#this also goes hand in hand with my take that Pebbles is actually the least pathetic iterator in the whole fuckin game n i 'FUCK everybody-
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Wait, so you mentioned a few times you've got Strong Feelings about 7RS, so uh. could you articulate those feelings please?
they are just so fuckin....
like aight my initial reactions to some of the broadcasts were this
(didn't have it figured out yet that Suns used they/them at that time)
because like lets set the setting for NSH here, alright? he has this friend he's been loving for who knows how fucking long. after all the Ancients left everybody was ought to feel lonely and thank the all good in this world he has probably found solace in this other iterator, Looks to the Moon. she means a lot to him. he wants her to be okay
so he tells this to this one other guy he's been talking with and also finding solace in. he tells them that he really cares for Moon, that they've been close, that he's so fucking scared right now for her because he just doesn't want her to be hurt. he cares for her to SUCH extent that he leaves behind his jokester shtick (and local therapist friend shtick, as per me headcanons and perception) and actually grows cold and actually kind of fucking bitey????
like in one broadcast i was marvelling over how healthy their communication actually seemed, next moment i know NSH is hammering it into Suns how much of a fucking idiot they are for all of this. the THERAPIST FRIEND goes OUT of his way to ATTACK HIS FRIEND (however subtly and verbally). that is INSANE to me, i'm often in the position of the therapist friend and it usually takes so much for me to actively attack and then give a cold shoulder to the bud???
and on top of all of this Suns goes ahead and call this entire dooming fucking situation a "SETBACK" to Pebbles' development into a satisfactory enough cynical person, i'm going to fucking throttle this toaster.
but at the other hand, despite all of this, Suns isn't necessarily a bad person! i'm not actually saying that nor i actually think that. they obviously care for people (Pebbles, Spear), but they are just so fucking emotionally stupid that they don't know how to go about it or they just really realize a thing much Later. they are slow as shit when it comes to processing emotions. they are analytical and very logic based, which isn't a bad thing but yanno! no matter how you are as a person you are still responsible how you are going to act towards the people around you. you are expected to Not Hurt others and such a thing as actually Hurting someone will not be accepted
low empathy or low sympathy or lack of experience with the emotional aspect of life does not equal or excuse being a shit person
again, but they do care. all of the iterators are fucked up by a religion taken to extremist reaches (as per my understanding of the lore and the RW world). so naturally, they are going to believe that sending step by step instructions on how to commit suicide is a good thing. so i don't actually blame them for that, even though it is horrifying when We look at it. it's how they showed that they care for this little pink fool. they tell him that everything is useless and they are fated to run in circles over and over again. that it is good to lose your ambitions and the fire of a fight in you. they truly think That is the best course of action one can take- the whole Society believes in that and because of That these helplessness inducing advices are signs of care and love
they want Pebbles to be happy. they want to lead him to safety and show him how things work. protect him from the tiring useless fight that is swimming against the stream of a river
and yet they are so cold and hurtful. Suns is a mess of opposites- the warm and kinder ones forced behind their Exact negatives
#Spot says stuff#rw#Seven Red Suns is... heavy#if you know what i mean by that. fuckin makes sense too what with their name being that goddamn#this also goes hand in hand with my take that Pebbles is actually the least pathetic iterator in the whole fuckin game n i 'FUCK everybody-#-else. i reSPECT you!!!!!!!!!!!' meme#idk if my rambling is understandable but yea... i think this is the best i can do when it comes to explainin my views on Suns
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Love's Remedy ༓ jjk (m) l Ch. III
✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.
Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader
AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 4,378
Warnings: jk is very determined to "win" oc, jk a romantic, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), protective!koo again, oc is an engineering student, PC Bang, jk is a king at LOL (League of Legends), jk lowkey flirts with new person, oc gets cold feet but please don't blame her 🥹, jk and oc get on level ground after hashing things through, themes of stalker-ish behavior (not oc or jk!), feat Jackson and Jae-beom, if i missed warning lmk!
Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+
A/N: For reference a PC Bang is: "a type of LAN gaming center and Internet cafe in South Korea, where patrons can play multiplayer computer games for an hourly fee". Also, I am not a gaming guru but I try for this chapter that means I researched haha Enjoy! 💞
<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist
A week later, Jungkook waits for you at your agreed rendezvous point; for over an hour. You promised to meet him near the campus garden at 7 pm but here it is almost 8 pm and you're a no-show.
He checks his phone for the fourteenth time since arriving–no reply.
Jungkook tries not to jump to conclusions but you broke your word and you ghosted him.
He thinks back to last week when he'd stepped between you and Jun-ho. And when you followed him back to his dorm where he told you he could love and take care of you, as you helped patch his wound. Had he come on too strong? Did you get into more trouble that he didn't know about?
He kicks a few pebbles by his feet, sending them flying in every which way, as the number of endless possibilities rattles his brain.
"Stupid," he cusses himself. "You're just so fucking stupid."
How could he believe that after two short weeks of random run-ins with you that he'd earn your interest? You told him you don't do relationships yet he still shows up, anxiously presenting himself as your knight in shining armor. Any sane person would tell him he was barking up a dead tree.
"Might as well get a head start on next week's homework." Jungkook loses hope, trotting back to the dormitory with the wind howling and mocking behind him.
"What do you mean she ditched you?" The boisterous inquisition belongs to Jackson who's looking thoroughly offended once hearing his new best friend was shown up. He isn't sure how much this woman meant to him, but either way, it makes him livid. Even if you weren't going to go out with him, you should've at least told him like a decent human being.
"I really thought she'd come," Jungkook replies with his heavy eyes. He walks alongside the blonde-haired boy, dirt crunching below his feet. "Guess she had something better to do."
"No." Jackson stops in the middle of the road. "You know who actually has better things to do? It's you. What do you say to hitting up the PC Bang downtown? Play a little League of Legends or Overwatch?"
Jungkook shrugs with less enthusiasm than a snail. "Sure…"
"Hey man," Jackson puts a hand on Jungkook's shoulder. "I'm sorry about you and __. It sucks being stood up. I've had my fair share and you just gotta take it as a blessing that nothing else happened between you both. Nine times out of ten, it didn't have anything to do with you either so don't blame yourself. Take it as a lesson and keep working on yourself until the right person shows up. They'll be the person you can truly give yourself to."
"Hard to believe you've been shown up. You're charismatic, confident, in good shape, have good facial features, and you're getting your MD." Jungkook's aware of his friend's attempt to lift his spirits but he can't fathom anyone not giving Jackson the time of day. Due looks like a pop star in the making.
"Nah, most of what you just said is me bullshitting my way through life. I'm not all that," Jackson rejects, striding forward. "I got rejected by a girl a few days ago myself."
"Had a boyfriend?"
"Nope, just didn't like me. And she doesn't go out with first -years apparently."
"Oh," Jungkook's eyebrows shoot up. "She was an upperclassman?"
"Yup, on her third year."
At this Jungkook's mouth gapes open. "No wonder she said no. What the hell are you doing trying to go out with a third-year?” The accusatory tone spins Jackson's head–he's a sad little puppy with you but a bulldog with him. What a puzzling fellow.
"Same thing you're doing trying to convince someone who doesn't want a relationship to go out with you."
Jungkook dials back his previous assertion. "We're idiots."
"Correction. we're dreamers." Jackson slaps him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go burn some shit up at the internet cafe."
By the time he and Jackson get to the cafe nearly all the computers are taken. It's no surprise since PC Bang's are quite a rave amongst university students like themselves. You can play the hottest games for hours while stuffing yourself full with whatever food's served on the cafe menu–all for a small fee of course.
"Let's go here." Jackson manages to grab two free id cards from the counter–guiding them to two empty PCs, side by side to each other. "How long do you want to play for?"
Jungkook sinks himself in the leather gaming chair and powers on the machine in front of him. "I'm good until 6 pm, but then I should head back to my dorm and do homework."
"Cool, same for me. We'll play for three hours then."
"What should we play?" Jungkook tosses the headset over his ears and scrolls through the game options. Jackson does the same.
"Kinda in the mood for LOL." He flips to the game's screen card. "Gonna need to join a team though."
"No problem.," Jungkook clicks the game on his own pc until the loading screen covers his view. "So many people play League of Legends. We'll be able to find one in no time."
Jackson nods and opens LOL himself. "Let's kick some ass."
"Fuck yeah," Jungkook mumbles, inaudible to everyone but himself.
An hour passes and he and Jackson have been hammering their opponents into the digital abyss. The thrill and surge of adrenaline cause him to forget previous heartaches–aka you. Plus, after finding a team of three to jump into; one member who happens to be female, Jungkook's been able to turn his attention to other prospects.
"Soomin, how long have you been playing LOL for?" Jungkook decides to learn more about his female teammate after claiming the final victory over the opposing team.
"Five years," her raspy voice comes through his headset. It sure is a unique voice, he notes.
"Same. We should play on a team more often. In fact, Jackson and I are thinking about building an official LOL team so we could use a third person. You're really good so if you want, we'd love to have you." Beside him, his friend gives him a confused look. 'We are?' he mouths silently which Jungkook ignores.
"Wait really?" She pauses a moment. "I've never been on a permanent team before. I guess that'd be cool."
"I play late at night sometimes too. Meaning if you ever wanna jump on with me shoot me a message or something."
"Alright, I'll jot down your username."
"Already got yours memorized," he says, a tad more cocky than he meant.
"Damn," she cusses. "You work fast. By the way, do you go to university?"
"Yeah, I go to Seoul National University."
"No way, what year are you? I attend there too. I'm a second-year."
"What?!" He nearly hits the ceiling once the information is disclosed. He had no idea Soomin would be this close and that he could meet her in person. call him eager but should he ask her out? No…he's already made that move with you and look where it left him. He'll ask to hang out first. "We should meet Soomin. As long as you don't mind that I'm a first-year that is," Jungkook chuckle lightly and looks over to Jackson who immediately gives him a double thumbs up.
"Well I'm kinda busy this week but how about next week? Also, if it's good with you, can my boyfriend come?"
Fuck. If this is some kinda joke he'd like to catch a break any time now. Not that he was as intrigued with Soomin as he was, or still is, with you but he definitely thought it was going somewhere!
"You're dating?" Jungkook watches Jackson lower his double thumbs up, frowny face on.
"Yeah, we've been together for a year. Met as classmates." When she giggles Jungkook has the unexpected urge to roll his eyes. Of course, you did, he mutters, just a perfectly peachy coincidence for you two.
"Well that's nice," he says bitterly.
"Oh, I'm sorry Jungkook. He's actually calling me now so I have to go but I'll talk to you soon. And message me when you want to meet. I'll tell my boyfriend about you!"
Great. Jungkook bids her goodbye and she signs off.
"Sorry about Soomin. She seemed cute." Jackson slides his headset off his ears to rest them around his neck. "But you know what? You're still a force to be reckoned with inside the virtual world. I honestly don't know how you do it."
