heck. They're already paid for, I'm not gonna throw away potential free money just because it came from him." He fished around in his discarded pants pockets for a quarter. "But I'm not gonna enjoy myself!" He flipped through the cards, noting they were each labeled in a corner from 1/11 to 11/11, and muttered, "Why'd he draw triangles on some of the numbers?"

Well, if Stan had caved into his curiosity... Back into the box, Pandora, and perhaps we'll find hope at the bottom.

"Mabel must've helped him get these," Stan said. "It's the only way. And these cards have glitter and unicorns all over them." He scratched off his first card, and said, "Hey, three bunny faces—how 'bout that? I made thirty bucks already."

"At least it's not a total waste," Ford muttered, skimming the pages before him.

It was a treasure trove.

A spell to uncook food. The cipher to decrypt the Voynich manuscript. A potion to change eye color. A river stone submerged not five miles away that, when dry, hovered. A ritual involving five hours of meditation and a lot of mushrooms that opened up psychic communication with Earth's nearest alien neighbors. An illusion to make the floor look like lava. ("Good for games if you're very bored and oppressed by gravity.") The names of five hitherto-unknown demon nobles, the sigils to summon and bind them, the fields of knowledge and political influence in which they were most helpful, and a few personal tips on how to best to twist their arms into doing a favor. A complicated way to grind glasses that let one see, depending on prescription strength, anywhere from several seconds to several minutes into the future. And on and on.

And Bill didn't just toss down a few mystical-sounding words and move on: in a few terse sentences after each spell, he hinted at the principles that made them work (freely mixing magic, physics, and metaphysics), the people who'd created or discovered the trick (whether human, inhuman, unearthly, or transdimensional), where Ford could go digging to independently verify the information if he didn't want to take Bill's word for it—and what other, greater things someone might use these tricks to do, if only they fully understood how they worked, if only they had the right teacher. Bill had filled the margins, scribbled extra info in red pen in between the rows of black to double the amount of text he could cram on each line. Ford could fill an entire journal just by copying, disentangling, and expanding on everything Bill had packed into this dense five-page grimoire.

Bill had given Ford more in this letter than he had in all the years he'd been posing as Ford's friend—excluding those accursed portal blueprints. He'd shared the kinds of things Ford had always dreamed his Muse might show him. He gave it away like a free sample to entice a new customer. Five pages of deep secrets meant nothing to Bill and his infinite knowledge. He could have done this all along. He only did it now to try to bribe Ford into sparing his life: see what you could miss out on?

As Ford read the pages, his hands trembled in rage.

"—two hundred dollars, two hundred fifty dollars," Stan muttered. "Those are the biggest yet." He waved the scratch cards at Ford. "I don't understand it! That's eight winners in a row! I've made almost a thousand bucks just by scratching these off—that's not luck! How's he do it? What kinda weird alien magic gives you scratch card telepathy?"

"I don't know. I had no idea he could identify winning scratch cards," Ford said. "But I'm not surprised."

Stan shook his head in amazement, and scratched the next card.

Ford crushed the notepaper pages into a ball.

And he smoothed them back out. Bill was a monster, but this knowledge was precious.

He looked at the Hand Witch's ring like it might tell him the correct course; but no matter which way his thoughts swayed, the gem remained a steady blue.

"This card's a thousand bucks all by itself," Stan said. "I've never won a thousand in my life. There's no way..." He scratched furiously at the last card, revealing symbols patterned after an array of gems and jewelry. "Five hundred!" Scratch scratch scratch— "Times five?! That's—!" He seized up all his cards and quickly tallied his winnings. "That's a total of nearly five thousand dollars!" He let out a disbelieving laugh. "Who needs Vegas? This monster's been better to me than she ever has!"

"Stanley, that's exactly what he wants you to think," Ford snapped. "He's giving us everything we want so we'll be more reluctant to kill him. This is less than chump change to him! Don't forget that his goal—"

"I know! I'm not stupid, I know what he's doing. Lotto numbers aren't worth the safety of the universe. But sh—shoot, Stanford, he handed me five grand for free and I'm keeping it."

"Fine," Ford said. "Fine. I suppose there's no point in throwing it away on principle."

"Darn straight!"

Ford glowered down at his underhanded "gift"—this little glimpse behind the veil into the mysteries of the universe. His whole chest bubbled and burned with rage; but beneath it—twinkling like a lonely star, twinkling like hope at the bottom of Pandora's box—was something he hadn't felt since Bill betrayed him.

Awe.

It was like waking up to a letter from his Muse.

This was who Bill could be—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—and he chose not to be. Why?! When this was so easy for him—why did he have to be what he was instead?

This charitable act only made the true Bill look even worse by contrast.

Ford re-smoothed the pages, carefully folded them in half, and stored them back in their construction paper envelope. He'd leave them there until he'd independently researched every one of these spells and ensured they did what Bill said they did and that there weren't any hidden side-effects.

And then he'd see about adding this information to his current journal.

No point throwing it away on principle.

####

(Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, I'd deeply appreciate hearing your thoughts! Thanks!)

#(me drawing Ford: *checks image reference a dozen times for tiny details*)#(me drawing Stan: *scrawls him out without consulting a reference once* Yeah that's grunkle shaped. Post it.)#grunkle stan #grunkle ford #bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #my writing #my art #bill goldilocks cipher

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bachissidehoe · 6 months

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look at the mess you made - itoshi s.

chapter 3 of 7 of the blue lock band series. chapter 1. chapter 2. chapter 4. chapter 5. chapter 6. chapter 7.

synopsis: y/n struggles to leave some of the bands' post-concert parties without the help from one of the members, but surprisingly, drummer itoshi sae is the only one around to provide her an excuse. even though she knows sae the least out of the band members, she'll still let him walk her back to her room...

warnings: smut; penetration; riding; degradation; facial; scratching; fem reader; minors DNI

disclaimer: all songs referenced are credited to THE DEEP END

w.c. 3.2k

The life of Blue Lock’s professional journalist involves awkward hours consisting of interviewing the boys, watching and taking notes on their shows, frequently meeting with Reo and Bachira to proofread articles and social media posts, and setting up discussions with potential sponsors. And so far, it’s been fantastic. Their past 3 shows have completely sold out and she’s only been working with them for a month. But it can also be exhausting, so when she gets the opportunity to wind down, she takes it.

Tonight, however, is not one of those nights.

“Another, miss?”

“Let me buy it for you, gorgeous!”

“Come dance with me.”

The sounds of semi-important people connected to the band somehow. Rich people who sponsor them, engineers who worked the show, their families. It’s a frequent occurrence, these parties that take place after a show. It’s important that these events are good so they continue to get sponsorships, or at least that’s what Reo says. But anymore, it just seems like a festival of horny old rich dudes who ogle y/n like she’s an object for their use. She can’t even count the amount of excuses she’s had to come up with to avoid making a random guy mad that she won’t fuck him.

“Sorry, I have to-” She stops, realizing none of her usual excuses are here. Usually, nobody will question it if she has to “ask Isagi a question” or “go over something with Mikage”. But both of them, in fact most of the band, seems to have left already. She can feel her blood start to boil, knowing that more than likely, Isagi’s found another random girl to fuck. It shouldn’t still bother her, considering she still lets him rail her whenever he sees fit, but she’s a little tipsy so she can’t help it.

“What do you have to do sweetheart? Going somewhere?” An arm is suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, trapping her from going any further.

“Yeah, what’s wrong? Have another guy you’re supposed to meet up with?” Another man slurs. They’re clearly drunk, and it doesn’t help that maybe y/n herself had one too many drinks, making it harder for her to think on her feet.

She scans the bar, her eyes slightly blurred, looking for anyone she recognizes who might be able to help her out of this.

“Goodnight y/n~” A familiar voice calls to her, halfway out the door.

No, don’t leave.

“Chigiri.” She says. Not loud enough. “Chigiri.” She tries again, but he’s also pretty drunk and stumbling. He might not be able to help her either. “Hyoma!” She says.

“What’s it? Prrrretty girl~” He turns around, stumbling back through the door. “Who are youuu?” He turns his attention to the man holding onto her. “I don’t think she likes you, right y/n? She likes meeeee~” He giggles, hiccuping as he catches his balance on one of the bar tables next to them.

“Well she’s with me tonight Chigiri Hyoma, hope you don’t mind.” The man smirks. For the life of y/n, she can’t remember his name. Some sponsor, some business owner, something like that. She’d get a serious talking to from Reo if she pisses him off.

“Well I do~ mind.” He giggles again. “Y/n, when am I gonna get to fuck you? Like Isagi and such?”

