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slicznymartwy · 8 months

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I’m not sure if your comfortable with it, but if it’s alright, can I request Billy Lenz and the reader (established relationship) having some sort of conversation on his past and the reader comforting him?

this one is rlly sad im sorry :(( this is mostly hc since i've only ever watched the original 1974 film, so idk if this lines up with the canon from the other movies. from what i know about it, i think it's similar. no mention of agnes in this warning: sa of a minor mention, please do not read if that bothers you. also, reader insert was abused/beaten by their mom. very sad take care of yourselves please

☾⋆⁺₊ billy lenz x gn!reader

Night fills your bedroom and coats itself on the floors and walls, except for where the yellow streetlamp spills in past your curtains. Sparing a glance to the alarm clock on your bedside table, you see the time is so late it could already be considered early.

Still, you can’t think about sleep; not when Billy is laying beside you and the house is blissfully empty, two things so rare that it almost seems serendipitous. You’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you keep staring at the ceiling and let the warmth of his body radiate into yours.

“Billy,” you whisper into the quiet room. “Are you asleep?”

You can hear him grunt and squirm beside you, and you feel bad for waking him. It wasn’t often he got a full night’s rest on a bed, and you knew for a fact that there was no mattress in the attic. There were only so many chances to have Billy and the house all to yourself, though, and you don’t want to squander it.

“Billy,” you say again, nudging him with your foot.

He grunts again, but it sounds more cognisant than before. He reaches over himself to pat your arm, almost like he’s quieting down a noisy cat, and you can feel his hand trail down to your own. His palm covers the back of your hand, and he threads his fingers in between yours, curling them down together.

It’s a gesture so sweet that you’re tempted to let him fall back asleep. There’s no helping your addiction to him, though, and you tighten your fingers on top of his.

“I’m not tired,” you say with a pout. “I wanna talk.”

This time, Billy groans, low and long. You think it might be out of annoyance, but you can feel him stretching out beside you, straightening his long legs underneath the covers. He huffs when he’s done, eyes blinking open.

You love his pretty eyes, an orangey amber that you were always getting lost in, no matter how unsettling they could be. It always felt like he was staring into you, like he could see the marrow in your bones.

You loved his intensity. It made you feel alive when the rest of the world was tired and grey.

“Hi,” you say, reaching over with you unoccupied hand to touch his jaw. “I didn’t ask before. How was your day?”

He’s quiet for a long time, and you wonder if he can fall asleep with his eyes open, but then he says, “Bad.”

The word hangs in the air. Billy’s face gives up nothing, a blank page with no words of his own to say. You frown and pull your hand back from his face to rest on your own chest. The other stays in his hold, neither of you willing to let go.

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, although it doesn’t surprise you when Billy shakes his head against your pillow.

“Okay.” You squeeze against his fingers again, pulling gently on his arm so that it rested more heavily on top of you. The bedroom air is quiet, but your mind continues to race. It’ll be good for him to get it off his chest, you tell yourself.

“Is it something old or something new?”

He thinks about your words for a while, but then you hear him mutter, “Old.”

“Bad memories?” you ask, looking back at him. He blinks at you, then nods.

“I get bad memories, too.” You lean against him slightly, and glance up at the ceiling. “From when you were a kid?”

This time, Billy shrugs. You know you shouldn’t push him, but your heart aches to see him hurt and to not have the rememdy.

You turn around and let go of him for only a moment. You search for his hand again, this time with the opposite one to press your hands together, palm to palm. Your fingers entwine so easily, so naturally, that it makes your heart ache.

Maybe he just needs to know he’s not alone in whatever bullshit he’s had to endure in his life. Maybe it will help to know that you have bad memories too.

“My mom used to hit me,” you admit quietly. You stare at the way your hands mesh together, with your nails polished and Billy’s own chewed up. “She used to take my stepdad’s belt and hit me with it. Used to just be the leather part, but then she would swing the buckle at me too. She broke a tooth, but it was just a baby one. My adult teeth grew in alright.”

You keep your voice casual as you speak, because facts are facts, and there’s no reason to get upset about something you can’t change anymore. Besides, you reminesce about your childhood so infrequently that it feels like it all happened to another person.

You remember the beatings like you’re watching it happen to someone else – something else, because you don’t feel bad for them when they can’t sit at school because of the welts on their ass. You don’t bat an eye when their mom has to take them to the doctor to reset their broken nose.

“Bitch,” Billy spits out from beside you, and you have to laugh at the venom dripping in his voice.