Jungkook grins shyly and slips his headset on the desk. "I've been playing for a long time. Must be something to do with that." He throws a hand over his abdomen when his stomach rumbles at the same time. "We should order food." He browses the cafe's extensive menu on his pc. Nothing but rows and rows of tasty options flash back at him, urging him to spend fortunes.
Still, he's got to cap it at some point with only about 2,000,000 Korean won (about 1,500 USD) in his bank account. The Jeon family is wealthy but Jungkook is not. His parents are especially careful to inform him that generational wealth is not going to be given to him freely. Instead, he is to earn his own money, starting at the car wash which he worked at over the summer.
"I'm getting an order of Tteokbokki and a soju. What about you?" Jackson punches in his order, sparing a glance at Jungkook who's tapping on his keyboard with one hand while the other rests under his chin.
"The Jjajangmyeon looks good. I'll get that with a soju too." After Jungkook enters in his own order he strolls his chair out from under the gaming table. "Do you see a bathroom around here?"
"Yeah, it's all the way to that far right corner." Jackson points in that direction with his thumb.
"Okay, I'll be right back."
Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom.
Jungkook repeats the simple word to himself. He scans the corner Jackson gestured towards earlier but sees nothing except a giant blank wall. Must have meant the opposite direction. He turns himself around to scout the other side of the floor.
"Excuse me sir-" a voice chimes close behind him.
"Oh sorry." He steps aside to let the young lady by and as soon as he does his whole body jerks forward in shock. "__!"
You turn around with the tray of food in your hand in what looks like a work uniform. "Yes, what can I do–Kookie?" You grip the plastic tray firmer to keep it from shaking uncontrollably, though the clamminess of your palms makes it a challenging task. Seeing Jungkook at the place you work was bound to happen being that the PC Bang is close to the university. You just weren't prepared for it to be tonight during one of your last shifts of the season.
"I didn't know you worked here."
"Yeah, only part-time." After bumping into Jungkook moments ago, you found it inevitable to avoid him further. You agreed to meet him outside once your break started. "I'm planning on leaving before the semester gets crazy. I have about a week left probably."
It dawns on Jungkook that he doesn't know what you study so with shifty eyes and clenched fists, he asks. "What are you going for?"
"Engineering." You can tell he wasn't expecting that for an answer; most don't be a woman in the field and all. "Jungkook, let's not do this. I'm sorry about what happened the other night." A sick queasy feeling settles in your gut–you're well aware you did Jungkook wrong. You're not proud of it in the slightest and him standing in front of you right now only reminds you of your guilt.
"I waited for you __. You said you come even if it was a rejection." A twinge of hurt laces behind his words and he keeps a controlled stance. He doesn't get in your face, demanding for an answer, nor does he break down and cry. He's more inquisitive than anything else. "Where were you? Why didn't you come?"
"I–" You intertwine your fingers, a nervous habit you picked up in childhood. "I panicked Kookie. I'm so sorry."
Jungkook stiffens when he hears the endearing name drop from your soft lips again. It was nice at first but now it feels like a sharp pain twisting in his side, like a thorn only for his misery. "Can you not call me that, please? It's–It's making me uncomfortable."
"Oh god," you lunge forward out of instinct but freeze when he steps back. "Jungkook I really am sorry. I was planning to see you. I had my shoes on and everything. Like I said I panicked, I'm not suited for relationships. And I'm not suited for you."
The last part stings the most.
"But–"
“There’s no buts Jungkook." You place your hand on the door of the building. " I have to get back to work."
"Wait!"Jungkook moves to face in front of you from an angle. "You say you're not suited for relationships but why did you get ready to see me? Why didn't you just say no to me? And last week when you told me you needed more time to think…was it a lie?"
"Because I like you okay? You're cute, protective, sweet, but you like me too much." you release the handle. "You don't know anything about me yet you've already got into a fistfight with an obscene jerk for me and claim you'll wait for me even when you just met me. If you love me this much now how much more will you love me later?"
" I'll love you for eternity."
"See this is it, Jeon. You saying stuff like this before anything real has happened between us–it's too much. How can you be this devoted to basically a stranger? You'll love me for eternity but have you considered that maybe I won't?"
"What are you saying?"
"What makes you think I'll love you as much as you do me?"
" I don't think like that __. I don't want a relationship so I can see what I can get. that's not how my mind works. I understand that I've been very forward with you. I should have been more conscientious about how that would make you feel but when I say that I love–"
"Please, don't drop the 'L' word. If you're saying love then you don't love me; only the idea of me."
Jungkook pauses, wordless
"Never thought of it that way huh? Guess not. Let me ask you something…do you know what I do? With men?"
He swallows and shakes his head no
"I sleep with them. A new guy a week if not twice a week. People call me a whore, and I'm spreading my legs for everyone and anyone willing. Do you want to get involved with someone like that?" You wipe away an escaped tear.
"I don't care about that at all __."
"Well, you should! This is who I am Jungkook. I can't let you be responsible for me. So unless you want a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits relationship, I suggest you forget about me. I can't be your girlfriend."
"__!" Your manager shoves the front door open, causing you and Jungkook to jolt in surprise. " Where have you been? We have about twenty orders that need to be served."
"Sorry Manager Choi. I'll get right on it." You spare Jungkook one last glance before disappearing back inside the PC Bang. "I'm sorry," you say with a lowered head.
That night Jungkook lays on his bed, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts list. His logical side whispers for him to delete it. His heart says to call, text, or do something to–no. He remembers your pained facial expression; on the verge of tears as you explained to him that he'd been too quick in making his mind up about you. But then he replays your final words.
"…unless you want a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits relationship, I suggest you forget about me. I can't be your girlfriend."
Well, he doesn't want the first two but if it meant he could be in your life longer–stop. His logical side intrudes. "You don't want to go down that path," he matters to himself. "It's better if you just delete the number." Jungkook moves to tap the trash can icon on your phone contact, a pang in his chest. Just as he's mustered up enough strength his phone buzzes off, screen lighting the entirety of the darkened dorm room. His roommate groans at the sound and rolls over in their bed.
"Jungkook," said roommate rubs his face. "I have an 8:15 tomorrow morning. Please speak take it in the hallway."
Jungkook quietly jumps out of bed not solely because of courtesy to his roommate but also because it's from you.
"Jungkook… can you um…"
"__?" He eases the door shut behind him and paces up and down the hallway. "Are you there?"
"Can you meet me at the bus stop near the campus library/ I'm sorry to be asking you it's just that…Jun-ho's–"
"What is it? Are you okay? What about Jun-ho?"
" I'm taking the bus back from work and he's on the same one he keeps staring at me and I'm scared of following me back to my dorm. Please Kookie-Jungkook I mean. I don't have any right to ask you, I know. He won't try anything with the bus driver here but once I get off I'll be alone. I have some pepper spray in my bag–"
"Yes, yes I'll be right there. How far are you out?" This isn't about pursuing you, impressing you, or anything like that anymore; it's about your safety. Jungkook leaps into his room, grabs his wallet, and shoves the sneakers on his feet. "__? Did you hear me?"
" I'm five minutes from the stop. Oh, he's, he's still staring at me."
"Don't look at him __. I'm walking down right now. Stay on the phone with me. I'll be waiting for you when you get there okay?"
"Thank you Kook. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. If Jun-ho's tracking you down like a wolf, it'll be his funeral." The icy tone in Jungkook's typically warm, milky tone sends a shiver up your spine.
The bus you're on pulls up in exactly five minutes, as you estimated. Jungkook frantically searches for you through the window glass, growling when he sees Jun-ho standing up a few rows behind you. He makes sure to be as close to the bus's exit doors as possible so he can grab your hand as soon as you step out.
"Hey!" He greets you loudly. "How was your shift?"
"Great! We were running around like crazy but thankfully, I didn't have to work through the night." You cling his hand tighter, slinging your other arm around his.
"That's a blessing." Jungkook and you walk faster, putting more space between you and Jun-ho. "You must be tired."
"Oh yeah, I can't wait to slee–ah!" You trip over a ledge on the sidewalk. Jungkook grips you before you completely fall flat on your behind.
"New feet?" He can't help but joke and you slap his arm. Jungkook helps straighten you back up, your hands remain interlocked. When it comes to a split in the road, you and Jungkook filter to the right side towards the female dorms. You hope to god Jun-ho takes the left.
"He's such a fucker." Jungkook curses, peering over his shoulder just enough to see Jun-ho faltering at the intersection. He burns holes at both of you so much that it makes Jungkook feel like kneeing him in the gut but he doesn't want to provoke the bastard–putting you in unpredictable danger. "I'll get you to your dorm. Which one is yours?"
"Up ahead." You gesture at the brick building with the number 318.
"We can let go of our hands now." You're the first to speak after arriving outside your dorm.
Jun-ho thankfully did not follow you any more than back at the split in the path between male and female dorms. The fact that he still attends school here makes your skin crawl. You don't exactly like calling people a mistake but Jun-ho is by far an exception. You messed around with the guy one time while you both were a bit tipsy and he keeps hounding you. If you need to, you will make him stay away from you permanently.
"Promise me you'll get a restraining order on him if this happens again or gets worse." Jungkook ignores your suggestion to release your hands. "That idiot has no right to be around you."
"I will. Thank you for coming out. I was nervous to call you being what happened earlier. I truly, from the bottom of my heart, am sorry. And I know having to go back to work left things hanging so if there's anything else you wanted to talk about or tell me, please feel free."
"Anything for you–" slips out of his mouth before he can stop it. He slaps a hand over his mouth instantly, you chuckle softly.
"It's okay Jungkook," you reassure. "I can tell you wear your heart on your sleeve. You're naturally very accommodating and flattering."
"And you're beautiful. Damnit, I did it again. I'm sorry __, but whenever I look at you I feel butterflies and I say a lot of fluffy stuff. I'm not trying to flirt or impress you by using what can be in the right context, shallow methods. But yeah, I was thinking about what happened at the cafe earlier tonight and I think get it–I've been too quick to the draw. I'm honestly not sure why I'm so attracted to you other than the fact that you're breathtakingly gorgeous in literally every way, both physical and non-physical. It makes me want to know you more. And the fact that assholes like Jun-ho won't leave you alone makes me want to be your personal bodyguard or something. I don't lift as much as him but fuck, I can keep him in his place. I'm starting to sound crazy, aren't I? It's like you said, we're strangers after all…right?"
Jungkook waits for you to respond. The cool autumn air is crisp against your cheeks, not cold enough to see your own breath, but enough to have you secretly grateful for the warmth that comes from his hand. That's right, you've been clinging onto his hand for dear life for the past fifteen or more minutes. You should probably let go now if weren't for the fact that he's also clinging onto yours just as hard.
"You really want to know me Kookie?" You brush a few strands of his hair that have blown in front of his eyes. He's incredibly handsome now…how did you not see it before? Sure he's cute with his bunny-like smile, mole on his button nose, and his adorable voice that makes you oh so soft and comfortable inside. But he's also handsome with his piercing oak tree-colored eyes, perfectly sharp jaw, and eager yet tenacious energy that always seems to show up for you.