Y/n nearly falls over, and not because she’s slightly drunk. Why would he say that in front of these guys? Clearly he’s lost it. This doesn’t help her at all, it actually might make it worse.

“Um, uh if you see the chance take it.” She rushes through her words, her eyes darting around again, looking for a way out.

“Y/n! With Chigiri Hyoma!”

“Oh no.” She mumbles, as another familiar voice enters the conversation- if this interaction can even be called a conversation.

“Aiku!” Chigiri throws his arm around him like they’re best friends. It’s not like they’re not friends, but definitely not the type to hang over each other the way they are now. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like Oliver is sober enough to help her either.

Oliver Aiku, the lead singer of Blue Lock’s opener, Ubers- also consisting of lead guitarist Aryu Jyubei, bassist Niko Ikki, and drummer Barou Shouei. As if the misfortune is following l/n y/n tonight, none of the other members of Ubers are around either. Just Oliver, the known fuckboy, who’s even more drunk than Chigiri.

“Y/n, are we all taking you upstairs or what?” Oliver jokes, nudging Chigiri and the other man who still hasn’t stopped touching her.

“That would be lovely.” The man grips y/n’s shoulder tighter, which honestly seems to sober her up quite a bit. That doesn’t sound lovely, it sounds awful.

“Alright, that’s enough. Y/n, help me take these guys back to their rooms.” A new voice, a deep, monotone, unbothered voice. A voice that doesn’t sound drunk at all.

“Sae!” She practically leaps for joy, meeting his striking teal eyes.

“Let’s go. You’re pretty sober now, I could use your help with these two.” He places his hand on her shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me.” He nearly growls, dusting the man’s hand off her like it’s a bug he’s grossed out by.

Y/n breathes a sigh of relief, finally stepping out of the unfamiliar man’s grasp.

“Have a good night sir, I have to help out with these two, thank you for coming!” She exclaims frantically, a nervous smile plastered across her face as she loops Chigiri’s hand over her shoulders.

“This mean we’re fuckin’?” Chigiri slurs through his words, his eyes droopy as he uses y/n’s shoulder for support.

“Why are you so fuckin’ heavy?” Sae groans, holding Oliver upright as they finally make their way out of the bar and begin the short walk across the street to the hotel. “Where’s Hyo’s room key?” Sae barks.

“Are we fuckin’ Sae too?” Chigiri giggles.

“You’re not fucking anything.” Sae sneers.

“Hah! Fuckin’ virgin!” Oliver cackles, nearly slipping out of Sae’s grasp, but Sae grips harder, practically digging his nails into him to prevent him from falling onto the hard pavement.

“Am not!” Chigiri argues. “Y/n told me when I see the chance, I should take it. Look see, she’s touchin’ me~ she wants me so bad hm~”

“Ah, found it.” Y/n pulls her hand out of Chigiri’s pocket, pulling out his hotel room card.

“Found Oliver’s too.” Sae holds it up, looking for the room number.

Luckily, they’re on the same floor, making it easy enough to locate their rooms and put the drunk idiots to bed. It’s always someone who overdoes it, and after the long stretch of shows the boys have had, they probably deserve it too.

Y/n sighs, leaning against the outside of Chigiri’s hotel room door and sliding down. She could fall asleep here, really. But she’ll take having to walk a drunk Chigiri home over having to fuck an ugly old guy any day of the week.

“You feeling okay, y/n?” She suddenly notices Sae standing in front of her, staring down at her pathetic looking figure. He sounds less than concerned, almost like he’s attempting to sound like he gives a fuck. It’s not necessarily working.

Sae is the one y/n could say she knows the least out of the Blue Lock band members. He’s rude, stand-offish, and never seems like he wants to be there. Though he enjoys being part of the band, his attitude tends to spark conflict with potential sponsors and collaborators, leading to quite a few conversations between him and Reo about acting nice for a change.

The drummer was a music prodigy as a child, having articles written about him, news stories done on him, and a number of fans even as an elementary school kid. He would frequently play shows as a guitarist with his younger brother Rin on bass, and it wasn’t until he went to study music at only 12 years old that he decided he’d become a drummer instead.

“I’m fine, just resting for a sec.” She answers, forcing herself to her feet.

Surprisingly, Sae grabs her arm, helping her stand.

“I’m not drunk anymore.” She chuckles, referring to his hand tightly gripping her forearm.

“I know.” He says. “Where’s your room?”

“Floor 10.” She answers. “I’ll be fine.”

“Sure, but I’ll walk you back there.”

Y/n stays silent, unsure of how to respond to a gesture like that. It seems reasonable enough, a guy wanting to walk a girl back to her room, especially after saving her from a potential harassment situation just an hour or so ago. But for Sae, it’s definitely a bit abnormal. He’s not usually one to take interest in protecting her, or anyone else for that matter.

“What?” He asks, clearly noticing y/n’s change in demeanor.

“Oh, nothing, I just didn’t expect you to wanna do that.” She says calmly as they begin their walk down the long hallway.

“Why not?”

“What is this, 20 questions? I dunno, you just don’t seem like the type.”

“And you don’t seem like the type to be fucking Isagi every chance you get but here we are.” He fires back, clearly not the sudden nice guy y/n thought he turned into.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She tugs her arm away, indicating that not only can she walk by herself, she’s also slightly annoyed.

“You’re awfully attached to him, considering he couldn’t care less about you. That’s all.”

“Isa- Yoichi cares about me.” She argues.

“Sure, as a person, as a friend maybe. But not how you want him to.”

“Who are you to tell me how he feels? Or even how I feel?” She stutters, feeling the tears welling already. Maybe she’s not as sober as she thought.

Bachira said the same thing to her weeks ago now. And she still went back. She still hung onto the idea that maybe he was just using those girls to purposely make her jealous. She still convinced herself that Isagi Yoichi was- is- in love with her. And she still let him take from her whatever he wanted.

“I’m just observing.” He shrugs.

“Don’t you have to go find some girl to fuck? Like Isagi and Nagi and them almost every night?” She spits. It’s not a good comeback, but she can’t think of anything that’ll get under his skin. She’s too tired for an argument with Itoshi Sae.

Sae just chuckles.

He’s a complicated one, for sure. He definitely doesn’t bring girls around as much as the other band members, except for his brother Rin, who does so even less. But still, he does occasionally, and never discusses it. In fact, Sae doesn’t discuss much at all. He’s the one who wrote one of their first songs “Look at the Mess You Made”, and insists it stays on their setlist, but y/n has no idea what makes him so attached to that song out of all of them. She’d love to know more, if she wasn’t so pissed at him she’d want to ask him some questions, get inside the mind of Itoshi Sae.

“How drunk are you?” Sae asks, pressing the button on the elevator.

“I’m not drunk anymore.” She places a hand on her hip as if he was accusing her, stepping inside the elevator as the doors swing open.

“Good.” He says, following her and watching the doors begin to close, his teal eyes peering to the side. Suddenly, y/n feels uneasy under his gaze- or maybe something different- somewhat aroused?

She doesn’t have time to analyze it further. The split second the doors shut, Sae has her pinned against the wall, his lips feverishly slamming into hers. She can’t react, she can’t tell her body how to handle this situation. His lips are already on hers. And she finds herself letting her eyes flutter shut, meeting each sporadic movement of his soft, pink lips with her own, letting her body go limp under his rough touch. His tongue slips and slides against hers, and she lets him too, making room for him to explore the insides of her mouth.

She can only manage quick breaths, most of which turn to soft moans. He’s so harsh, so intense with his kiss, it’s nearly desperate. One of his hands remains pressed to the wall to hold her in, the other softly yet threateningly cups her cheek, the cold pads of his fingers pressing against her soft skin as if he’s holding back from breaking her neck.

Every movement Sae makes is soft and smooth, riddled with an aura of sexual experience y/n would never guess he had. It’s so calculated, the way his tongue moves against hers isn’t forceful, but isn’t submissive either. She wants more of him, she wants to know how he moves, where his hands will go next, what positions he’ll put her in. She finds her hands traveling to his hips, a single finger dipping under his shirt to feel the softness of his muscular skin-

Ding.

And the elevator opens, forcing the two apart, with Sae suddenly standing at the door of the elevator to lead her out.

They remain silent as well, y/n due to being completely stunned, and Sae due to pure smugness for pulling it off at all. He can read every emotion on her face, and most of them are horny.

“This, um, this is my room.” She says quietly, awkwardly. It’s not that she didn’t like it, she actually wants more. But it came out of nowhere, she doesn’t even know Sae’s intentions.

Sae stops, saying nothing as she unlocks the door.