“I don’t talk to her anymore,” you tell him, smiling sadly. You glance at him, but it’s hard to look at the mean look on his face. It probably isn’t for you, but your mind is traitorous and too sensitive.

Even worse, Billy could be mad on your behalf. No, you can’t think about that either, not when you’ve spent so long pretending that it didn’t really happen.

“Anyways. All that to say, I know what it’s like, having bad memories. You don’t have to tell me, just… I’m here for you,” you say, running your thumb along his hand where they’re still locked together.

“Want to,” he mutters, voice croaking unnaturally as he speaks in his own voice.

Quietly, you release his hand and instead wrap yourself around him, laying partially on top. He lets out a heavy sigh as you settle, with your arm coming up to rest by his head and your same-side leg resting over his hips. He watches the ceiling, and you watch his face from where you lay your ear to his chest

“Bad billy. Disgusting,” he mutters, and you pet his cheek with the back of your hand.

“I don’t think so.” You keep your voice careful and quiet, but he sighs and its agitated. Pent up memories start to overfill, and you can see it on his face.

“Mommy,” he starts, but his voice breaks and he coughs to clear his throat. “Mom. Fucking hate her. I hate her. Stupid fucking slut. She’s disgusting. Not me. Not Billy.”

You take your hand away from his face, watching how his expression continues to contort, mixing between anger and disgust and fear. It wrenches your heart in your chest.

“You’ve been so good, Billy. You’re not disgusting.”

“I hate her. I hate her,” he chants again. “Oh, Billy! Shut up!”

When he says his own name, it sounds like a feminine moan. You almost don’t understand, but the implication dawns on you only a moment later. It’s not difficult to piece it all together: his rage, the names he calls himself, the moan. You feel sick.

“Hey, we can stop,” you try gently, but Billy either doesn’t hear you or doesn’t want to stop.

“No one needs to know, Billy. Be a good boy.” You can’t look at his face anymore, the ugly way it scrunches up hurts you down to you core. Guilt claws at you from inside, and you wish you knew the right thing to say but you don’t. The truth, you decide, is enough for now.

“I hate her, too,” you tell him, and it sounds a little wet. You don’t let yourself cry, but your heart breaks for a younger Billy, afraid and confused.

“That’s my mom,” he says. You don’t know what he’s trying to convey when he says that – if he wants you to pity her, or if he’s sharing his betrayal with you. He whines, a painfully soft noise that gets trapped in his throat.

Gently, carefully, you card your fingers through his hair where you can reach, and you kiss his shoulder.

“She’s gone. She can’t hurt you anymore,” you tell him, although you don’t know if it’s true. You do know that, as long as you’re by his side, there’s no way you’ll let that woman touch him again.

“I wish I could kill her,” he says through clenched teeth. His voice is thick, like he might be crying. You can’t bare to look. Billy’s grief melts into you like it’s thermodynamics, heat into cold, and you can only hope that you can take some of his and ease his mind.

“How would you do it?” you whisper, pressing your hand over his hammering chest.

“Cut… cut her head off. Smash it like a pumpkin. Oh, Billy! Good boy, Billy. Shut up!” His voice breaks when he shouts. He coughs, then gasps for air, his breath shaking as he fights against the tightenness in his throat. “I’ll turn her teeth into pumpkin seeds,” he snarls.

Without warning, you move yourself to lay completely on top of him, pressing against his body with your body weight. He groans, and you’re sure you must be squishing him, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, his arms come up around you, hooked under your arms and pressing you against him with his hands at your shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” you tell him, pressing your face against his neck. “You’re okay now. It’s just us in here. Just me and you.”

“I hate her,” he whimpers again. “I hate her. I hate her.”

You don’t say anything, because you don’t think there are any words that could possible take away his hurt without also being a complete lie. Underneath your body, you can feel Billy start to relax, grounded back to reality from the rotten memories playing in his head.

“I’m sorry today was a bad day. We can have a good one tomorrow,” you say. It’s an impossible thing to promise, but you mean it like one. You’ll make sure Billy has a good day, whether fate wants it or not.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll kill your mom too.”