Jungkook takes your other hand in his, swinging them between you both. "Of course," his earnest voice chippers. "It’s next to impossible for me not to want to know you. I'm sure I'll eventually move on if that's what you really want, but if there's another alternative that can avoid that I'd like to take it. You seem to be in deep thought about something…" he switches up his response when he notices you don't look as alert as you usually do. “__.”
"I'm here," you say, the tiniest bit dazed. "I was just thinking about something."
"Yeah I know, but about what?"
You swallow before replying. “…You.”
Jungkook smiles sheepishly. You're unsure if he's pleased or nervous. "Is it–is it something good or should we leave it here?"
"Are you free tomorrow?" You bite the inside of your cheek, begging yourself not to take it back. "It's Sunday so I get if you have some last-minute studying to do. Just thought maybe we could do something….together." Jungkook goes to reply, cheeks more than raised but you continue speaking before he sounds a word. "It's not a date per se. I'm being crazy annoying but I'd like to be friends first with something extra."
"You said no to friends before though. This isn't an offer to be friends with benefits is it?"
"That was when I wasn't sure what I wanted with you if anything. I didn't want to take advantage of you or anything. I want to start as friends so we can see if we can somehow be more. I'm interested in you Jungkook so no, not friends with benefits but rather, friends with the potential to be more."
"Okay," Jungkook squeezes your hands. "I can do that. What do you want to do? What time do you want to meet? What do you want me to wear?"
"First of all, if we're going to do this I'm going to need you to treat me like your bro. Wear what you want, we can meet afternoon and we'll figure it what to do along the way." You think your suggestion is fair yet it's crystal clear that it's not ideal for Jungkook, given the pout on his face.
"I don't want you to be my bro though," he whines.
"We start as bros or we're not hanging out." You're firm because you want this to work but you know yourself, and you need to take this slow.
"No wait, okay. Bro it is. You'll be the prettiest bro of mine."
"Jungkook," you snort, undignified. "That sounds weird."
He shrugs, "I'm weird when I'm with my friends. Especially when they're as pretty as you, it makes me all dumb because I can't seem to think straight anymore."
"Alright Romeo," you say, face flushing. "Save the rest for tomorrow."
<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist
A/N: This was originally going to be three chapters but it will be extended 😶 Lmk what you think and if you wanna to be tagged fill out tag form or ask 💞
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#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#bts angst#bts fluff#bts imagine#bts scenarios#fic:lovesremedyonfire#kookslastbutton
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𝚃𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚔 - 𝙿𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚓𝚘𝚋|𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐|𝙾𝚛𝚊𝚕
𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊
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ft At a Restaurant, Fem!Reader
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Marvel or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors
WC: 1,625
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)
【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】
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Tony has always been adamant that he needs to treat me like a goddess, and that, apparently, entails taking me to fancy restaurants at least once a week. That, and buying me accessories and clothes worth more than my entire hometown, all on a whim. I’ve tried to get him to stop, telling him that I don’t need the actual sapphire necklace Rose wore on the Titanic. Luckily, he’s starting to let up, slowly. In his own way. He’s still buying me presents for seemingly no reason, but they’re actually a reasonable price, now.
Usually, anyway. He insisted on taking me to a fancy restaurant that just opened in an area I never would have expected a Fancy Restaurant to be. He also insisted on buying me an evening gown specifically for the restaurant. I initially asked him why I couldn’t just wear any of the dozens of elegant evening gowns he’s gotten me thus far, and his response was just that this one “needed to be special.”
Now I can see why he specifically chose a dress with double leg slits that each reach up to practically my waist. I can also see, now, why he told me not to bother wearing panties underneath.
Tony’s sitting diagonally behind and beside me, his right arm curled around my body, resting on the booth’s seat just next to my hip. My leg is hooked over his and the front of the gown he’d bought specifically for tonight is laying over my other leg. My pussy is fully exposed to the entire restaurant as Tony plunges his middle and ring fingers in and out of me fast enough that the lewd squelching noise is almost louder than the moans he’s pulling out of me.
Apparently this restaurant is specifically for rich patrons who have an exhibitionism kink. My cheeks almost glow with how red they are, not only because of Tony’s assault on my insides, but because I can feel all the pairs of eyes on us, on me. I can feel so many if the other patrons staring at my dripping cunt as Tony shifts his hand just enough to position his thumb over my clit.
“Fuck, Tony!” I moan out in a high pitched voice when he starts to roughly rub over my sensitive bud and dually licks, sucks, and bites on my neck.
“You feel that, baby? All these people appreciating how fucking gorgeous you are and how spectacular all your noises are.” Tony mutters directly into my ear, his hot breath fanning over me and making my thighs shake.
“Fuck- fuck- yes- yes, yea. Yea, I fuckin’ feel ‘em.” I manage to whine out as he speeds up. His other hand moves to brush feather-light touches over my hip, up over my waist, until finally, he can reach into the strapless top of the dress and pull my tit out. The air is cool enough, despite the heat if sex flying all throughout the air from all the patrons alike, that my nipple pebbles immediately and Tony takes that in stride, palming my breast before squeezing my nipple in the juncture of his fore and middle fingers.
“You’re doing so good, baby, so so fucking good.” Tony presses more kisses to my neck and jaw. “Look up, baby, c’mon.” He prompts me to lift my head from where I have it angled down to watch him thrust in and out of my sopping cunt with low lidded eyes. I look up, as he instructed, and I can see men fucking up into the women accompanying them, some dually working their fingers into another. There are some men closer to us than the rest that are staring lustfully at us, a couple have a woman or two bobbing on their cocks.
Watching the men thoroughly enjoy their company reminds me of my own position. My legs drawn open with my womanhood fully on display with my fiancé’s fingers fully buried inside. My left hand is drawn back and clutching at Tony’s shirt, desperately trying to ground myself from the mind numbing pleasure he’s pounding into me, with just his fingers. My right is clutching on the clear glass table in front of us, my knuckles white as paper.
“F-fuck.. Oh, god, Tony, oh fucking god yes!” I saw a few couples look up at us and most of them continued to watch even as they sped up their own acts of pleasure. “Oh, fuck, yea..” I let out in a high pitched whine, the adrenaline coursing through my veins pumped even harder when I made eye contact with a man sitting parallel to us, fisting the hair of the woman choking on his dick. Looking down, I saw her bouncing on a dildo suctioned to the floor, the moulded balls having the restaurant’s logo printed boldly. The sight made me clench, feeling every part of Tony’s fingers pressed against my walls. The feeling had me nearly screaming as he curled his fingers, pressing directly into my g-spot.
“Fuck, Tony! You really got yourself quite the catch, huh?” One of the servers walked up, shamelessly palming himself through his tight black pants.
“Oh, you know it, Thomas..” Tony smirked, resting his chin on my shoulder as he smugly spoke with the man he, apparently, knew, not once halting his movements. Both his hands continued to pleasure me, his thumb pressing tight, hard circles on my clit while his other hand continuously groped my breast and tweaked my nipple, “Go on and say ‘Hi’ baby, this is an old friend of mine. He’s actually the one that told me about this place. You wanna thank him, sweetheart?” Tony prompted me, smug as ever as he knew I could barely get out his name through my moans.
“H-Hel-lo.. Fuck- Oh god- T-thank you.. Thank you!!” I called out, my back arching when Tony simultaneously curled his fingers into my g-spot, pinched and pulled my nipple, pressed harder against my clit, and sucked right on the most sensitive part of my neck. My orgasm ripped through me, making my vision go white, all my muscles tense up, and cum gush from my pussy.
When he felt my orgasm, Tony immediately began thrusting his fingers again with a new vigor, moving his hand up and down as well as he made me squirt. My fluids landed on the table in front of us, all over the smooth seat, and drenched his hand and part of his sleeve, as well as over parts of our clothing I couldn’t get myself to pay any mind to.
“Oh, fuuuck, baby. Oh that was gorgeous. So. So. Fucking. Gorgeous.” He punctuated each word with sloppy kisses to my neck and hard thrusts into my spent cunt.
“Oh, god, Tony. You really got lucky with her… My wife could never squirt like that..” The man, Thomas, I vaguely remember, ushered in an airy tone and pumped his cock that I haven’t a clue when he’d even pulled it out. He bit his lip and watched as my juices dripped from the seat and table onto the floor, almost looking like he wanted to lick it up.
“Oh, you have no idea, Thomas, no idea.” My fiancé smirked at his friend as he pulled his hand away from my overstimulated folds and began licking his fingers clean. He gave my breast one last squeeze before releasing it and haphazardly sliding my dress back up over it.
Looking away from his friend and cleaning his saliva from his hand on the restaurant’s napkin, he reached his right hand up and turned my head with it to face him. He pressed a loving kiss to my lips as opposed to the lustful, wanton kiss I was expecting, though the lewdness was still present when I could taste myself in his mouth.
“Mind bringing us the check, Thomas? I think my fiancée, here, would prefer we continue at home.” Tony spoke without looking at his friend, too busy looking in my eyes with love that overpowered the wafting of sex and lust around us.
“Sure thing, Tones, and, uh, make sure you give her another good one for me..” Thomas said with a smirk audible in his voice as he zipped himself back up.
As he left and Tony leaned in to press kisses to my cheek and up to my temple, I sighed happily as I chanced another look around the room. There I saw men all around us panting, seemingly from their own release, a few of their women with equally heavy breaths. Some of them, each, were still looking over at us and marveling at the glistening pool of my orgasm still dripping down. A woman bouncing on the man’s dick, she was with, was watching me as she clutched onto his shoulders, his back facing us. She made eye contact with me just as she came and her face as she reached her climax was gorgeous. Her expression sent a new wave of arousal down my spine and made me clench around nothing.
“Are you enjoying being the watcher, too, sweetheart?” Tony asked, smugness clear in his voice as he felt my shiver.
“Yes.. Oh god, yes.. You have to promise me we’ll come back here.” I rolled my head on his shoulder to look at him with a small smile on my swollen lips, both from his heated kisses and how much I was biting my lip to hold back full screams of pleasure. It was then that Thomas returned, a smile both filled with lust and joy at hearing a promise of return.
“Of course, honey. I’m so glad you liked it.” He leaned in and pressed another kiss to my lips.
— — —
𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:
@frosch-thefrog
#tw public sex#tw exhibitionism#cw public sex#cw exhibitionism#tony stark x reader#tony stark smut#marvel x reader#mcu x reader#iron man x reader#wispsimps#spiderlily spells
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Can we get a rough summary of Suns and Moon's reaction to the whole premature rot thing? (Maybe Wind and Innocence too if your feeling creative 0_0)
HEHE WELL…[A drabble + explanations below the cut!]