But she keeps going back to Isagi, doesn’t she? Even after Bachira arguably fucked her better, even after knowing he doesn’t intend to fall for her, date her, or even view her as anything other than a little fuck toy whenever he wants it. Maybe knowing the intentions makes it worse. Maybe this situation is exactly-

“Alright, night.” Sae turns around as y/n walks through the door of her dark hotel room.

No, no. She shouldn’t. She doesn’t need any more of this. She doesn’t need to make this mess worse than it already is.

“Wait-” She stops him, her body’s needs overpowering her logical side.

“What’s that?” Sae turns around, a smug smirk plastered across his gorgeous face, his lips still plumped from kissing her just moments ago.

She doesn’t say more, she doesn’t need to, instead grabbing him by the hand and pulling him through the door.

Y/n feels like she blacks out for a while, kissing him like she’s been desperate for him for years, touching his body and giving him access to everything he wants of hers. By the time she comes back to her senses, his cock is stuffed deep in her soaked pussy, squelching noises echoing around the room as she bounces on him. It’s hard and fast, her hands pressed to his chest, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her up and down on his thick cock.

Her legs already burn, but it doesn’t matter. She’s determined to ride him all night if she has to. She never thought it would be Sae out of all of them, she never thought she’d stare down at him, his eyes snapped shut and his auburn hair messily sticking to his forehead, short moans leaving his lips as she fucks herself on his cock.

He’s so quiet, restricting himself to heavy breaths instead of speaking aloud. He doesn’t need to speak or tell her to go harder or compliment her- the way his body moves is enough to motivate her. How his cock twitches inside her as her walls hug him, how his chest rises and falls every time her hips crash down on him, how his hands squeeze tightly at her hips as if he wants to poke through to the other side.

“S’good Sae.” Y/n restricts her vocals as well, but her shaking body hurdles closer to her orgasm with every movement. She leans forward on him, her lips nearly touching his as she bounces her ass on him, grinding into his cock so it hits the right spot to bring her closer. Her breath tickles his lips, his tongue, his nose- he loses himself for a moment, kissing her weakly, licking the drool off her lips. “So close~” She whines, pressing her clit into him, creating the last bit of friction she needs to drive her over the edge.

“F-fuck~” Sae curses, his muscles tightening as he feels her pussy squeeze him in through her orgasm, his cock feeling every sensation of her wetness surrounding him like he’s drowning in it. Maybe he wishes he was.

Y/n shakes, her body already burnt out from fucking him so hard, and she collapses on top of him, her muscles completely giving out.

“Not done.” Sae groans, wrapping his arms around her limp body and swiftly flipping her on her back, her tits bouncing beautifully as she looks up at him, dazed and sensitive.

He plunges back into her, feeling her warmth surround him once again, fitting snugly inside. In just a short second, Sae goes from being ridden like a dildo to fucking y/n like she’s the toy, rutting into her with a strength and speed that can only be described as godly, a beautiful destruction.

Suddenly, Sae’s the only one who’s silent, with y/n completely unable to control the whimpers and curses that escape her into his awaiting ears, just motivating him to fuck her harder. She pushes at his chest, her weak hands pressing his skin and running through his hair, desperately clawing at him like she can’t decide if she wants him to stop or go harder.

She sings his name like she’s praying to him, her rhythm matching with his deep thrusts, his experienced hands gripping at her tits. The overstimulation becomes too much, embarrassingly much, as she unexpectedly cums again, fluids rushing to coat the base of his cock and inner thighs as he drives it into her like a sword.

“S’ry, Sae~ ah~” She can’t prevent the tears from streaming down her face as he leaves no part of her pussy unfucked.

“You look pathetic.” Sae grunts, placing a hand on her wet cheek almost like he’s threatening to slap her.

“Fuck~” She throws her head back.

“Ah, look at me.” Sae demands, forcing her gaze back to his striking teal eyes. Those eyes, they look so emotionless, which somehow makes it hotter. He doesn’t care if she lives or dies, and that’s all she could expect out of Itoshi Sae. “Gonna cum all over that pretty body.” He grunts.

It’s the first compliment he’s given her, catching her off guard enough to prevent her brain from processing his words. With a few more rough thrusts, he pulls out, stroking and squeezing at his cock as he holds it over her, finally spraying his thick load all over her. White ropes spurt from his twitching tip, coating her face, her hair, her tits. She’s covered in him.

Her breathing is heavy as she lays helpless under him, drenched in his sticky cum, her pussy throbbing yet still pulsing for more.

Sae snickers. “Hm, look at the mess you made.” He says, pressing his pink tip against her entrance once again.

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pumpkinstrawbrew · 8 months

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🆃🅷🅴 🆆🅸⨢.🅲🅷🅸🅽🅶 🅷△🆄🆁.

>>> the grim adventures of jon n' jack. feat batman n' spiderman. <<<

...

it was only a matter of time, before i would have made another crossover with those two. i can't deny, that they are very 1:1 for me, when it comes to comics supervillains. so why not to mix one awesome n' beloved thing with another? esp since funny enough, they do have quite a few similar plot-points. well, the halloween themed costume aside. i mean it goes as far as jack once having the bat-themed boyfriend pal, which reminds me of someone else, i know.

anyho'...

i've tried to make my notes more or less readable here, but they still might be a bit scattered. i attempted to keep them as short as possible, but i just cannot talk 'small'.

1. the first art is low-key based on underdeveloped AU, that i have about the early comic scarecrow n' modern jack meeting n' hitting it off serial killiar style. considering, that both of them possess killing methods, which have a noticable tradmark to it, i imagine that they will leave one hell of a mess behind, while traveling across the country. in that timeline, batman is dead. n' jack's shitty foster dad was killed off earlier on. neither of them knows what to do with themselves, since the people who they had *twisted* emotional conection with are gone. without any direction, they meet in the middle, n' decide that they can as well team-up n' try to make being a villain fun again. jon might experiment on their victims *or torture them if its his ex bullies* n' then give them to jack, who would scoop their brains out and put candle inside their skull. n' uh yeah, he literally did it in the comic. i was honestly surpised that marvel come up with smth that creepy. it really sounds more alined with dc, if anything. but either way, here they are. two *grieving* psychos going downtown. they will make one another so much worse, i imagine. n' they will totally kill that npc dude btw.

2. dark magic n' the drip. or jon n' jack at their corniest. like, jonathan looks like he watched too much the nightmare before christmas n' jack dress up like count dracula for no reason. it's so random-ish n' cheesy. but with this being said, i love both of those designs, n' think, that they really suit the vibe of comic issues in which they were featured. jack always came off as a he-witch to me, but it was nice to see it being played on in a different way. n' then, crane really rocks his own outfit as well. i totally need to draw him in it more often, haha. they dress up for a halloween party for real this time. n' well, i added batman n' spiderman into the mix here, bc i kinda wish that they got to fight / interact with those versions of jon n' jack. it would have been fun for a few reasons. also this can be technically counted as shipping art, but can be viewed as your typical gloating bad guy n' helpless hero thing too. n' to clear any possible questions, i only create stuff with adult peter parker. like cartoon era/late early comics, 20 smth one. i love my spiderman being of age, where he can legally mingle with his villains, not be detained at school lol.

3. the classic four from the timeline, when the comic plots were a bit more ligthearted. aka during the times, when the deadly mercenary n' crazy scientist were robbing banks, instead of harming *torturing* people. i love dark stuff, but there is charm to how 'simple' the scarecrow's and jack's goals once were. n' i love how the scarecrow used to do the lil, dorky dances. it really suits him. n' since at least 2 or maybe, most of jack o' lanterns are southernish in their roots like jon, i had an idea of them having a country dance *in the middle of graveyard* kinda just makes sense to me, haha. batman and spiderman merely happen to find them like that. n' well, it's kinda awkward. esp bc they technically don't do anything bad. i also imagine spiderman being like 'oh, so you have one of those too'. which is mostly a ref to how both the scarecrow n' jack were called 'the reject from land of oz' by other characters. they can rejoice here.

4. the develish & undead duo!! my friend once told me to try n' watch older superhero cartoons, and at first i was like 'welp, they prob be hella boring'. but then i caved in, n' watched a couple of superfriends episodes. as result, i fell in love with their scarecrow's desingh! it was unexpected tbh. usually, i prefer jon's older, classic scarecrow look. so no straw hair, less features exposed, just a hat n' a sack on his head, but their version of him actually did it for me. i find their crane both creepy n' cute. n' i also read on wiki, that he might be undead. so that bit interested me as well. non-human jonathan crane, what a concept! him returning from the grave just to be a menace to batman. n' to accompany him, there is an undead jack o' lantern from the ghost rider comic. his corpse literally got possessed by satan. anyways, both of them raised army of zombies. both of them undead n' prob won't ever get out of their spooky suits, since i don't think that they can. n' funny enough, jack's hometown was called sleepy hollows, if i remember correctly. so they can haunt people there, make it into a truly cursed land.