“Thank you,” you say. You kiss his temple, and he leans into your lips.

a/n: reblogs and replies are really appreciated

#billy lenz #black christmas (1974)#billy lenz x reader #slasher x reader #₊*. ⋆༘ — requests #i'm sorry if the pov changes anywhere accidentally #please ignore if i accidentally left in a 1st person pov mention i think i fixed most of it #if not .. forgive me pls #i shouldnt admit this but ive been messing around on c.ai #but its the worst thing ever idk why people rave about it #writing ur own fanfic >>>>>#its such a waste of time refreshing for a better response #when i know what i want them to say .. its just letting people be lazy #i want to shake everyone using it and tell them to just write their own stuff #its so much more rewarding #anyways i am ovulating and thinking about cod men .. its a terrible curse idk why i let this happen

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papa-evershed · 11 months

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RJC + laughter (requested by: anonymous)

#rob james-collier #robert james-collier #rob james collier #robert james collier #mine #okay anon i know this isn't exactly what you asked for although the follow up anon you sent me was helpful 😭#but between some technical issues and just being utterly exhausted i decided to just go for some good shots of him laughing #even if he wasn't quite collapsing i'm so sorry pls forgive me #but figured i'd throw something together instead of waiting another 84 years #but anyway #his laugh > everyone else's #sorry i don't make the rules #he laughs with his whole him #a++ would recommend to a friend

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wanderingaldecaldo · 10 months

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Happy Pride!

Just a couple of bisexuals in a bisexual relationship

Val's shirt | shoes | glasses + hat + Mitch's shirt (for V) + trees | poses

Pride means a lot to me. As a bisexual, female-presenting individual married to a cis, straight man, my queerness is often overlooked. A friend recently asked what characteristics of mine that I gave Val, and gender/sexuality are a big part of that. Streetkid Val is THE GENDER as my friend Bunny would (will) say, and so is Corpo Val, to be honest.

I've always had a complicated relationship with gender. I hated dresses and clothes shopping; loved sports and GI Joe and He-Man. I kinda liked Barbie though, but mostly for storytelling, not dress up. I never hated being a girl; I was just... different. I'm still different. I never developed a habit for makeup. I stopped shaving ages ago. Sometimes I embrace my femme side and wear florals and show off my curves (and hairy legs); sometimes it's the opposite. It depends on the day. Some days I have no gender and plan an amorphous blob wearing sweats and a hoodie if I have to leave the house.

Despite this, I always held claim to the word "woman". I'd fought to make a space for myself, someone who defied the physical gender expectations, and didn't want to give that up. But now, after playing with both versions of Val and getting to express myself through her, I know I'm not just a woman, but more. And more.

When I started my job last year, I made the big step of adding "she/they" as my pronouns. One of the managers asked if I had a preference between the two, and I said that either was fine. Usually people default to "she", and I don't mind because of the reasons I mentioned previously.

More than anything, "they" is a flag shouting my queerness; that I'm a woman and. Especially now, as other people try to gatekeep womanhood; to decide who can call themselves a woman. Anyone who wants to join me in this misogynistic hellscape, I am glad to call you a sister. There is room for women of all shapes and sizes and bodies and

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pulpitude · 2 months

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heehehheheheheheheh

im sorry i do not know what a butte is

#also yes i started playing it lives within #despite the fact i do not like the horror genre at all #i'll admit what drew me in is the character customization and the option to explicitly be trans #but so far i'm really loving everything #i'm currently playing as a trans!m!mc romancing abel #but i already have ideas for a trans!f!mc romancing amalia and a nb!mc romancing lincoln #i've yet to get to the part where jocelyn becomes an appealing character for me sorry #also luis reminds me a LOT of brainmelt bautista #pls forgive me my bp hyperfixation still isnt gone #playchoices #play choices #choices stories you play #choices game #choices stories we play #pixelberry #it lives anthology #it lives within #choices it lives

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random-jot · 1 year

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Nominations for some NEW Tumblr Sexymen:

Gary King from 'The World's End'

Dream Of The Endless from 'The Sandman'

The Corinthian from 'The Sandman'

Wacky Waving Inflatable Tube Man from real life

Quagsire from 'Pokémon'

Maurice Moss from 'The IT Crowd'

Konshu from 'Moon Knight'

Red Guy from 'Don't Hug Me I'm Scared'

Ultimate Tumblr Sexyman from 'Drawfee'

Gojo Satoru from 'Jujutsu Kaisen'

Hawks from 'My Hero Academia'

Muzan Kibutsuji from 'Demon Slayer'

Ice Pick Joe from 'Goncharov'

Howard from the old british Halifax ads

The Entire Cast of 'What We Do In The Shadows'

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anyachristinaemmanuellajenkins · 2 years

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trying to make myself watch ats for the first time is really just

#faith lehane i'm so sorry I forgot to add you and am too lazy to go back now girl pls forgive me <3 #btvs #ats #buffy the vampire slayer #cordelia chase #drusilla #darla ats #btvs meme #shitposting