Suns is initially…very, very angry with Sig specifically. They’re not able to blame Pebbles for this in their head (not yet, at least), and so Sig gets a lot of lectures that usually end in screaming matches…or worse. Suns is actually the one who ends up breaking Sig’s neck, though that’s later in the story and more when he’s gone from being angry to fucking terrified of Sig. With Pebbles…they honestly withdraw from him. They’re afraid to drive him away or hurt him by getting into arguments, but they’re also afraid that Pebbles could convince them that they should infect themself too (and how could Suns say no to him?). Thanks to this empty space left behind by Suns shutting him out, it leads to Pebbles becoming a lot closer to Sig, which in this case is…not a good thing.
Moon’s reaction is mostly shock and horror, and I have a little drabble here of a conversation they have:
Both Pebbles and Sig want Moon and Suns to “join them”, though it’s unclear whether this is them talking or the rot messing with their minds.
Chasing Wind is incredibly close to Sig in my headcanons, being put online only about 50 cycles before Sig was. However, their personalities are essentially the opposite from one another, with Wind being very strict and conservative with how he treats his citizens, and active in their politics and religion. Sig and Pebbles’ actions cause chaos among the Ancient population as a whole, which makes Wind’s citizens even more annoying for him to deal with. He doesn’t particularly blame them for this, but he certainly thinks Sig is honest to god insane for taking such drastic measures. He isn’t all that close with Pebbles but assumes he’s nuts too pfft.
Unparalleled Innocence already didn’t like Five Pebbles from the moment he got put online (nor did she really like Sig either), since she looked up to Moon a lot (and has a gay little crush on her), therefore Sig is a rival bc Moon is already Sig’s partner and Pebbles is just another annoying thing that takes Moon’s attention away from her. She’s angry because she sees it as Pebbles throwing a tantrum or something for attention. She’s not really sympathetic at all, but she is scared that Moon could get hurt because of Sig or Pebbles!
And just to elaborate on Sig n Pebbs’ relationship bc it’s fun: They get a lot closer because of this, though the rot’s hive mind effect might be helping LOL. Unlike in canon, Sig doesn’t actively hate Pebbles like she does post-Moon’s collapse, they mostly just annoy the fuck out of each other. However, Pebbles decides it’s a “necessary evil” to work with Sig since she’s his best bet on actually getting this to work, and he realizes they actually work quite well together? Pebbles also kinda. Well. He gets a liiiittle bit (a lot) of a crush on Sig as time goes on because Suns is kinda out of the picture, and Sig is a very “love language is touch” person. Pebbles fucking HATES asking for affection, but because Sig is always has a hand on his shoulder, or hugs him, or pats his head or something, he doesn’t have to ask! (though he pretends to complain).
TY FOR THE ASK N THANK U FOR LIKING MY SILLY AUUUUU 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
#rain world#rain world downpour#rw sunstone#seven red suns#five pebbles#no significant harassment#rot au#rw#my art#letters#my writing
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Hello I love your work. Could I get a story of Ryoma and Kaden being caught in a magic trap by enemy mage, forcing them to grow larger and larger, making it easier for the enemy to capture them and use them just to stuff them up, thank you
Oh fuck yeah a Ryoma story asbjsbsns. Ryoma was actually my very first summoner support and I treated him with so much care before pushing him to the side with Grima lmao. Though I still love him, I mostly used him in feh cause got lucky with him and he was my best unit back then.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story cause had fun with it and also did like a little like kinda brainwashing. It's what K-ga would've wanted
Warning: This is a fetish story!
The Kitsune Hamlet always a steep, treacherous path to traverse, the tiring journey is at least alleviated from the wondrous landscape with so much of the area left to nature’s own whimsy. Hoshido currently in fall, the browns and oranges of the forest help the kitsune blend into their scenery; even on the main road that is unkept from minimal usage to such a secluded area. No one knows who created the path. Not even the kitsune’s leader, Kaden, the path most likely created by humans who could barely parse left from right on the dense, forested mountain. Despite the narrow, winding path, it is the safest, most secure path up and down the hamlet. The path is also littered with multiple stops along the way to ensure as smooth a travel as possible.
This is not one of those journeys.
Unfortunately for the two descending, Ryoma had decided to follow the advice of Kaden. Surely one as experienced in leaving and returning to Kitsune's Hamlet would know every inch of the land? Wrong; Kaden had gotten the two lost only a dozen feet off the beaten path, and so embarrassed —plus his own ignorance in never truly being aware when it came to directions— over his mistake, Kaden kept quiet over his mistake.
“Hmmm,” Kneeling in front of a large tree, the mature thing far wider and larger than the rest in the area, Ryome sighs as he spots the pebble he left in between the tree’s roots the first time they had passed by it over an hour ago. Ryoma’s face is pensive as he stands up. “Perhaps it would help us if we walked down the mountain at this rate, Kaden,”
“Nah I got this. So what if I got us turned around just a little? I’ll ge-”
Ryoma waits no time in interrupting Kaden, initially hopeful that the kitsune would at least be able to admit his blunder. “This is the third time we have passed this tree. I’ll lead. Or else night will have come and we’ll still be here,”
“Oh come on. I’m sure my tribe wouldn’t mind having you stay another day,” But Kaden follows Ryoma without any other complaints after he looks up through the canopy, the orange hues of the sun’s lowering position in the sky.
With no more side distractions, the two fit men make quick work of the mountain during their descent. They longer have to see the same set of trees and rocks, instead seeing other, equally fascinating sets of trees and rocks. The sounds of running water off in the distance along with the chirping of unseen birds liven the two’s now rather silent trek; the only noise the two make themselves are the crunching of fallen, dead leaves under Ryoma and Kaden’s boots and sandals respectively. The two walk side by side upon Ryoma’s insistence; Kaden always trailing off to scout whatever catches his fancy whenever leading the way and just as easily prone to do the very same when following someone else. Ryoma holds Kaden by the hand, the two’s hands easily and comfortably interlinked with each other. The journey down the mountain goes smoothly at first, all the way until the two reach a flat area of terrain.
Kaden sniffs at the air with his head raised. Ears twitching, his nose scrunches up. “Uh Ryoma? Let’s go this way,” Pointing with his unoccupied right hand slightly back where they came from, Kaden takes one confident step to where he pointed.
He doesn’t budge at all from his spot.
“We’ll get lost again,” Ryoma shakes his head. Though he holds zero irritation in his demeanor, instead finding Kaden’s cluelessness rather cute. “Just trust me, okay?” Ryoma keeps his pace, considering the matter resolved.
Kaden keeps sniffing the air as they hike down the mountain. The strange odor he smelled earlier fades away as they walk away. Eventually, the stench is nearly gone, nothing more than a faint far off smell. But still, the sensation stays in Kaden’s mind; the stench nowhere near as pungent as anything else, the odor still felt awful, as if something man made. Which shouldn’t be the case when the two of them should be the only ones on the mountain beside his tribe.
Kaden’s tail stiffens after a few more paces. Unable to smell anything, he instead feels it; the very same sensation reaching and grasping him.
“Are you okay? Perhaps I can stay another night with you in your hamlet. You don’t seem well,” Ryoma presses the palm of his hand to Kaden’s forehead. He stops himself from recoiling, but the shock is still evident on his face, Kaden's flushed face burning up out of nowhere.
Kaden’s gut gurgles. Clutching his stomach, Kaden winces. “Magic…”
“Kaden!” Ryoma grabs Kaden by the shoulders; he keeps him steady, as if Kaden were to fall at any instant —which he might if Kaden's sudden, pained groans are any indication. Ready to rush him back, the adrenaline in Ryoma's body vanishes as an extra bit of flab appears on Kaden's new little belly. At least, he blames his shock on his sluggish, tired state. But in reality, the magic takes hold on him, the immaterial essence snaking its entire potential on the human. Ryoma's eyes are clenched shut. A pit of burning flames envelops his entire gut. He falls to his knees not long after the spell starts, arms clutching his flat stomach. Able to still hear Kaden's much less pained moans, Ryoma's attention quickly shifts over to himself as he hears his own stomach churn and groan, from discomfort and hunger alike.
Having forgone his armor, the heavy, plated metal useless in what should've been a peaceful visit, the jutting curve of his stomach that lurches forward is met with little resistance with only the soft, silken fabric of his shirt to inhibit its growth. Ryoma's abdomen broadens, a generous layer of flab protruding where moderately defined abs used to be. The doughy crest of flab protrudes from his shirt, the lowest roll of belly fat sneaking past the fabric now. Likewise, his chest fills out generously. Ryoma's pecs lose any semblance of definition to them; instead, two hefty breasts replace them, both tits slowly filling out his shirt as the magic's hold on him strengthens. Ryoma's body is not the only aspect of him to be affected, his entire being being rejected by the spell.
Kaden suffers much less than his companion. The spell clearly meant for kitsunes, the already potent magic is like a steady flow of water compared to the crashing torrent of waves Ryoma faces with kitsunes much more resistant to spells. His body slowly fills out. His defined chest gains some extra heft to it, the rounded out set of breasts pressing up against the plunging neckline of his half tied top. His arms fill out the tight fit of his sleeves; two flabby biceps stretch out the barely stretchable fabric. Kaden's pants made of the same material, the legging-like lower apparel outlines the blubbery pair of thighs that continue to widen and enlarge with fat. The spell affecting Kaden less, the magical transformation also affects his body differently. Kaden's lower half takes on a larger brunt of the weight. His pants try their hardest to stay on him, the fabric already near its final use only partly through his growth. Kaden still fattening up, the magic begins to ease on him, the later stages of his expansion much less painful now. He takes deep breaths as he feels his body no longer clamp up as before. Loosening his grip, Kaden doesn’t bother to inspect himself —a sight of clothes straining and beginning to tear from covering too big a body— in favor of glancing at Ryoma who is still on the floor.
Ryoma is now lying on his back, the large dome of his belly jutting and rising up into the sky. His hands clench his aching head, loose strands of his thick brown hair escaping between his pudgy fingers. Ryoma is already at least a hundred pounds heavier compared to Kaden’s form, and still growing, the shirt that now serves as a bra that only grows tighter around his swelling form proof of his ongoing fattening.
“R-ryoma!” Kaden waddles over to him. His ass jostles behind him, the burgeoning fat ass straining his pants to their very limit. His gut shakes likewise. His top is still held together by a tied sash that is no longer as loose as before. The thin strip of fabric presses into his gut and nearly splits his belly fat into two separate bulging sections. Kaden kneels beside him. The tearing of fabric seems to echo in the forest, the back of his pants ripping right down the very center. Despite the blush on his face, Kaden tries to pay not much attention to it; instead, he places both of his hands on the upper swelling mass of lard that makes up Ryoma’s gut. Kaden’s ears curl ever so slightly as Ryoma looks at him, the king’s pupils dilated.