5. the last one was kinda spontaneous on my part. the other day, i was looking at what kind of action figures the scarecrow n' jack have. saw one, where jon was looking kinda strange, all black n' yellow. which is how i find out that he *apparently* got yellow lantern powers in newer comics, even if it was like for 10 seconds or smth. i didn't read the issue itself, but i found the idea kinda fun, n' his design was decent enough for me to get interested n' wonder what i can do with it. then, a bit later, i saw that jack had a venom-funko figure. i don't think, that he was ever canonically venomized in any of the actual comic issues, but once again, the mere idea of it happening was enough for me to consider doing smth with it. i mean, a venom-like tongue, but its made out of fire? dang. that's kinda cool. so yeah. the yellow lantern scarecrow n' symbiote jack o' lantern being the double trouble. if they weren't enough of a mean goblin-man before, now they surely will be.

#batman #ghost rider comics #spiderman comics #scarecrow #jack o' lantern #jonathan crane #mad jack #dc & marvel #brew draws

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allmoshnobrain · 2 months

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 33 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 2597 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, romance

✦ a/n: Hi, everyone! I posted this chapter a little later than usual because I was too busy today, but it's here! Sorry for the delay. Also, some of you may have already seen this, but: I missed writing about Dave and Nore happy together a lot these last few days, so I posted a small extra chapter set somewhere between chapters 16 and 17 for all my Dave and Nore enjoyers 🖤 You can read it here. Hope you liked reading, feedback is welcome!

✧ you don't have to leave, you could just stay here, with me / forget all the party police, we could find comfort in debauchery ✧

“I should've been there with you,” James's voice, annoyed and concerned, crackled through the phone pressed to my ear. “You shouldn't have dealt with this on your own. I should've been right there beside you.”

“James, it's alright,” I mumbled, sparking a cigarette, propping myself against the payphone stand. It was late afternoon, and I’d dialed James to tell him all about my disastrous mission in Los Angeles. If I wasn't in tears at the moment, it was only because I'd already exhausted my supply in the hours before.

“Of course, it's not okay!” he burst out, matching my frustration. “Did you check with the neighbors? Wasn't there some dude you knew living downstairs?”

“Yeah, Ellefson. He bailed too. Apparently, they moved out together last week. Left no trace for anyone to follow,” I finished the sentence with a tremor in my voice, eyes burning with fresh tears, but I wasn't going to break down now. Not while James was on the line, his concern clear in every word he spoke.

“Fuck. What a mess,” he muttered. “Hey, it's gonna be alright. I think I've got his mom's address; I can try reaching out to her. We'll find him, Nore.”

“Thanks, James,” I said, feeling a bit better knowing that even if the day had turned to crap, he still had my back.

“I'm sorry about all this Pat shit. Had no clue she'd pull a stunt like that.”

“It's fine…”

“No, Nore, it's not. You know, you said the right thing to her. I never want to see that girl again. But I can hop over to Los Angeles if it means making her apologize to you,” he declared, his voice carrying a slightly menacing edge that hinted he might have wanted to go beyond a simple apology.

“James, you really don't have to do that. It'd be just playing into her drama,” I let out a heavy sigh. “All I want is to find Dave and sort this mess out once and for all.”

“We'll track him down, Nore. I promise. Everything's gonna be fine,” James tried to assure me, and I managed a small smile. There was something kinda sweet about how he was going all out to cheer me up, genuinely putting in the effort to help me out, just because it'd make me happy.

James was just impossible not to like.

“I know, Jamie,” I replied, letting the warmth of my smile show in my voice. “Thank you.”

The rest of February breezed by quickly; I suddenly realized that the one-year anniversary of my move to San Francisco had quietly passed. It seemed pretty wild how everything that had unfolded in the last few months had managed to cram into a year, shaping me in more ways than I could express. It was like I'd been a part of the boys’ life forever, like I couldn’t quite picture who I was without them in the frame.

March rolled in, bringing the end of winter closer and closer. As the days lit up and warmed, James and I kept our long-distance communication going. The phone calls from San Francisco to Long Beach, initially a bit spaced out, soon became almost a daily ritual, and I found myself eagerly anticipating those moments in an entirely new way. Sweet words of affection began to find their way into our conversations more frequently. I had to admit, I missed James more than I'd care to confess — not just the tour moments but also his touch, the sound of his voice and laughter, the blue in his eyes, and even the warmth of his kisses and the feel of his body against mine.

Being back at my parents' house had its perks: with no job on my plate and studies yet to kick in, I found myself drowning in free time. I dedicated most of it to diving into my studies and building up a solid portfolio in visual arts, gearing up for the application grind at the San Francisco Art Institute. The prospect of being in the same city as Cliff and the guys again had me stoked, but in a genuinely good way — I could barely contain my excitement for things to click into place.

Another thing gobbling up my time was my newfound camaraderie with Charlotte, one of my old high school friends. She’d been pouring her heart into her debut starring role in a theatre play, and I'd been chipping in as an unofficial production assistant, giving me a reason to hang out with her and break free from my parents’ house for a bit. On a bright Wednesday morning, the moment I stepped into the auditorium where the theater troupe was fine-tuning their craft, Charlotte threw me a curveball with an unexpected ask.

“Nore!” she squealed with excitement upon spotting me, rushing over and grabbing my hands in hers. Her green eyes looked almost teary, and her lips formed a small pout. “Thank goodness you're here. Everything's going haywire today, and I'm not sure if we can sort it out!”

“What’s going on, Charlie?” I inquired, intrigued, as I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto one of the chairs in the vacant audience area. “Did the dressing room light decide to bail on us again? You know I'm useless with those things.”

“Of course not!” she retorted, indignant, and I released a low chuckle.

“Just pulling your leg. What's up?”

“I need you to act in the play.”

I blinked, puzzled, furrowing my brow as I crossed my arms.

“You... Hold on, what? Charlie, the play is in two weeks.”

“I know!” she sighed, slumping into one of the chairs, defeated. “Why do you think I'm so desperate? One of the actresses can't perform anymore. And now the director wants to cancel the play because we won't be able to find a replacement on time!”

“And you want me to step in.”

“Yeah!”

“In a play that's premiering in fifteen days?”

“Nore, you've always been fantastic in our school's Drama Club…”

“No way, Charlie! How am I supposed to pull that off?”

“Nore, please, please, please?” she clasped my hand in hers, her eyes pleading. “It's my first lead role, I've been rehearsing for months! I promise to help you with the lines, I'll do anything!”

I sighed, resigned.

“Fine. But you owe me one,” I replied, and she let out an excited squeal before hugging me.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret it, I promise!”

Well, she was right — I didn't regret it. Actually, practicing for the play turned out to be a lot more fun than I thought. Plus, scoring some free tickets to hand out to my friends and family made me care a bit less about the crazy deadline to cram all those lines into my brain. Charlie and I basically lived in that auditorium for the next few days; I'd roll in there in the morning and wouldn't bail until way into the evening.

When Saturday rolled around, I decided to escape to San Francisco. Stuff for the band was picking up speed after those European shows. After snagging a deal to record the second album at a studio in Denmark, the guys figured a bash was in order to toast to the good news, and obviously, I had to be there. I arranged with my parents to spend the weekend over at Cliff's place with the boys. Luckily, they had some San Francisco business on the horizon, and agreed to drop by and give me a ride back to Long Beach when it was time to head back home.

I let out a sigh as I hit the old house where I used to live with Cliff, Dave, James, and Lars. It was like nothing had changed, memories still stuck in every nook and cranny; the first chats with the guys, James getting less shy as we got tighter, my first kiss with Dave, the first time we slept together, drinking together, smoking together, laughing together, loving together. And it stung, a sharp and dry ache deep in my chest, with the gut feeling that things would never, ever be the same again.

I mixed with the crowd, strolling into the living room; the first familiar face I bumped into was James', whose eyes lit up seeing me, a grin breaking out. He hustled over, grabbing my face and planting a surprise kiss on my lips, leaving me gasping, my face heating up in a flash.

“James!” I blurted out, pupils dilated in shock as I took a step back.

“My bad. Was that a no-go?” he mumbled, a persistent grin suggesting he had no regrets about the kiss. “Just damn happy you showed up.”

“I’m happy to be here too,” I whispered, my face still warm from his gentle touch.

“Geez, you two are such a clingy couple,” Cliff chimed in, coming over. I blushed, pulling James's hands off my face and avoiding eye contact.