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hazellblogs · 7 months

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#GUYS I WAS WRONG #to the ppl dming me asking me how I did this I'm sorry!!!#i didn't let the scene play long enough asklfgjaskfl #pls forgive forsooth #i can't get him out of that damn robe tho but let's take what we can get (it's part of his model basically)#this feeds into my rolan topping zerxis shizz so much and it's my headcanon that rolan is a bit taller #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 tav #zerxis #tiefling #zerxis x rolan #rolan #bg3 rolan #mygifs #more from this scene incoming #the wildheart and the wizard

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hi-im-greenjunipertree · 1 year

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Forgive me for this, but Papyrus in the Backyard Sports/Baseball art style (I'm planning on making an au where it's BYS but with Undertale characters instead lol)

#backyard sports au #undertale au #backyard sports #undertale #I'M SO SO SORRY EVERYONE PLS FORGIVE ME FOR THIS 😭😭😭😭#undertale papyrus #papyrus undertale #papyrus #nyeh heh heh #greenjunipertree's shitty doodles #underground baseball au #backyard baseball

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bookwyrm35 · 10 months

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June 21:Character Arcs

At first I wanted this day to be about Quill because honestly he has one of the best character arcs in the story and I could talk about my son for hours- but I've changed my mind. Today I would like to confront Holly's character and how I my perseption of her changed as she did.

Holly started out as one of my least favorite characters. She came out of no where, swept both Lockwood and George off thier feet instantly, and in so many ways invaded the safe space that Portland Row was for Lucy. She felt strict and demanding and stuck out like a needling throne in the midst of the homely chaos of Lockwood and Co.

Another part of the reason I disliked Holly so much at this stage was that...she reminded me a lot of the parts I don't like about myself. She over-organized, picked other people apart, showed them their worst parts in contrast to her best, and had an overall aura of "I'm better than you".

My whole life I have wished to be a Lucy. To be brave and talented and confident but never vain or haughty. I've always wanted to build a place where I am the master of my fate, a place where I am surrounded by friends, a place that is entirely our own.

I've always feared that I'm more like Holly. Perceived as "perfect" and flattered to my face, but hated behind closed doors. My mind plays tricks on me and constantly tells me that I'm invading, I'm putting too much of myself into a place even if I just tidied up. Seeing a character like that so blatantly disliked in these books brought those ugly thoughts to the surface and, I'm ashamed to say it, but instead of taking comfort or solidarity in Holly I turned my hatred of myself to hatred of her.

And then... the Poltergeist of Aickmere's happened. I had to take a moment in the middle of thier argument because Lucy didn't. I know she couldn't, not really, but I had to take a step back in that moment and realize a few things. This is when I realized how enormously brave Holly Munro is. This is when I realized she and Lucy are two sides to the same coin. Holly had every reason under the stars to leave the ghost hunting industry after what happened to her and her team. But she didn't, not fully at least. She stayed at Rotwells and took a desk job even when she hated who she worked under. She suffered for who knows how long because even if she couldn't bring herself to serve in the field, she believed she was still doing the world some good. Still protecting people anyway she could.

Unlike Lucy, she did have the luxury of possessing other skills that would have gotten her as far from agencies as she ever wanted. But she chose to stay. More than that, by joining Lockwood and Co. she decided to step back into a field that killed all of her friends. She had every reason to leave, but Holly Munro chose to stay and fight.

I bet she didn't expect more resistance from teammates than ghosts.

I can't imagine how horrible she must have felt when Lucy announced her resignation. Everyone, and I am certain that includes Holly, thought Lucy was leaving because of her. I remeber feeling as if the floor had been ripped out from under me as I read that scene, but imagine what it must have been like for Holly. Maybe she'd thought they'd made up, maybe she was excited to put their past pettiness and differences aside and move forward as a united agency...but no. Lucy left, and now it was up to Holly to keep the boys together.

I wonder if they blamed her. I know she must have blamed herself, even if only a little. And yet, once again, she stayed. I can just see it, her looking at Lockwood and George as they realize Lucy is gone and not coming back. The hopelessness that must have surrounded them. I bet she took on a lot more responsibilities after that. I think she took it upon herself to keep the case book full, make sure they ate, and just did everything she could to help keep them together when they were falling apart. It's no wonder that her first words to Lucy are how much she missed her.