“Hrghh-who?” Ryoma shouts at the stranger. “My head,,,” Ryoma grits his teeth as he tries to get up, the buzzing of his head slowly losing its vigor but still remaining with a monotone ache in the very back of his mind, not too dissimilar from the crackle of energy Raijinto buzzes with when unsheathed. “My head hurts,”
Kaden immediately goes to help him up. “Ryoma, it’s me, Kaden,” He points to himself, placing both his hands on his pudgy chest that still swells out before wrapping an arm behind Ryoma’s back —an arm that barely manages to make the distance across such a wide, flabby back. “We have to get you back to Hoshido and return you back to normal. I’m sure your retainers and everyone else will be worried to see their king like this. And I’m sure they’ll kill me when they see you,” Kaden murmurs the last sentence to himself, smiling at his companion as he helps him up.
“Hoshido,,,” Ryoma blinks, furiously opening and shutting his eyes. The beautiful capital and its castle in his mind, the clear image grows hazier with each subsequent vision. His own mental depiction of himself blurs as well, the adept warrior replaced with nothing more than a glutton. “Lies! A king couldn’t be this fat,” Ryoma’s breath quickens. Like a heat flash, his face is marred with perspiration. Ryoma still grows and widens out and his mental depiction of himself does the same. Quickly blowing up from an already obese state, Ryoma becomes even fatter; his entire figure becomes caked in fat, the hefty portions of lard quickly slathered onto his frame like clay on a pot.
“Then tell me, Ryoma, what could you possibly be if not king?” Kaden challenges back. Helping Ryoma waddle, the two’s attempts are laughable. Both of them struggling from their own weight, the limited space from the two obese men make it even more difficult with two large sloshing bellies slapping against one another. Ryoma’s much larger gut sags further down, the slab of lard reaching all the way to just above his over swollen knees. Kaden’s ass the largest aspect of him, Ryoma still beats him in size from the sheer difference between the two; the two blubbery asses that are no longer fit for chair are pressed against each other, the sides of their rears, squishing.
Ryoma thinks long and hard over the question. And yet, he comes up just as empty as his thunderous gut. Until a figure pops into his brain, another heavyset individual not quite as large as himself. “All I know is you,” Ryoma admits, able to still remember Kaden from being with him during his sudden change. Kaden remains the only constant in Ryoma’s head as the two swell out.
“That’s a start! Just trust me and I’ll get us out of this predicament,” Kaden’s tail swishes behind him. The fluffy tail seems much smaller now compared to his widened, obese figure. So elated by Ryoma’s response, Kaden pays little attention to his companion. Instead, he focuses on getting the two back to his hamlet first and to figure out the rest later and not on the walk that continuously grows harder as they grow softer.
Ryoma on the last legs of the curse, his groaning stomach gurgles even louder. The grumbling begins to sound out even more often, the noise eventually becoming constant. He speaks to himself all the while, muttering to himself about Hoshido and being king. He even nods along to Kaden who speaks to him about such things. And yet, the words still feel foreign to him, his memories unable to conjure up anything about such fairy tales of ideas.
*Guuuurgle*
Ryoma’s stomach sounds out one last noise for more than a minute. Suddenly ravenous, his gut yearns for food as his figure crests to its final weight. His body practically surging in fat, Ryoma finds himself extremely taxed just from standing. Ryoma morbidly obese, his enormous gut is the largest aspect of himself. The massive wobbling gut sags past his crotch, far past his crotch. The lowest heft of belly fat manages to sag even past his knees now, his knees burdened by a roll of thigh fat that lurches onto it to limit the flexibility of the limbs. His pants are in complete tatters now, strips of fabric that only remains on him by managing to wedge themselves in between the jutting, folding rolls of flab that make up his meaty tree trunk sized thighs. His cankles so caked in fat, the circular roll of flab that encases them sags onto his feet; the fattened limbs wobble like the rest of him. Ryoma’s ass juts behind him. The two enormously sized ass cheeks sag behind him with not enough support for them. Each cheek rivals his former size, the fattened Ryoma able to smother his former lithe size with his rear —not that he can even picture himself so, such a thing nothing but a figment of imagination. Ryoma’s breasts free, the two breasts splay to the side. Even as he stands, the two breasts rest on Ryoma’s jutting love handles, the upper set, Ryoma fat enough to have two sets now. Ryoma’s arms are two hams for biceps, the overly coated in flab arms pressing against his plush set of breasts even as they are forced at an angle from his size. His moobs are larger than any person’s biceps, the two meaty breasts also larger than his own flabby head. Ryoma’s flabby porcine cheeks soften his once angular appearance. His third chin gives the same effect along with his less visible neck that is taken over by flabby neck rolls.
Despite his size, Ryoma still walks. Huffing, his face turns a bright red from exertion. Clearly on the last vestiges of mobility, he does his best to appease his friend, the cheery obese kitsune, the only person he can trust. And like a tome, his memories seem to open themselves to him, Ryoma remembering his past. Ryoma remembers it all. He remembers living with Kaden, the two simply gorging themselves each and every day. The two enjoying each other’s company with only good food and wine, everything else is still a haze to Ryoma, each location nothing more than the barest nondescript location he can’t even place a name to. Ryoma begins to grope his breast with his free hand, the sausage for fingers slowly reaching lower to fondle the parts of his stomach that he can still reach.
“I remember, now,” Ryoma comes crashing to the floor after his slow declaration. His fat pools all around him, his gut rests on top of his enormous thighs. His enormity shakes from the purposeful fall. He enjoys his break, rewarding himself with deep breaths.
“Ugh that’s great but,,,” Kaden arches his back and fans himself. Now free from supporting Ryoma’s weight, he still has to contest with his own. Kaden is practically a miniature, thinner version of Ryoma. At most three hundred pounds less than the barely mobile Ryoma that can probably no longer walk without help, Kaden is still a rather rotund, shapely figure. His stomach large enough to droop just about to his crotch, the pale pudgy belly just not far enough to where the lower portion of Kaden’s fat pad is visible. Kaden’s entire lower half is naked. His non-stretch pants unable to withstand the weight long ago, Kaden’s thick thighs are on full display. The shapely legs are even wider than his own gut with Kaden rather bottom heavy. So much weight down there makes it difficult for Kaden to waddle. Especially with his large ass that sports more folds of flab than his gut did a hundred or two pounds back. Kaden’s chest is also rather large, the two moobs obscenely filled with fat; the two breasts are almost a third of the size of his gut, the two large breasts almost the size of Ryoma’s own fat tits. His arms rather large, the two undersides of his appendages sport a hefty coating of flab that sag whenever he lifts the two large, fatty biceps.
Kaden takes large refreshing gulps of air as he catches his breath. “We gotta get back to the hamlet first and then figure out way to Hoshido,”
“We don’t live there. We live together. And we missed our meal together. I’m so hungry,” As if to punctuate his whine, Ryoma’s stomach churns, the sound even managing to make Kaden wince from its guttural sound.
“Oh no no no no,” With wide eyes, Kaden goes to try and pick up Ryoma. But no matter how much he tries, the obese kitsune is far too tired to pick up the even fatter human. And so, Kaden takes a seat himself to catch his breath. He rests against Ryoma, using him like a large boulder. A much softer boulder, Kaden nearly draping himself on his gut. “Tell me what you remember,”
Ryoma smiles from Kaden’s embrace; the sensation is familiar to him, like something they’ve always done according to his memories. “We live together and eat as much as we please. And we haven’t eaten since our second lunch,” He hums to himself at the thought of food, rubbing his gut with both hands over indulging on a heavy course of dinner to make up for lost time,”
Kaden sighs. Deciding to sort whatever is going on with Ryoma later, he only nods to his statement in favor of saving his energy for getting back to the hamlet.
“If it’s food you want, we can help you,”
Kaden sharply turns his head. Nothing in his sight, he struggles to get himself in a standing position.
“Mmmphh phhmm,”
“Ryoma!” Kaden still getting up, he panics when he hears Ryoma grunt. Taking a step away from him and turning around, he rests a hand on his love handle as he catches his breath.
Ryoma greedily devours the cooked ham he now holds in his hands, the sweet glaze that drips down the still warm meat coating his pudgy face. His massive arms practically embrace his head while he eats the best that he can. And beside Ryoma are a group of mages, the men sneering at their prey with an entire carriage behind them.
“I-” Scrambling for his beast stone, Kaden doesn’t even question when he finds it stored underneath his right boob. He channels the stored energy only to find himself still staring at the mages in his same form, Kaden now too fat to properly transform.
“Don’t even bother trying anything,” Clearly the leader of the group —if the size of his muscles and stature are any indication, the mage laughs as he approaches Kaden. “We were only expecting Kitsune but I’m sure our buyer will enjoy taking such a fine specimen as well,” He cocks his head toward Ryoma. The barely mobile amnesiac is already walking with the other men who support him. Ryoma still eats the large ham all the while. They push him onto the carriage, several of them grabbing him by the ass just to get him on it. And the carriage tilts afterwards while he happily eats to his heart's content with more food waiting him.
“What are you doing with Ryoma?” Kaden realizes his mistake immediately after saying his name.
Each and every bandit stares at the obese Ryoma. “Buuurrrp!” Is all Ryoma responds with before digging into more of the pile of food.
“No king would act like that!”
“You idiot, so many damned parent gave their kids that damned name after the king was born,”
“Damn he can pack it away,”
The entire group of bandits persuaded from Ryoma’s own lack of knowledge, they each go back into preparing themselves for the journey back.
“Now, how ‘bout you join your friend and make this nice and easy for me. I’ve already got a freak of a buyer who’d gladly want you. And the nicer you start behaving,” The mage stands right up next to Kaden, grabbing his belly and slapping it. “I’m sure the better I’ll be able to sell your buddy along with you,”
“Kaden,,,” Ryoma wheezes out in the distance, completely oblivious to the situation as long as he has food in front of him. “The food’sh sho goood, come oon,” Going back to gorging, Ryoma practically begs from the distance.
Seeing little chance to escape by himself and absolutely none together, Kaden makes his decision, definitely unwilling to let Ryoma be by himself. “I’ll go with you,” He compliantly walks himself to the carriage and ignores the group of men who slap his ass as he walks past them.
As soon as he takes a seat —the carriage tipping even more with their combined weight— the entire group of bandits immediately hit the road with their new cargo left alone. Neither of them are even tied up with both of them so fat to even properly escape now. Kaden sulks to himself. At least until something pushes him over and knocks the wind out of him, a boulder seemingly crushing him.
The boulder far softer than an actual one, Ryoma peers down at Kaden the best he can with both their fat getting in the way. “Have shome food,” Still eating away —Ryoma now eating kebabs from the bandits surprisingly well stocked stash for their fatties— Ryoma stuffs Kaden’s mouth with jerky. Despite the experience being new to him, Ryoma does both without a hassle, even fondling and groping Kaden’s chest in between feeding himself.
Kaden forced onto the floor, he merely submits himself with nothing to do against the situation. Especially when he finds the complaints in the back of his throat dying down, returning Ryoma’s own grabs with equal enjoyment.