“We're not a couple, Cliff,” I muttered, voice low, his comment knotting something strange and uncomfortable in my chest. “Excuse me, I need a drink,” I spun around, heading for the kitchen.

“Nore, hold up,” Cliff tagged along, standing by my side as I raided the fridge for a beer. “What was that just now?”

“Nothing,” I grunted, popping the kitchen door open and stepping into the backyard. Cliff sighed but joined me, leaning against the porch railing.

“Nothing? Seriously? You're not gonna start keeping secrets from me now, after 19 years?” he came closer, tilting his head to be right in my line of sight, impossible to ignore. I sighed, rolling my eyes at his persistence. “Hey. You and James weren't, like, a thing or something?”

“It's not like that,” I grumbled. “It's just... There's just too much going on, Cliff...”

I told him everything then: how James and I had decided to give in to our feelings during the tour, how I’d tried to find Dave after coming back, how everything went wrong, and now I had no clue where he was. And maybe involving James in all this was a mistake because, frankly, with each passing day, I found myself liking him more while still stuck on my feelings for Dave.

“Well, that sucks,” he remarked after I spilled my story, prompting a nervous little laugh from me. “So, you do like James, then?”

“Of course I like him,” I replied, with a resigned sigh.

“You like him, and yet you were upset because he kissed you just now?” he pressed on, and I rolled my eyes.

“Cliff, it's not that simple…”

"No, I get it ain't," he said, sparking up a joint, taking a slow drag before locking eyes with me, dead serious. "I get you still love Dave. I get you're on this quest to find him, and I'm betting it's gonna happen, Nore. You and him, you'll cross paths again 'cause I know you're head over heels for the guy. I'm pretty damn sure you two will work things out. But..." He hesitated, and I shot him a puzzled look. Cliff usually had his words lined up tight. It wasn’t like him to be unsure about anything.

"But?" I prodded, curious. He let out a sigh.

"But things are changing at warp speed for us, Nore," He handed over the joint, and I grabbed it, taking a slow drag. "We're growing up, for crying out loud. I mean, we're about to cut an album in Europe, can you believe that? A year ago, who would've thought? Things are moving quick, do you really wanna skip the chance to catch some happiness along the way? You don't know when you'll stumble upon Dave. No idea how long it'll take to straighten things out with him. Are you gonna keep dodging happiness till then?"

"Cliff, what are you getting at?"

"What I'm getting at, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine, what I mean is maybe you should quit fighting what you feel for James. I mean, you liked him before, but let's be real, you rolled back from Europe completely in love with him, didn't you?"

In love. Those words set my face on fire, my heart doing a marathon, and a zillion butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach. My first instinct was to argue with Cliff, but deep down, he wasn't totally off, was he? If I already had a soft spot for James before, now it was more like a full-blown obsession. It felt like a hunger, like I needed him to fill some kind of void inside of me. And somehow, this crazy feeling coexisted with the love I held for Dave, for the empty space he’d left behind. Everything was so damn new that I could barely wrap my head around it, let alone figure out how to handle it.

"I'm not in love with him," I mumbled weakly, and Cliff chuckled, giving me a shoulder hug.

"You're a lousy liar, you know that?" he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Hey," a familiar voice called, and I glanced up, blushing when I locked eyes with James, propped against the door frame with a beer in hand. "Nore, everything cool?"

"I'm gonna find Lea," Cliff announced, sidestepping and shooting me a suggestive look before leaving me solo with James. I watched him saunter away, feeling my face heat up, and then turned my attention to James, his blue eyes zeroed in on mine.

"You alright? Sorry about that kiss earlier. Didn't mean to upset you," he said, his voice low, stepping close enough for me to sense the heat of his body. His attentive eyes studied my face, as if trying to decode my feelings from my expression. I sighed, my heart racing in a totally new rhythm when he gently cupped my face, resting my hands on his chest as he leaned in.

"James," I murmured, my voice shaking, almost like I was saying his name for the first time. He gave me a slight smile, his gaze zeroing in on my slightly parted lips with poorly disguised desire.

"What?"

"I don't want you thinking I'm here with you just 'cause I haven't tracked down Dave yet."

"I'd never think that," he whispered, edging even closer.

"James," I murmured again, almost like a prayer, and the way I said his name seemed to light up something hungry in him. He yanked me closer, his mouth crashing onto mine with a deep, needy moan. I sighed, trembling, my fingers tangling in his hair as I surrendered to his kiss, the dawning realization that I couldn't resist him any longer.

Actually, that I didn't want to.

He backed off, peppering soft kisses on my lips before resting his forehead against mine. His hands clung to my waist, tugging me close enough for our bodies to touch.

"I think we should head to my room," he murmured, flashing a smile. I chuckled softly, throwing my arms around his neck, and pulled him into another kiss.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9

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mrsaltieri-real · 9 months

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could you please do Mickey as a bf NSFW headcanons? Or Roman even.

(Apologies if you've already this request)

Mickey Altieri as a Boyfriend (NSFW, 18+)

Warning/s: (AFAB!FEM!Girlfriend) NSFW, (18+ ONLY) smut, p in v, oral, (m and f receiving) knife play, blood kink, period sex, roleplaying, spanking, Yeah yeah you get it. It’s an NSFW headcanon it’s all pure filth!

The titles kinda misleading, it’s mainly just how Mickey is when he’s fucking tbh. I think about these a lot because I’m absolutely fucking obsessed with this man. Like, it’s actually insane. Also, you all seemed to like the one I did for Ethan so I had to do my best guy. Feel free to ask for some other slasher boys/girls and I’ll happily do them!

Anyway, here we go!

First and foremost, dude is a DOM

You’ll never catch him dead as a sub, he just doesn’t read as one at all

Likes when you worship him, whether that be his body, his cock or literally anything about him

He’s good with casual hookups, but when he’s in a relationship he opens up a lot more sexually

A lot more

If anything, he prefers sex when he’s dating someone he genuinely cares about

It’s better, more satisfying

1000% percent an ass man, with a soft spot for tits. I don’t know why but I have a feeling

Will absolutely (if you’re comfortable with it) film the two of you fucking

Likes to watch the tape for his lil private sessions if ya know what I mean

Will deny you to holy hell

“Please let me cum.”

“Fuck no.”

Yah, he loves when you beg

Beg him to let you cum, beg him to go harder, faster, WHATEVER

Beg. Him.

Will edge you for hours if he can tbh

Loves when you blow him

LOVES. IT.

Will gag you with his cock, he doesn’t give a fuck

Likes when your gagging around him, tears rolling down your face, mascara staining your cheeks while he’s forcing you to look at him

Oh, but he’ll go to town on you too

He’ll cradle your clit, nip at it, tongue fuck you, WHATEVER

He’ll do it till your cumming on his tongue and just keep on going till HE is done

Don’t get me wrong, he can be very sweet

He enjoys lazy morning sex as much as the next guy, especially when he’s dating you

Can actually be very romantic in the bedroom if the opportunity calls for it

Slow, passionate sex is somewhat of an occasional soft spot for him

I’m talking him on top, fucking you deep and slow with your legs around his waist and watching the pleasure on your face

Honestly, makes his heart stutter

But his favourite position is doggy

He likes the view, what can I say

Enjoys to spank you while he’s fucking you from behind and watching his dick sliding in and out of your pussy

Likes cowgirl too, but he’ll still have to be in control he likes watching your tits bounce when he’s fucking up into you

On occasion, he’ll allow you to take some control of fucking because he loooooves to feel you bouncing on his cock

Likes making a mess

He will not pull out and prefers not to wear a condom

He likes to stuff you full of his cum and watch it ooze out of your well fucked hole, watch it quiver, finger you to stuff it even deeper inside of you…

Ahem I’m getting carried away, sorry

It’s enough to get him hard again for another round

So make sure you’re on some form of birth control

Will make you cum twice minimum before he does

What a guy

Despite how kinky he is, his sex drive is medium

He’s a busy guy, but will always make time for you

His love languages are quality time and physical touch

And he’s very touchy

Even out in public

He wants to fuck you everywhere, in a classroom, at a party, at the movies (iykyk)

Loves to overstimulate you until you’re a twitching, writhing, trembling fucking mess

When he’s very comfortable, he’ll incorporate some of his more secret kinks

Knife play, roleplaying etc

He has a blood kink

Big ol’ blood kink

He’s a confident guy, but possessive. If you let him, he’ll carve his name into your flesh and want you to do the same to him

In his eyes, you belong to him and he wants everyone to know that

He absolutely loves period sex. He just DOES

Likes to fuck while watching horror movies for his own… self gratification let’s say

But as I said earlier, he can be very fucking sweet when he wants to be

As kinky as he is, if he’s in a relationship and loves you, he’s very playful, gently biting your neck when you’re fucking or making you laugh by cracking a joke

All around, he’s an ass during sex but in a hot way that’ll make you begging for more

And if he loves you, you’re never getting away from him

Not that you’d want to

#ugh i love him #my favourite lil guy #hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it #i need him so fucking bad #anyway...#scream #mickey altieri #scream 2 #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri x you #mickey altieri smut #mickey altieri headcanons

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green-ray-blog1 · 19 days

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Dagger being a weird white mage

Back when I played FF9 for the first and second time, I was annoyed at how Dagger's a pretty clearly inferior white mage compared to Eiko. Eiko gets full life, esuna, dispel and holy, all awesome spells that Dagger just can't learn. I guess the idea is that Dagger has the more offensive summons but even then it's not like Eiko's summons are bad, and her final one is pretty op.