And then comes my favorite part. We get to see in Aldbury Castle Holly's reaction to Lockwood and Lucy 'dieing'. It's hard to explain why but it brings literal tears to my eyes to think of a wild, mad eyed, crazed hair Holly going absolutely savage on the research workers after thinking her friends had died. Like Lucy, seeing the madwoman behind the primp and proper lady made me love and admire her so much more.

I think this is when it struck me how human Holly is. How fiercely loyal she is, and how much she truly cares. It was never a bad thing to be like Holly, and this is when I started to see that.

It was a little bit after things had settled down (and promptly got stirred up again) that my next favorite part comes. It's when Penelope comes to Portland Row, using all tactics at her disposal to pressure Lockwood and Co out of business. Lucy's pretty silent through the whole thing, but the second that snake dares paint Holly as a coward- if their rapiers had been within grabbing distance you know someone would have walked out there with blood on their hands.

Holly began in my eyes like somthing of an infection, quick to run its course and needing to be taken out. But I now I see her for the true beauty and nessecity that she is. Lockwood and Co would not have survived without her. She is the constant, she is their stability, and when they need it, she is their brave, brilliant, and a bit of a madwoman of an agent.

#save lockwood and co #bring back lockwood and co #This is so long what happened #I'm so sorry #This got kinda personal #My bad #It's one in the morning so pls forgive me #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #george cubbins #holly munro #I'm finally ready to say it #HOLLY MY BELOVED!#quill kipps #lockwood and co books #lockwood and co show #renew lockwood and co

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starmocha · 2 months

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I hope Love and Deepspace understands that it's the homewrecker of otome games right now

#love and deepspace #lnds ramblings #pls i rush through mlqc dailies just so i can open up lad #i'm so sorry gavin forgive me #😭#not to mention my blog somehow accidentally turned into a lad fanblog currently #💀

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

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hello, congratulations my beautiful funny grandpa friend on your follower milestone! as discussed, i have a drabble request: namgi, a blowjob, and a happy ending. yours to do with what you will - as explicit or vague as you like and you don't have to use my favorite ao3 tag if u don't want. okie, love u - good job being awesome on tumblr and reminding me it exists

yeah, hi, we're not gonna discuss how long this has been sitting in my ask box. we're gonna pretend that this showed up within the last two days.

flow job

pairing: yoongi x namjoon genre: underground rap scene au, fwb au; pwp warnings: this is obviously gay mxm stuff, so please do not interact if that's not your thing. swearing, public sex, oral sex, unedited. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 1k listen to: cypher pt.3 by bts

it's bee's birthday! send me yoongi requests and/or fic recs!

There’s something about the way Yoongi raps.

It fucks Namjoon up a little. (A lot.) Has him standing far enough in the side-stage shadows to adjust his jeans. Has his fingers twitching at his sides, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch, but he has to remember where they are. Who they’re around. Has to remember that this is part of the routine.

Because it’s not the first time.

Won’t be the last, either. Yoongi likes knowing Namjoon’s watching him, that he’s strung tight and a little desperate by the time Yoongi’s done. Likes feeling Namjoon’s heated gaze on him every time he wordplays some filthy line; every time his tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip. Likes taking the last slot of the night because it’s always the longest, and god knows Yoongi likes to draw it out, prolong the game.

The beat Yoongi’s rapping along to is dirty. Namjoon can feel the bass in his chest, but Yoongi rides it well. Better than anyone else in this grimy club. Looks better than anyone, too, but it’s the competence that does it for Namjoon. What had him approaching Yoongi to begin with, a little awestruck and inspired and a lot horny, and Yoongi had smirked out of the side of his mouth and that was the end of life as Namjoon had known it. Had him shoved in a disgusting bathroom stall with his pants pulled taut around his thighs, Yoongi on his knees in front of him.

Now it’s a thing.

Only ever here. Only in these seedy underground clubs where they’re known only by their stage names. Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi only exist here to one another.

Yoongi spits one more line right as the beat cuts out and he drops his microphone on the floor. There’s screaming, thunderous applause, but Namjoon hears none of it. All that exists to him is Yoongi and the way he finds him in the dark immediately, knows all his hiding places, and the hunger evident on his face.

Namjoon is a man that needs little instruction. Smart as hell but just as clumsy, yet always seems to know exactly what to do when it comes to Yoongi. Namjoon might call it intuition if the promise of Yoongi’s wet, hot mouth didn’t have his brain short-circuiting, but, well.

They’ve only played this club once before, but Namjoon has the layout memorized. Knows exactly where to go. Knows all the turns, how many steps. Hasn’t thought of much else since the last time he had Yoongi’s mouth on him. Two weeks, and he’s been fucked up and on fire ever since.