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Okay so I made a comic about NSH and hunter the other day that you can read HERE. And the positive response to that comic has been great thank you guys! But I think people are missing the point of the comic- and to be fair it isn't perfectly articulated in the short 3 pages comic so I'm going to write it here:
A lot of people have summed up the comic to "NSH is a dick. Horrible person. Why would he do that to hunter" and though I see that perspective allow me to elaborate.
My favorite writing trope is when two character both represent different opposing view points to push the themes of the story. These two characters are both representative of opposite views and how the writing punishes them or elevates them in the narrative shows the writers intent. A good example of this in rain world itself is 5 pebbles and looks to the moon.
But this isn't about them. I'd like to argue there is a second duo of characters that also uses this writing trope. That of seven red suns and no significant harassment. The way they both react to seeing their friends slowly but surely kill themselves is sad to see- and is the real highlight of downpour for me. But I feel like, specifically NSH, could have been pushed more to be less of a plot device and more of a character who continues to push the themes of the story.
That's where my headcanon/ almost canon but not entirely canon, comes into play. It's no secret that the iterators have a lot of mixed emotions when it comes to their creators and how they where treated. And though I do love the emotional beats it does hit with this… I wish there was more. And there's a great opportunity for it laying right at the foot of rain world.
Both SRS and NSH are amazing bio engineers- making purposed organisms that are powerful enough to survive long messenger requests from them. That of Hunter and Spearmaster. And the way the story plays out for both of these genetic monstrosities (/pos) can actually tell you a lot about their creators if you go with my headcanon/theory. SRS through spearmasters campaign comes to like the little freak and brings it home- presumably it lives out the rest of it's days in peace. NSH on the other hand doesn't even consider for a second wanting it back or even caring for the creature- we can see he finds the idea of even caring about these creatures as laughable thought him and SRS' broadcasts.
And where did he get that carelessness about his purposed organisms then from the ancients (his parents) themselves. I'm sure not every ancient is terrible but the ones that designed their calculator gods surely didn't have the iterators best interest in mind. And then they all abandoned them without even an explanation (at least that's the perspective the iterators have). and in a sense to me, spearmaster and hunter are the children of NSH and SRS. Except SRS decided to stop the cycle and NSH perpetuated it.
It gives an interesting take on the cycle of abuse theme in writing. Where the one perpetuating it- NSH- we can tell isn't a horrible person. But is just doing as he was taught and told. I don't think it's perfect per say, I think it could use a bit more polish. But I like it.
That's why the end of my comic goes "its a purposed organism is it not". He too is a purposed organism. He's eternalized this all and doesn't even know it. And it gives him the much needed depth that my brain hungers for.
ANYWAYS THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK-
#Meat talks#rain world#I have so many thoughts I could go on for hours#I didn't even get to get into hunter at all#like in hunter's ending all hunter can think of is their creator#which is sadder if you go with this angle because NSH essentially set it up to die#even though all hunter wants is to go home#hrrgr hrrgrgrggrgrg
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I’m going to put these on their own post just so I can get my thoughts in order first. Starting of course with the Siblings and their Slugcats... if the heights are inconsistent, please I’m aware... One of the curses I think... Anyway so what can I say-- A lot actually, but I don’t want to say everything.
So I’ll just kind of, list it as I take it.
I am a firm believer in short Pebbles, short all of the iterators actually. Which speaking of, they are child sized. Going by that one theory that Slugcats are around 3’-ish. Which I do adore, I love it so much because I-- I like characters who’re small and thus have to deal with the issues that comes from been smol, as well the blessings of that shorter height. I mean seriously, look back at my roleplaying days-- my Main Muse was a 3’1/95cm tall child who got into EVERYTHING, but that’s not the point of this.
This was initially a picture I was drawing just as a reference, but I think I’m just going to use whatever height charts I make for those in the end... so instead this is more like a sheet of Misc headcanons/thoughts.
Straight up at the front, listing off heights. Artificer shares the same thing that sends me about NSH with LTTM’s height difference, 1cm turns into a whole inch of difference. And then Ruffles/Rivulet is smaller and faster. Pebbles meanwhile just smol-- ALSO THE MARKINGS. I have come to a conclusion and Pebbles and Moon’s markings and how they go together and that conclusion is phases of the Moon. I also love the idea that they match clothing wise... and the deeper issues with Pebbles basically only been given hand me downs.
Hand me down citizens, hand me down clothes... Vague ideas he’s built to the west of Moon, so also literally in her shadow when the sun rises...
BUT also on that, I suppose lets go to those little picture snippets huh. So first off, I love the idea of iterators giving out marks/gifts to Slugcats they claim. Artificer is Pebbles’ citizen as much as he’s her “angry pink baby”. With one extra headcanon--
When I first fell into drawing Rain World fanart I also done up this quick sheet. Nothing here is really relevant because it was mostly me just getting some thoughts in order. BUT-- I have a half joking headcanon that Pebbles is colourblind thanks to a mod with unfixed dialogue. Which you can see in my timeline/headcanon scribbles as well. SPECIFICALLY. I play around as if Pebbles has protanopia.
Which ye, he has even more strive for independence from Moon as result. ALSO, As a funny thing, this will be used as an excuse for a fic at some point for him to send Artificer off to NSH and go “You’ll know her when you see her, she’s you coloured!”-- she is empathetically not. Same as her Scarf is not the same colour as Pebbles like he thinks it is in that first picture.
I have... a lot to say regarding that one spoiler picture with Ruffles and campaign specific event. But the issue with that is it would take a lot of words and some explanations that even likely go cross-fandom. I just have one thing I will say right here.
People need to learn how to hear/see unspoken apologies. Apologies through actions and not words... But I’ll save that for when I actually get my thoughts together for all the fandoms it’s relevant to. So maybe... hopefully one day I’ll get to that.
Kind of wish I had more to say about the Slugcats here, but uhhh-- don't really have much, at least not this second. Not beyond the obvious... Although I do have a WIP time-travel fic with Riv and Moon that goes with another half-joke headcanon... will I explain that, no, because that's currently one paragraph of a story that I don't even know will be written more or not.
#Rain World#THybrid Art#Five Pebbles RW#The Artificer RW#Looks To The Moon RW#The Rivulet RW#Five Pebbles has issues and I would write a novel on them#These two are relatable sibling messes#I am both and neither of these characters#No I will not explain.#THybrid Iterates
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There can never be too many roses, my friend XD
~~~
Tommy doesn't like all the same things that Ghostbur likes. Ghostbur likes clouds, and Tommy likes stars. Ghostbur likes blue, and Tommy likes red. Ghostbur likes soft grass and delicate flowers, and Tommy likes dirt and dandelions. They're actually quite different from each other, which is why Ghostbur decided to make a list; he didn't want to accidentally bring Tommy things that he didn't like, such as forget-me-nots or a sweater. Those are things that Ghostbur likes, not Tommy.
~~~
Ghostbur walks along the dirt path littered with leaves and acorns, and every couple steps he comes across a twig or a large pebble. He doesn't kick those, like other people would have; they're not bothering anybody, and Ghostbur can't help but feel a little cruel about the idea of slamming his boot into them. He'll leave them be, just as they are. He feels much better about that idea.
~~~
Tommy goes quiet for a second or two. "This isn't a vacation, Ghostbur. And that's not me being a pessimist."
Ghostbur turns to glance at him, eyes narrowed doubtfully. "But Dream said it was a vacation."
"Yeah, well Dream is a liar. He also wears a green hoodie."
"I like his green hoodie."
"It's ugly."
"I like it."
"It's so ugly."
Ghostbur purses his lips, turning back to the beach. "Oh."
"It's uglier than baby frogs. Have you ever seen baby frogs, Ghostbur?"
"Tadpoles? Oh yes, I've seen lots of those!"
"Huh. Well, Dream's hoodie is uglier than them. Just so you know."
"Okay!"
~~~
After a minute, Niki walks slowly forward, closing the short distance between them. She reaches her hand out, gently resting her hand on Wilbur's shoulder. It's delicate. It's agonizing. He doesn't want her here.
Wilbur leans a little more towards her touch. Niki's breath catches. "Wil."
~~~
Wilbur brightens, eyes widening. "Yeah! Every time I get bigger, my heart will get bigger, which means that I can fit more love inside it! That means that the bigger I get, and the bigger you get, the more I'll love you!"
~~~
Wilbur grins. "Niki Nihachu, I crave adventure."
~~~
"Tommy, please shut up." Wilbur comes to a halt, turning around. Tommy stalks forward, stumbling through the heavy snow. His facial expression is one of utter misery. "Look, I'll wait for you to catch up, but then you need to walk with me, okay? Keep pace with your big brother Wilbur."
Tommy scowls. "I thought you said that made you cry."
"What made me cry?"
"Saying you're my brother."
Wilbur pauses. He wipes at his nose with his glove. "Well, when you say it. When I say it it's fine."
Tommy grumbles. "I hate you."
"Come on, Tommy. Hurry up, come on! You can do it!"
~~~
Tommy stares down at his feet. He never wears socks to bed, because only a complete idiot would do that, or perhaps someone who's really cold and insecure. Tommy's the opposite: he's warm and solid, like a statue except more colorful.
~~~
Charlie gasps. "Oh yes, I remember that room, Quackity! There's a lot of buttons in there!"
Wilbur swears under his breath, but Quackity doesn't pay him any mind. "Yes, you're- that's right, there are a lot of buttons in there, but listen—do not press any buttons unless I tell you to."
"Aw man. I wanted to press a button, Quackity."
"Do not press any buttons."
Charlie heaves a sigh. "Oh, alright."
~~~
Tommy brings the mug to his lips, tipping it ever so slightly—it's filled to the brim, so tilting it even a bit more would cause it to spill—and letting the warm drink fill his mouth. Warm... more like hot. Really hot. So hot that it burns his tongue a little bit, which hurts but not enough to feel bad. It's a good hurt. A better hurt than on Exile, at least. None of those hurts were ever good, because everything was cold and cold hurts are never fun.
Warm hurts are good, though. Tommy swallows the tea and takes another tiny sip.
~~~
Before Wilbur can respond, she blinks, looking up at him. "He would buy me stuffed animals a lot, but pretty much only bunnies. Do you know what bunnies are?"
"Bun- rabbits? Yes, I know what they are." Wilbur takes another inhale of cigarette smoke, resisting the urge to narrow his eyes. What sort of person doesn't know what rabbits are?
"Oh. You looked like the kind of person who doesn't know a lot about animals." The girl sighs deeply. "I guess I was wrong."
This time it's Wilbur's turn to stare. "Wh-"
~~~
Instead, he wipes his face with his arm, smearing away any unshed tears gathered in his eyes. His sweater is warm. That's nice. Ghostbur brings his other arm up, burying his nose into the yellow wool and breathing in the scent. In and out. It smells like a forest, and sheep, and something slightly sweet. It smells very nice.
Ghostbur doesn't want to cry anymore.