But replaying the game again, some of that is making sense to me. Dagger's pretty cool, really, and she's kind of a mess.

Like okay, the trope of the white mage who actually kicks grown men's asses appears in other Final Fantasy games. Aerith roughs up some dudes in Don Corneo's house, and I'm pretty sure I remember Yuna knocking out some goons offscreen in FFX. Dagger doesn't seem to hit the same notes, though.

I don't think she ever physically overwhelms another character during the game, which doesn't stop her from jumping from towers or ditching half of the party when they don't want to take her along. She also doesn't have the same kind of enthusiasm about her that the other two try to project. When I used to play FF9, I didn't pay enough attention to her name. She was just Garnet with a fake name, but it's more than that. Aerith and Yuna want/try to be world saviors, but Garnet, for half the game mostly wants to save her mother, and it doesn't go well. I think she feels overwhelmed by Brahne's dedication to go commit worse and worse crimes. So she needs to become something more than the princess bound by her social role. She needs to become something dangerous, like a dagger. Someone who will poison the fuck out of her buddies and run ahead if they don't take her to the frontline. Obviously, Zidane's into that edgy shit, I mean look at Blank (lots of potential slash I previously had no clue about with this one btw).

Dagger's also kind of entitled, for a while ? Which, duh, she's royalty. There's the whole poisoning incident, of course. But during said incident, she doesn't poison Steiner because she knows he'll do what she says, even if he might protest at first. Worse case she can just put her foot down and shut him up. She really does take Steiner for granted. And again, what I find really cool is that it ends up being pretty subtly written (maybe in part because it's often played for laughs but not just that). Steiner doesn't mind being taken for granted. It gives him purpose, even when it's tedious as fuck. It's interesting that they're never really that close and their relationship is mostly a power dynamic.

The first trip to Treno might have lots of layers. Both Dagger and Steiner are having some personal crises. Dagger gets really into the whole plot to rob someone to save Blank (she gets to be dangerous and edgy and rub elbows with bandits, and she doesn't even need Zidane anymore hah), which is a sidetrack from saving her mother, but it does feel right too (and at least that one is successful). Steiner keeps trying to convince himself that Queen Brahne must be right and he shouldn't think too hard about her motives, but gets stung by Baku calling him out for having no thoughts of his own. In French, he asks himself "Am I a puppet?", which feels more direct than the english version. And yeah, dude, maybe you are ? You're also being roped into all sorts of business you wouldn't do because you're at Dagger's beck and call. So when they're back in Alexandria, when he finally opposes Brahne, shortly after, he also decides to stop following her to stay and fight with Freya and Beatrix. In retrospect, maybe that was a well earned vacation for the guy.

But yeah, all in all, maybe I shouldn't be surprised Dagger isn't an S tier white mage, and is more into the big damage summons, including the horrific robot from another planet with a completely excessive animation that does darkness damage.

#ff9 #garnet ff9 #dagger ff9 #who would have guessed that the girl who names herself after a knife would be kind of edgy #hey zidane can you pass me your stabby weapon for a bit i want to name myself after it #Dagger/Zidane #otp

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cornyonmains · 7 months

Text

Something I really like about Only Friends is the characters are so complexly written and layered that I kind of wind up being an apologist or detractor for all of them at different points in time. I don't really have a black and white view of the characters, which is usually the only thing you have in BL.

Top's a fuckboy with substance abuse issues. But also, he seems like he genuinely wants connection, and I feel bad for him sometimes because it's so clear he wants Mew to be affectionate with him, and Mew just isn't.

Mew is controlling. A giant walking defense mechanism that can't connect will with people. But also, he's surrounded by people who don't have his best interests in mind, and as he's opening up, we're seeing that he's not some criminal mastermind. In fact, that's the mask. The real Mew is just some dumb college kid who's into a guy he's scared of being vulnerable with, because he's never caught feelings he couldn't control. It's so obvious someone messed Mew up REAL GOOD.

Boston is.... He's an objectively terribly human being. He's also a miserable human being though, a lot like Ray, and he places so much of his value on sex he doesn't know how to make meaningful bonds. It's clear he's nuts about Nick, that he wants to monopolize his affections and attentions, but he doesn't know how to translate that into something healthy. Like Mew, his relationship with sex is fucked, and at the core of an inability to bond. I actually think he's jealous of Mew because there's a parallel there, but whereas Boston is derided for his relationship with sex and inability to connect, Mew is praised. Boston is a shit human being, but he is to be pitied.

Ray's kind of a dick. He's self-centered, won't take no for an answer from Mew, he has substance abuse issues, and saying Sand wasn't his boyfriend because he's holding onto that hope for Mew was fucked. But he's also got major depressive disorder, his parents sound like real pieces of work, and Khao does such a great job of conveying his fragility you can really sense how close to just breaking apart he is. He fucks up, but you still want him to get to a better place.

Sand, oh dear god, this boy has my heart. He's not perfect. Yeah, he sells hooch, he smokes weed, he parties. But he's got flaws too. He works too much, his head's in the clouds, he's destined to wind up on a sexiest mugshots website, and he falls too hard, too fast. He lets himself get led around by the nose by Ray. Sand's the easiest character to like on this show. He's got a hustle, but he's also got 'dude I wouldn't be deeply uncomfortable to be in a room alone with' energy.

Nick's not completely guiltless with his relationship with Boston. I've got a soft spot for him because he's a sweet, quiet kid, and I have a habit of adopting introverts. But he's not like Mew, he knew his way around both dick and dicks from the start, and wasn't blind to who Boston was. He bugged the car. That was a little too extra. I still wanna buy him cheeseburgers and tell him these boys ain't shit though, because he's so miserably in love with Boston, and Boston might be up front with him, but he's still stringing him along, telling him what he wants to hear, and giving more when Nick expresses interest in seeing other people. Was recording Boston and Top some pure creep mode shit to do? Yes. But do I support him using the recording to put Boston in his place? Yeah, I do.

Cheum is another easy to like characters, but we don't get to see much of her, so aside from simply liking her dancing queen energy, I can't really make an assessment. I like that she's the only one in the group actually helping Mew with the project. Also, I laughed when she clocked Ray as most fuckable. Most queer woman would agree, and Jojo is out here making us feel attacked.

Anyways, in summation, I'm thinking of opening a GoFundMe to get therapy for fictional characters. I still can't believe we've got 7 more episodes of drams to get through.

#only friends #only friends the series #ofts #topmew #sandray #bostonnick #thai bl #bl drama

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rallentando1011 · 2 months

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Somnambulant Soulmates (rise Donnie x gn reader)

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Word Count: 3676

(alright, we’re getting into some good stuff now ;) hope you enjoy!)

Three weeks.

Three weeks had passed since you first encountered that purple clad turtle, give or take.

And they were a blur of fighting and parties and studies and a library and coffee and him.

Donnie, the centrifuge that had been the catalyst of the whirlwind that had become your life. Well, technically his brothers, April, and the rest of the gang were also at fault, but he was the main culprit. The superfluous amount of meetings you’d had with him in your short time knowing him, his intriguing disposition, the whole situation had made it quite easy for him to work his way up to being one of your favorite people.

It had been a few days since you’d seen him. It had also been a few days since you’d left the fortress of your home. Following the hectic event and subsequently less wild ones of last week, you deserved a few days’ break.

But it was time to get back into the fray.

You forced yourself up from where you had been lounging on your bed, prying your eyes away from the ceaseless social media scrolling you had subjected yourself to.

Blinking your sleepiness away, you thought about what you had to do: eat something, first of all, get some water and whatever prescriptions you needed, then message that confounded turtle about his progress on that invention.

Call yourself curious, but you just had to see it in its completion. Also, you were desperately bored. Why not get your social interaction and entertainment in one stop, kill two birds with one stone?