Sometimes Yoongi is gentle and teasing, but tonight he moves like he’s possessed. Slams a stall door open and pushes Namjoon inside of it with little regard for his well-being. No regard for anyone who might play witness to this, either, because he’s back on his knees before Namjoon can blink. Has his belt undone and his jeans pulled down while the crowd is still chanting his stage name.

“Hy-hyung,” Namjoon tries to choke out, but it comes out all breathy and stuttered. Tries to tangle his hands in Yoongi’s hair, too, but he swats his hands away.

“Shut up,” Yoongi replies, and it’s all heat but no disdain. “Fuck, I thought about this the entire time.”

Namjoon’s briefs get tucked beneath his balls and he braces himself for the feel of Yoongi’s mouth—sucks in one breath and then another, steadies himself against the stall door—but there’s… nothing. He cracks one eye open and looks down. Whimpers at the sight of Yoongi there, cheeks flushed, looking at Namjoon the same way Namjoon knows he looks at him.

“Are you gonna…”

It’s all gums when Yoongi smiles. Seems to laugh despite himself. “Suck your dick? Yeah, I’m working on it.”

“Doesn’t seem to be the case, hyung.”

“Give me a fucking second, Namjoon, I’m thinking.”

“Can you think later? My dick hurts and your knees are gonna bruise. Not to mention this club is probably the nastiest one we come to—”

Yoongi scoffs. Spits in his hand and pumps the length of Namjoon’s cock just to shut him up. It works. It really works, because Namjoon’s moaning and thrusting his hips into Yoongi’s hand like no one’s ever touched his dick before. Pathetic. Namjoon knows it is, but he can’t help himself. When just a look from Yoongi can have him unraveling, it’s unrealistic to expect him to be able to withstand this kind of assault.

“I was thinking,” Yoongi continues, replacing his hand with languid, slow licks from the base of Namjoon’s cock to the tip, “about how to—” Sucks hard at the tip just to laugh when Namjoon swears. “—ask you out.”

And because he’s a bastard, Yoongi doesn’t give him a chance to reply. Just swallows the entire length of Namjoon’s cock, and whatever sounds and words come out of Namjoon’s mouth are no longer his responsibility. Whatever he does with his hips isn’t, either, because he’s been keyed up since he first laid eyes on Yoongi hours ago. Has exhibited impressive restraint, so he figures he’s allowed to let go. He’s allowed to fuck Yoongi’s mouth in shallow strokes until he’s snug in his throat.

“Fuck, fuck,” he groans. The chase is mindless, now. Nothing exists beyond the feel of Yoongi’s mouth. “Hy-hyung, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Yoongi pulls off long enough to roll his eyes and say, “Jesus, already?” before Namjoon finally tangles his hands in his hair and feeds his cock back into his mouth. Then it’s just instinct.

Namjoon comes with a long, drawn-out moan. The kind of orgasm that has his legs trembling, no longer able to support his weight, and he wants to sink to the floor and ride it out but he refuses to put his bare ass on the grungy tile. “Oh my god,” he says, swallowing hard to try and catch his breath.

Yoongi is completely unbothered. Stands to dust off his knees. “Am I allowed to think now?”

“Sure,” Namjoon concedes, “but I can’t. I think you sucked me stupid.”

Yoongi scoffs, rolls his eyes again, but Namjoon can see the shy smile that’s threatening to break through. Can see the blush spreading across his cheeks. “You’d think you’d be used to it by now. You wanna go grab a drink with me?”

Namjoon falters. Isn’t sure he’s hearing correctly. Knows, logically, that Yoongi had mentioned it just minutes earlier but thought maybe he’d misheard, like some mirage in the horny desert that’s Namjoon’s brain. Gets distracted by Yoongi’s spit-slicked lips, the way the yellowed, fluorescent lights of the bathroom glint off his mouth, the way he swipes his tongue at the corner, and blurts out:

“Is this why your stage name is Gloss?”

Yoongi’s stunned. Just blinks owlishly. “You really think I’ve made a habit of blowing people in club bathrooms and named myself after it?”

“Well, I don’t know, your mouth just looks—”

“Just shut up, Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi says, and Namjoon decides it’s advice worth taking. “Do you want to go out with me or not? I’m not asking again.”

He nods.

#beeday drabbles #jewel answers #jewel writes #lauren i love u i'm so sorry this took 500 years pls forgive me #yoongi x namjoon #namjoon x yoongi

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