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The one about Y/n and her Stuffie
Based Off Of This Ask
And This One
This One Too
A/N: ITS BEEN OVER A FUCKING MONTH SINCE I LAST POSTEDDDD…but I’m backkkk🤪🥳😙😌it’s not the fic i originally planned on doing for my next piece, but since I’m currently in the middle of everything in my life rn, and this plot doesn’t have to be extremely thought out, i figured i’d do a hot lil fic for y’all. Enjoyy girliess...i hope it doesn't suckk🙃
When Harry came upstairs, he was expecting you to be doing just about anything besides what you were actually doing. As soon as he stepped foot into the doorway of the bedroom, Harry was stopped right in his tracks, completely focused on you, and beyond stunned at the sight in front of him. You were down to a tight little t-shirt and a little pair of panties, and you were humping one of the cute little stuffies he’d bought for you some time ago. You had your legs spread wide over the toy and both of your hands planted on the bed in front of you as you messily dug your cunt into the stuffed toy. Harry intently watched and listened as you tried to relieve yourself. He relished in the sounds of your desperate whines and moans, taking in all of your cries for daddy and how your pussy was in need of and completely throbbing for him. From where he was standing, Harry could clearly see how you were moving against the stuffed toy. You never let up with your movements, continuously digging your needy pussy into the stuffie. You were really intent on digging your clit into it and making sure to rub against the raised parts of the toy to get the most pleasure. And when you rubbed yourself just right, you’d go into a complete frenzy, trying to recreate and feel that exact feeling over and over again.
As Harry stood there, not only could he not stop himself from pushing a hand into his pants to squeeze at his cock, Harry also had the inability to stop his mind from wandering and conjuring up all the things he could do to you in the position you were in. For starters, Harry could just picture himself coming up from behind you and pushing you down onto your front before tossing the stuffie away and replacing it with his cock. If he did that, Harry was certain that you’d have the loudest and prettiest screams and moans from being suddenly manhandled and from the sudden and intense pleasure. Harry also dreamt of you thrashing back and forth against his cock. Once you’re all done fighting with his cock and you’ve finally gotten all of him into that tight little entrance of yours, Harry could vividly picture you moving against him in the same way you’re moving against the stuffed toy. You’d have your hands planted on his chest and you’d be trying to get into a rhythm but you’d be quickly overcome by the pleasure and you’d just do whatever would give you the most pleasure. The vivid visuals of you moving on his cock are accompanied by the picture of your tits bouncing in front of his face. And the fact that he could see your pebbled nipples through your shirt only made the visual that much better. Those were just two of the many filth ridden thoughts that roamed Harry’s mind as he watched you. And with each and every one of these scenarios, while all being different from the last, you were gushing in no time, making a complete and very wet mess on the bed at the end of every one of them.
Eventually, after a while of silently stalking you from across the room, Harry finally (and kind of begrudgingly) pulls his hand from his pants and makes his way over to the side of the bed where you were. He then brings a hand up to softly caress your cheek, to which you slightly jump from the sudden company.
“What are you doing puppy?” He softly asks, watching as you continue to hump the stuffie between your legs.
“I can’t help it daddy! My clit hurts so good!” You pitifully slur, your eyes remaining snapped shut as you continue to move against the toy.
“Want daddy to make it stop hurting and feel good sweet girl?” Harry asks sweetly, continuing to stroke your cheek and watch you dig your clit into the stuffie, noticing you still had the jewel plug in from earlier in the day.
“Please daddy! You can do anything you want just- m’throbbing so bad!” You whine in response, opening your eyes for the first time in Harry’s direction. Your eyes were all watery and he could see how bad you needed him and how subby you were feeling.
Without wasting anymore time, Harry swiftly maneuvers you both onto the bed. He pulls you down onto your back, completely abandoning the stuffie, before removing the little bit of clothes you had on from your body. He then proceeds to undress himself, practically ripping his clothes off before climbing between your legs. As soon as he does this, his attention shoots down between your legs to see what he was working with.
“Aww look, your little cunt is all swollen and sticky.” He coos, admiring how swollen and dripping you were for him. “So desperate; how pathetic.” He chuckles, bringing his hand down to pinch your puffy pussy lips between his index and thumb, getting his fingers covered in your juices. “What made you so needy baby?” Harry asks, keeping your pinched between his fingers as he lowers himself down between your legs.
“Just-“ You softly sigh, not wanting to give him the real, and slightly embarrassing answer.
“Just what?” He presses before bringing his mouth in and sticking his tongue out to lap up the juices that were spilling from the part where your two lips met. When he does this, you immediately try and snap your legs shut. But Harry stops you right in your tracks. “Close them and you won’t cum.” Harry simply, yet sternly replies, causing you to open your legs back up. “Good girl. But if you don’t answer, you won’t cum or get my cock.” Harry continues on.
“But daddy!” You whine, trying to get out of revealing why you were humping the stuffie not too long ago.
“If you wanna cum, you better tell me. Or I could just suck on your swollen little button until you cry then jerk off right in front of you. It’s completely up to you.” You couldn’t argue with that ultimatum. In the state that you were in, the simple thought of not being able to cum made your eyes well up a little.
“Fine…I was thinking about how good it felt when you took me after you pushed my princess plug in earlier.” You manage to finally spit out, struggling to do so from the way Harry kept squeezing your lips together.
“So all of this is because my baby is a little cockslut.” Harry cockily relishes with a wide smirk spread across his face. “That makes it even better.” Harry hums before suckling on your clit. You didn’t even have the time to scream from how good his mouth felt because it only lasts a couple seconds before he’s letting go of your pussy lips and removing his mouth, moving himself back up your body. Stopping on the way up to sponge wet kisses onto your already pebbled nipples. Harry then attaches his lips to yours, trapping them into a sloppy, lust filled kiss. You let Harry do most of the work, keeping your mouth open and moving your lips against his. As he kissed you, you could hear Harry’s shaky breaths and moans, and you could feel him rutting his cock against your sticky cunt. This only made you need him more than you already did. You wanted to move around and try and push him inside, but Harry had you trapped pretty good. All you could do was move your head around a bit. So that’s what you did, you moved your head to the side, causing Harry’s mouth to break away from yours.
“Need you daddy!” You beg, wrapping your hand around Harry’s bicep that was right by your head.
“Y’always needing me, you’re my little cockslut remember?” Harry coos into your ear, using his other hand to blindly line himself up with your soaking entrance. “All you can think about is me splitting your little pussy apart to fit all of my cock in there.” Harry begins, bringing his hips in to start filling you up. “All you can think about is being pounded until I’m done using your pathetic little hole.” Harry grunts into your ear, bringing the other arm up to rest against the bed near your head. “I bet you like feeling completely powerless when I’m fucking into you.” Harry groans, feeling your tight walls around him as he practically pries them apart with his large cock. As Harry speaks and fills you up, you’re losing your mind below him. Not only are you losing the ability to even think, you’re also feeling and relishing in the pleasurable sting that came along with Harry’s cock and the full feeling that came along with it as well. On top of feeling incredibly needy, you were feeling subby as well, which only intensified the feeling and caused you to use your stuffie. All you could do was dig your nails into his biceps that were almost cradling your head and whimper as Harry made sure you felt everything he gave you.
Once he’s fully inside, Harry goes right into pounding you. And he doesn’t let up. He continuously slams his hips down into yours, pushing his cock all the way up inside of you again and again. With every thrust, there was a flick to your clit. He’d always come down, in, and up, causing you to feel everything inside and out. On top of all that, Harry had his mouth right up to your ear and you could hear his beyond animalistic growls. He kept asking you ‘Is this what you wanted?’ and he kept telling you how good of a fuck and cockslut you were and that he loved destroying you.
Harry was on cloud nine to say the least. He had worked himself up enough leading up to this moment that he could be cumming any second now. But he decided to hold off a little longer. Not only were your insides, your perfect little walls feeling even more amazing, but he was enjoying being able to fuck you like this, all rough and filthy while you were feeling all small and subby. When you were like this, Harry would go on a bit of a power trip and just degrade you and fuck you any which way he wanted. And on top of that, he got to hear your whimpers and cries from how good it all felt in the process. With the position he had you two in, the same way his growls were clear in your ears, Harry’s able to clearly hear your cries and whimpers from how good it all felt. Harry thought your loopy moans and whimpers were music to his ears. He even heard you call yourself daddy’s cockslut, which only made him go even harder on your pussy.
“Please daddy! I need t’cum!” You whimper, holding on to his biceps for dear life as young for him to let you finally cum. Even though you weren’t being that good of a girl earlier when you were using the stuffie, you didn’t cum, which is a big rule of Harry’s, especially when you haven’t gotten permission. So you’d been holding this release for a long time now and you were dying to just let go already!
“Awww, does my baby’s pathetic little pussy need to cum around daddy’s big cock.” Harry coos patronizingly, continuing his never ending thrusts.
“Can’t hold it anymore daddy!” You cry, beginning to squirm underneath his tight grip from how much this orgasm was consuming you.
“Go ahead doll, show me how much of a little cockwhore you are for daddy.” Harry pants into your ear before lifting himself up from on top of you, stopping to spit down into your mouth as he sits up. Harry then begins to feel your walls rapidly pulsating and convulsing around his cock. And to follow up, a warm stream of your juices begin to gush out of you, getting Harry and the sheets wet. But you were too busy feeling absolutely amazing to even care. Harry was in awe at how much you were squirting and he thought you looked absolutely adorable as you came around him. He also felt very riled up and anxious to have a similar release of his own.
Once he feels like he’s given you enough time to ride the seismic waves of your release, Harry dives right back in, not skipping a beat with his intense thrusts.
“Can’t anymore daddy!” You cry out to him, trying your hardest to close your legs around him and push his body away from between your legs as you were just coming down from your first high and were already feeling another powerful release quickly building inside the kind of sore pit of of your stomach.
“But you said you wanted it doll.” Harry reminds through his teeth as he pries your legs back apart. “You were so caught up in being a little cockslut you forgot about what you agreed to.” Harry chuckles down at you. He resumes his thrusts and then proceeds to slap your clit a couple of times, causing you to have mini releases, squirting onto him back to back with every slap he delivered to your clit. “Messy little slut aren’t you. Look at how much you squirt when I destroy your pussy.” Harry moans, continuing to deliver a couple more sting filled slaps to your oh so sensitive button, garnering a few more screams and squirts of your warm juices to his lower body.
Harry then flips you onto your front, to which he pushes your legs apart a little more before sitting on top of them to keep you down before wrapping his hands around your hips and plunging back into you. You were already worn out so he didn’t exactly have to pin you down. As he fucks into you, Harry can feel his overwhelming release beginning to overtake all of his senses in the exact same way yours did. He began to feel even more pressure in the pit of his stomach as his impending release mounted and mounted, waiting to be released.
When he’s just a mere minutes away from his release, Harry lays himself down on your back, keeping his mouth close to your ear as he sloppily delivers his final thrusts. You could feel him sucking on the area right below your ear as he reached the hilt of his release.