You pulled up the chat you currently had with him but paused before you typed a word.

Sure, texting got the point across, but you were looking for a quick answer, not a typical, joining-the-conversation-hours-later Donnie answer.

Would a call work better in this scenario?

Of course, calls kind of sucked to do, solely because of the whole talking aspect, but it could be quicker. And if he didn’t respond, then you could just send a text.

You clicked his contact and the button to call him, holding your breath momentarily afterward. Hopefully it wasn’t too weird. You meant, you’d never called him before, so maybe you would look like an absolute maniac for calling him now over something so trivial. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea-

“Hello?”

You startled at the sound of a voice over the phone. He’d already answered. No going back now.

“Hey, how’s it going?” you responded as smoothly as possible.

“... Fine? You called?”

“Yeah.”

The conversation fell silent until he spoke up.

“May I know what for?”

“Right! Yeah, sorry, I was just curious about that whole mystic gem-finding situation. Did you find one yet?”

“I have yet to locate and secure any that aren’t currently in use. The project’s also been on the backburner with lair repairs; segue, do you know how many microwaves Leo can break in a week?”

You snickered, though you quickly worked back out of that tangent. “Dude, isn’t your dad- er, wait, your father some kind of alchemist? He probably has something you could use.”

“He likely does. However, we have what one might call a strained relationship.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me about that if you don’t want to-’

“Me and my brothers destroyed his lab and he threw Leo off of a roof.”

“Oh.”

You two went quiet once more. He also broke the silence once more.

“Never mind that, let’s focus on the task at hand: how to obtain a sought-after gem.”

“By destroyed, do you mean made a mess of or..?”

“Absolutely decimated it.”

“Right,” you nodded slowly. “So is it abandoned, and, follow up, would it still have any resources left?”

“Not likely. Scavengers, and Draxum himself, probably made certain that anything valuable was taken care of. But, we could potentially check it out.”

“Hmm, ‘we’?” you asked innocently enough, save for a teasing inflection in your hum.

“Yeah, ‘we’. Unless you’re not interested, which is totally within bounds-”

“I’m free Thursday and Friday, either before noon or at, like, ten,” you cut him off. His surprise was discernible by how quiet he went for a solid ten seconds.

“Right, yeah, Friday works,” he finally conceded. “Would Friday at 23:00 work for you?”

Seriously? Military time? What a punk. “Translate into normal time talk and then you’ll get an answer,” you quipped.

“No need to be rude. Does eleven sound better to your inconsiderate self?”

“Much. And eleven works. Where’re we meeting?”

“Fret not. I’ll send the location.”

Come Friday, following the address brought you to the shadiest place you’d been since April took you into the sewers last week.

Man, your friend group was a whole situation.

The area itself was fine. Domestic, contemporary homes and apartments in a congested neighborhood, standard New York living arrangement. Your dubiousness, however, stemmed from the particular location: a horribly lit, uninhabited, possibly abandoned construction site.

Actually, it would probably be weirder for him to ask to meet you in a normal location with street lights.

You sent a quick text to Donnie, informing him that you were there and possibly telling him to hurry his shell up before stepping into the.dirt-coated lot. As you moved deeper into the area, you noticed a silhouette propped against the side of a big metal container. You squinted at the turned away figure, trying to make out any features.

Typing vigorously, wearing an oversized purple hoodie, hunched over their phone- okay, yeah, that was Donnie.

You quickly made your way over to him, leaning next to him on the container with a loud, metallic thud.

“Hey there, pal,” you grinned, a visible puff of air exiting your lips. Boy, was it cold.

He lackadaisically lifted an eyebrow at you as he finished typing something up on his phone. “Salutations. And refrain from calling me pal; we’re not pals.”

Donnie placed his phone and hands into his hoodie pocket and started making his way further into the shadows underneath the structure of steel beams and bars. You followed suit.

“What are we then?” you prompted playfully.

“Acquaintances.”

“Really? I don’t think people who are just acquaintances travel to literal mystic cities or even the sewers with each other.”

“Well, if you are so well versed on the classifications of relationship statuses, what do you consider us to be?”

“Friends, probably,” you shrugged.

“Probably?” he asked as he started to use a pin from his pocket to draw an unfamiliar insignia on an oddly placed brick wall.

You rested your hands on your hips. “I mean, thinking statistically about it, we’re probably friends.”

“In what universe does statistics have anything to do with this situation?”

“Ion’ know. You’re supposed to know about the science-and-math-y stuff. I’m just moral support.”

“No, you’re just throwing mathematical terms around haphazardly!” he exclaimed, gesticulating with his free hand.

“I probably am.”

His eye twitched. Before he could iterate his disdain for your insolence, the design he traced on the wall began to emit an electric blue shade. A static buzz entered the air, creating a warm, fuzzy feeling around you. Not comforting, though. It was reminiscent of the portals you’d encountered just last week.

Abruptly, a swirling amalgamation of light and energy came forth before you, small bursts of lightning zapping periodically.

Huh. You were right. Portals.

“Does this lead to that lab?” you asked, peering at it curiously.

“What do you say we find out?” Donnie gave a lazy grin before coolly stepping backwards into the portal.

You gawked. The audacity of this man to invite you adventuring and then leave you high and dry was astronomical.

That left you with two options: get out of there and have a cozy night in or follow him into a suspicious portal. Which, come on, you already knew what you were going to do: tail that turtle and make him rue leaving you behind like that.

With a roll of your eyes, you stepped, or fell, more so, into the portal, and that’s when things went loopy.

Your surroundings melted into a zero gravity tunnel of blue, insides churning in a manner akin to the swarm of colors around you. Everything looked distorted, warped into only sensations, and after moments of free fall and whiplash and weightlessness you plopped rather unceremoniously onto a brick path.

Somehow, the area you ended up in was even loopier than that.

For starters, the sky was a washy mix of apricot and slate and a golden color. Next up, and quite likely most pressingly, was the gigantic structure sitting before you. A short, rocky path trailed up to a floating cylindrical building, the size of which rivaled every building you’d ever seen in New York. The building was bathed in green light, had a balcony- and did you mention FLOATING?

“Holy-” You couldn’t help but go slack-jawed, earning a smug expression from the turtle.

“Mmhm.”

“Where are we?” You looked at the vast area behind you, the fiery orange sky littered with floating edifices and vessels and creatures of all varieties.

“Welcome to the Hidden City, my associate-”

You interjected, “-friend-”

“-entourage,” he corrected with the raise of an eyebrow.

You let it slide, not looking to lower your status any more. “Touché. Continue.”

“The Hidden City, a subterranean city-state far beneath New York City and home to the laboratory of former warrior-alchemist Barron Draxum,” Donnie introduced with a flourish of his hands.

You released an amused puff of air. “You feel good about letting out your inner theater kid?”

“I feel great, actually. But there’s no time to dwell on that. Onward, to exploration!”

He was really in full theatrics tonight, but you didn’t mind indulging. Lightly shaking your head at him, you joined him in moving up the path to the towering golden archway at the front of the building.

The door opened creakily, unsturdy on its hinges, shedding light on a decrepit, dust-ridden foyer. Large tapestries and artworks strewn about the halls were coated so thickly in dirt they almost couldn’t be made out. You shot him an uncertain look.

“Like I said, don’t keep your hopes up,” was all Donnie said in response before continuing down the dim corridor. You stalled, still weary about the condition of the building, before swiftly catching back up with him.

As you worked your way into the dark, desolate lab, Donnie lectured you on safety precautions. “Don’t touch anything unless it seems nonlethal and productive. Actually, just don’t touch anything.”

“So, I can’t open any drawers or anything?” you sassed.

He deadpanned. “You know what I mean.”

“Semantics matter, D.”

“Not really- fine, whatever. Let’s get to exploring,” Donnie conceded, excitedly flicking his goggles down with a smirk.

It was an instinct, really, that you clasped a hand over your mouth and terribly concealed a laugh upon seeing his goggle-covered eyes.

He stared at you blankly. “What?”

You waved your hand in front of you to dismiss yourself. “I’m sorry- I’ve just never seen you in the goggles.”

“I’ve worn them during every interaction of ours.”

“No, I mean like on your eyes. It makes them look all beady.”

“Wow. I appreciate that.”

You quickly defended yourself. “In a good way! It’s not bad, just different.”

“Ah yes, ‘beady in a good way’. I’ll log that one in the books.”

“Seriously, I thought they looked cute.”

He looked taken aback, lips pursed and face warm at that assertion.

“Not like that. Like an objective kind of cute.” You shook your head in disbelief at the words you were spewing. “Actually, nevermind. Forget I said any of that.”

“Agreed.” He rolled his eyes and set to work scanning shelves and drawers for any traces of the mysticism you were pursuing. For his sake, you didn’t mention how the pink tint on his face didn’t disappear until minutes into your guys’ search.

The search ended up unsuccessful. Sure, while scouring shelves and cabinets and odd cages around the spacious laboratory you found a whole lot more than you would expect in an abandoned building - elements in sealed jars, flasks of what seemed to be potions or ingredients - but nothing close to a crystal or gem.

After working your way around the room, you looked up at Donnie.

He shook his head and walked over to you. “It appears the lab’s a bust for any type of crystal. Not a total loss, though.” He held up a container labeled ‘emp.’ before one of the mechanical hands from his battle shell stored it for him. Another of the hands gave your shoulder a reassuring pat.

You shook your head. “No, we’re getting you a crystal, man.” You paused, thought of an alternative. “Are there any stores or markets nearby that might have them?”

“Ohmigosh, you are just full of great ideas.” You and Donnie began moving back toward the front.

He sounded like he might have meant that, but his voice was still startlingly monotonous. You narrowed your eyes, put your head askew. “For real?”

“Yes, this time,” the turtle nodded before excitedly gliding back down the entrance’s stairs.

You laughed, following along. “This time?”

“Surprisingly enough, yes.”

You caught up to him and landed a firm, still playful jab to his side.

“Just stop yapping and take us there.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what felt like eons of continuous motion, you two made it onto the streets of the Hidden City.

Brightly colored banners, advertisements, decorations, adorned lampposts all up and down the streets, though you avoided certain battle-themed ones. Multitudes of languages and dialects could be heard all around. The smells of delectable foods wafted through the air, sweet, savory, spicy, but you couldn’t pay them any mind. You were on a gem-hunting mission. Even if it wasn’t going very well currently.

The merchant running a crystal stand was slumped over on their counter, boredly staring at the customers that had been occupying their business for minutes on end without making a choice i.e. you and Donnie.

You raised an index finger at a particular pretty purple gem sitting in a pile of other ones on the counter of the stand.

Donnie flicked on his goggles and shook his head. “Uh, no. Not remotely. We’re looking to avoid overcurrent; that thing has enough mystic mojo to wipe out half the city.”

You slowly placed it down. “Oookay then. Glad to be of service,” you muttered.

He pursed his lips at your interesting body language. Slumped shoulders, hints of dejection in your voice - you weren’t having fun. Maybe it was because he immediately turned down the last five of your suggestions, but who could definitively say why?

“The issue is that you keep grabbing crystals that emit cool colors, which, as you know from the electromagnetic spectrum, correlate to a higher frequency. We don’t want that. So, as much as I would enjoy a violet crystal to match my ambience, something with a less vibrant, warmer hue works best.”

You slowly digested what he just said. Cautiously, your hand crept back to the merchant’s display and selected an auburn gem.

“That one’s frequency is too low-”

“Of course it is.”

“-but you’re on the right track! Try a little further down the electromagnetic spectrum-”

“What, something like this?” You gestured toward an amber gem that was near the bottom of the pile, exasperated.

Donnie hummed. “Actually, yeah. That’s just fine.”

“Really?”

“Shhh,” Donnie waved a hand telling you to calm down before pulling you aside. “There’s no fixed price on the signs here. If we seem too excited or gullible-”

“We get duped?” you guessed.

“We get duped. So stay cool, and let me handle this.”

Donnie cracked his knuckles and turned back to the stand, professionally ready to bargain and deal with the price.

He still ended up paying a ridiculous price for the small gem’s size, but you didn’t know if you’d ever seen him grin so proudly, so you didn’t say a word about it.

The first time you spoke up after the deal was made was after passing by a food cart and hearing your stomach rumble.

Donnie almost kept walking without you before you loosely clasped onto his wrist.

Puzzled, he turned back to you.

“Would you want to get something to eat? Like, while we’re down here,” you asked.

He pursed his lips. Just as he opened his mouth to retort or deny the requests, you were both hit with a wave of the most scrumptious food you’d smelled probably in your entire life.

“Okay, you have to admit that smell is heavenly,” you looked at him knowingly.

“I don’t have to do anything, but those do look fire.”

You gave him the best pleading look you had, and you could pinpoint the exact moment he caved in.

“Alright, we can take a quick detour from the exit.”

“Heck yeah! You rock, no correlation to geology,” you winked, adjusting your grip from his wrist to his hand so that you two wouldn’t get separated from you charging through the crowd.

And charge through that crowd you did.

Donnie in tow behind you, you bounded through the crowd excitedly, scarcely avoiding collisions all over.

However, the complaining Donatello in hand and sweating were inconsequential compared to being in line for a brand new type of culinary experience.

You were practically buzzing with joy, so excited that you momentarily forgot to relinquish Donnie’s hand. You still did though, just a moment shy of awkwardness.

You had made a good deal, had good company, and were about to have good food. What more could you want?

Still beaming, you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket and pulled it out.

The smile on your face quickly receded as you checked who was calling.

“Just a moment, I need to take this,” you muttered before slipping out of line and off through the crowd.

Donnie froze. He didn’t like the fact that whoever called seemed to ruin your mood, nor the idea of you being alone in an entirely unfamiliar city.

Reluctantly, he relinquished his spot in line - which was painfully close to the front, might he add - to find you.

It took a moment of weaving left and right, dodging up and down through a flurry of wings and tails for him to find the space between two buildings that you had moved yourself into.

Not wanting to intrude, he stood right outside the small alley, listening in by a complete coincidence. Certainly not out of nosiness in the slightest. Nope.

Anyway, he only got close enough to hear you mid-sentence.

“-you serious? Now, I don’t know if your section of New York is in a different time zone, but for me right now it is way too dark and way too late to be calling for conferences.”

A pause. Scraggly sounds faintly sounded from the other side of the call, not that he could make out an inkling of it. You, on the other hand, understood it all too well.

“Obligatory? Yes, I know what obligatory means, I just find the notion of a required meeting kinda dumb- Sorry, I mean extremely dumb.”

Another pause of you presumably getting chewed out passed before you, begrudgingly, grumbled, “Ugh, if you insist. Be there later.”

The phone call ended after that, and Donnie had no clue what to do.

Walking in normally could make it seem like he was eavesdropping, which he was but he didn’t want you to know that, but he couldn’t just stand still either.

After some careful contemplation, Donnie looked around and stumbled (definitely not purposefully) into the alley you were in. He seemed somewhat concerned; he hadn’t seen you that perturbed before.“Is everything alright?” he muttered vaguely, not wanting to overstep.

“Just yelling at my… mother’s urn- Anyway, once again, I have really got to go, this has been really fun, we should do this again sometime, am I missing anything else?” you joked lightheartedly. Thankfully the mood, along with Donnie, followed your attitude shift.

“I feel like a ‘thanks, you’re the best’ may be due,” your companion urged jokingly.

“Thanks Donnie, you’re the best.”

He huffed. “Kidding. I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t.”

For a probably too long moment, he made eye contact with you and your startlingly genuine eyes. Eventually, he tore his gaze away and cleared his throat. “... Let’s get you back to the surface.”

The trip back to the site of the portal was mostly silent, just the two of you trekking shoulder to shoulder through crowds of characters, before you entered the vertigo-inducing light once again.

The wind bit harshly at you as soon as you landed back on New Yorkian ground, an unkind reminder of the end of your adventure.

You blew a puff of warm air onto your hands and almost started walking on instinct before Donnie spoke, reminding you of his presence.

“Are you alright going back on your own?” he questioned quietly, almost coyly.

“I mean, I made it here on my own. I think I’ve got it covered.”

“Oh. Okay,” he concurred with a nod before giving you a pair of thumbs up. “In that case, make it home safely. Text you later?”

“Later,” you agreed emphatically. With one more nudge of his arm and a pivot in the other direction, you were off, out of the construction zone, on the sidewalk, down the street.

As you moved toward your destination, the skyscrapers and towering structures lining your path grew taller, more opulent, more lavish. Insignificant residentials morphed into substantial, old money commercials. Your heart rate climbed.

You paused in front of the grand doors of your location and took a deep, steadying breath. It was just some quick business you had to take care of. Brief. Inconsequential. Everything would be fine.

With some renewed confidence, or at least some semblance of it, you pulled on the handle and swiftly entered the hotel’s lobby.

The door closed thickly behind you with a thud.

Resonate. Absolute. Irrevocable.

(Artwork for part 5)

Taglist ~

@rottmntsimp

@envyjmoney

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #save rise of the tmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise season 3 #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rise of the tmnt #rise donatello x reader #rise donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donatello #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #soulmates #part 5

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