“And if there has to be one thing I love most about having you as my needy little cockslut, it’d have to be the fact you keep my cum all save and warm in that perfect little honey pot between your legs.” Harry growls before unloading every last drop of his cum into you. Your body was a complete and quivering mess as you took all of Harry’s heavy load, and as you gushed all over him and the bed for the second time.
Masterlist
#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry smut#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles x reader#harry x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles writing#daddy!harry#subby wife!y/n#concepts of h#harrywritingsbyme
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Taro tea title game request.
So, I know I've sent you two things recently and one for your 3k event already (congrats on that btw!) So feel free to ignore/skip this or the other but, I have a scenario, not really sure if you'd wanna write the beginning, ending or anything but feel free to be creative and go where your inspiration takes you.
So, I have to believe being Kiri's girlfriend means he brags/shows off anything he like/love/remotely enjoys about you with anyone and everyone who will listen to him. Not in a 'look at what I have you fucking losers' kind of way but rather in a 'i fucking love my girlfriend and love sharing how amazing she is' kind of way.
I feel like kiri being kiri also has no trouble sharing even things about your sex lives (unless you say you're not ok with that). Which leads me to the kinda kinky but also super hot (at least to me) mess.
So one day he's having a guys night or something so Sero, Bakugou and Denki are over. They get on the topic of sex and stuff and somehow squirting comes up and Kiri is just like "yea, y/n does that. It's super hot." Que the group, except bakugou, who already know about this and has probably seen it cause he and Kiri are just that close being like wow that's hot and amazing.
Now at this moment you happen to stroll through the room cause you're hiding out in the bedroom so they can have guy time but you needed a snack or something. And a lightbulb goes off in Kiri's head. He loves showing you off.
One thing leads to another, and there you are on his lap, with him giving a demonstration of you *talents* with three sets of eyes taking in every detail to permanently etch it into their memories.
(this is all under the presumption that you are a consenting participant and all on lookers are either single or have an understanding with their S/O)
Hope you don't mind me sending this and once again no biggie if it's not something you wanna write! Love you and your content and don't wanna demand anything! 🦊
taro title: wide open + beginning.
tteokdoroki teaparty event masterpost!!!
♡ pairing: eijirou kirishima x fem!reader.
♡ genre: mdni, 18+, smut.
♡ summary: eijirou gives his friends a demonstration on how to make their girl squirt and you are the test subject.
♡ warning(s): heavy smut, squirting, exhibitionism, male masturbation, fingering ( female receiving ), pussy slaps :]
♡ author’s note(s): reee don’t worry about the number of requests darling !! i want to do as many as i can to give back to everyone 🥺 GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY BUT anyways i hope you enjoy this one !!
in all honesty, you weren’t to sure how you ended up in this situation. one moment, you were headed downstairs to grab a quick drink during your study break; the next you were plastered against your boyfriend’s firm chest— his large hand between your thighs as he spreads you out for all his friends to see.
one a month, eijirou invited his old college buddies over for guys night— a lot of them lead busy lives now and your boyfriend never asked for much, it was the least you could do to open up your home to his friends. for the most part, they were all nice guys, bakugou you had known the longest and he was much like a brother to you whilst you’d met kaminari and sero at your boyfriend’s college reunion. you never really sat in on the guys nights, keeping to yourself in your shared bedroom. occasionally when you popped out you’d be able to hear their topics of conversation.
tonight, just so happened to be about squirting.“oh yeah, my pretty girl squirts for me all the time.” eijirou hums proudly, taking a sip from his beer with a smirk as two of three out his friends hoot wildly. bakugou might have seen one or two things in the past, but the others believed you were completely innocent in bed due to your naturally quiet aura and personality. “it’s pretty cute, actually.”
and thats how you end up in your current predicament. your body flares with heat as three sets of eyes watch your movements eagerly— from the drastic rise and fall of your chest to the rapid, slick movement between your shaky legs. “c’mon now angel, feel your thighs tryna close around my hand— keep em wide open for me... so we can put on a show for them baby...” you look up to kirishima with tear stricken eyes, his hand never stopping as his thumb swipes vigorously against your clit. pressing two fingers against your entrance, you whine and search for the comfort in his ruby eyes.
you know that kirishima would never do anything to put you at risk, your comfort was always his top priory in the a scene like this and his only rules were that you listened and behaved well for him. with laboured breathing, your hole spasms around the digits that stretch you wide open and spread your arousal across your puffy folds. “yes, daddy,” comes your vulnerable smile as you relax your thighs that straddle your boyfriend’s. pride flashes across his face and he relents in curling his fingers to press down on your spongy g-spot. a reward for his good girl.
“she calls you daddy?” sero asks, succeeding in capturing your attention. your gaze trails down the man, his lean figure practically hanging off of his seat to catch sight of your cunt. eijirou had made sure to show you off nicely, shredding your cotton shorts and forcing your panties to the side in order to put your glistening hole on display. he’d rip your panties off later if he needed more room. either of your legs are hooked around his own, so if he spread his legs with you in his lap— he could help your flower blossom.
eijirou nods to his friend, free hand sliding up your flimsy camisole to expose your breasts before he pinches at the pebbled nipple. “the key to getting her to squirt isn’t just the way you touch her, but the way you talk and handle her as well. she trusts that i’ll take care of her as her daddy, right baby?” the way the red head and is friends discuss you as if you’re not even there makes your heat spasm— the sight alone earning groans from all three men, noises that you admit you want to hear more of.
“mmhm,” is all you manage to whimper out.
kaminari speaks next, amber eyes locking with yours. “fuck that’s cute, your lil cunt gonna squirt from the way daddy talks to you?” the blonde chuckles, forcing you to watch as his own hand slides beneath his pants to relieve the hard on thats formed from watching you. it doesn’t take you long to realise that all three men have been fisting their cocks to you. you almost nod your head in agreement.
a growl of possession rumbles in kirishima’s chest, the vibrations going straight to your pussy and adding pressure to the unwinding knot of your orgasm. he delivers a harsh spank to your folds, euphoria clogging your brain and clouding your vision as you cry out for him. “look at me,” kirishima snarls into your ear, laughing lowly as you gyrate your hips into the heal of his palm to earn friction against your clit. you glance up; a dark look you’ve seen oh so many times before. “why don’t you squirt for them baby? and after that, daddy’s gonna make them practice what they’ve learned on you, how does that sound?”
your body shakes and you can see the peak of your release on the horizon. you’d be a fool to say no to that.
#kirishima#eijirou kirishima#kirishima eijiro#kirishima x reader#kirishima x you#kirishima scenario#kirishima smut#kirishima fluff#kirishima angst#kirishima headcanons#kirishima imagine#kirishima fic#eijiro kirishima x reader#eijiro kirishima x y/n#eijiro kirishima headcanons#eijiro kirishima smut#eijiro kirishima fluff#kirishima eijiro x reader#kirishima eijiro x you#kirishima eijiro smut#kirishima eijiro headcanons#kirishima eijiro imagine#bakusquad headcanons#eijirou kirishima x reader#bakugou smut#kaminari smut#sero smut#🦊 anon#[ 🍩.drabbles ]#[ 🫖. tteokdoroki teaparty ]
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Soothe
Pairing: Reiner Braun × female bodied reader
Rating: M
Word Count: ~740
Warnings: nipple play, Rei being soft, just fluff all around
A/N: this idea has been living in my head rent free for days.
It's a lazy night. Movie after movie plays on the TV as you and Reiner lay on the couch.
Your shoulders are propped on pillows, head turned to watch the sci-fi film while your boyfriend lays between your legs. His head is resting on your chest, just below your breasts of which he doesn't seem all that interested in.
For a while at least.
Reiner is in one of his lower moods—tough day at work, phone argument with his mother. It's the main reason the two of you opted to stay home, but you don't mind one bit.
His shoulders heave with a sigh, and he nuzzles softly into you, rubbing his cheek against your shirt before turning his face against you and breathing so that you feel a spot of warmth seep through the material.
You card fingers through his hair, gently scratching at the back of his head in a way you know he likes.
"Feels good," he mumbles, words nearly unintelligible, but you can tell what he says just by the two syllables that vibrate against you.
"Yeah?" He nods against you, presses his lips just beneath the swell of your chest.
The tiny sound that escapes you is entirely involuntary, and Reiner lets out a little hum in response.
It doesn't take long to feel his hands move down your torso, fingertips dancing at the hem of your shirt before slowly pushing it up.
"And, just what do you think you're doing?"
Reiner continues to lift your shirt until it's up around your neck, and he wriggles further up your body, making sure to put most of his weight on his elbows on either side of you.
"Self soothing," he answers, pressing another kiss on the top of your breast before reaching for the front clasp of your bra a little awkwardly but managing to undo it smoothly. He swipes both cups to the side, exposing the fatty mounds and groaning low in his throat.
Lowering his face to one, Reiner brushes his lips over your nipple so that it pebbles under his breath.
You shift your hips against his and moan when he runs his tongue over the little bud. Reiner flicks it back and forth for a few moments then settles in and simply starts sucking.
And, you understand now, the self soothing. Because Reiner sighs through his nose, mouth gentle but moving continuously.
Your body relaxes just as his does, settling into the couch. Fingers find short blond hair again, beginning to curl at the ends since he hasn't gotten a trim for a while.
Having never been pregnant, there's not anything to actually come out of your breasts, but that doesn't stop Reiner from suckling as if there is. His tongue is warm and wet, the soft suction actually nice as he rhythmically pulls your nipple further into his mouth only to let go, repeating the action over… and over… and over again.
Naturally, it has an effect on you. Your core grows hot as slick begins to gather between your legs. You can also feel Reiner's growing erection, but neither of you act on it, content to just lay with your legs tangled together.
At some point he moves to your other nipple. You're surprised that the first doesn't feel very raw, but the cool air of the apartment has it growing even harder than it was before.
Reiner lavishes the same attention on this one. His eyes are trained on the TV now as he lays more on his side. He's holding your breast with one hand, squeezing to bring it closer to his mouth so that you aren't uncomfortable.
And, you just stay like that. All the way to the end of the movie, Reiner sucking at your tits like it'll put him to sleep. You're pretty sure it nearly does, his mouth beginning to move slower and slower.
"You havin' a good time?" You ask with a breathy laugh.
Reiner groans against you, sending little vibrations down your spine.
He barely bites down, holding your nipple between his incisors so that he can speak around it, "Could do this all night."
You believe him.
"Is it as soothing as you thought it would be?"
"Mhm."
He goes back to the gentle sucking, not unlike a baby nursing. It's a strange thought, but you honestly don't mind one bit because if Reiner wants to do this all night, you'll surely let him.
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If you're still taking prompts, bilbo and thorin being exasperated by each other's families? ("What have I married into?" "You have no room to talk, I married into the TOOKS.")
I absolutely adored this prompt, it made me cackle as soon as it floated into my inbox. I knew what I wanted to do with it right away. I hope you enjoy!
prompt "What have I married into?" "You have no room to talk, I married into the Tooks!"
word count 1618
relationship(s) thorin oakenshield/bilbo baggins
character(s) thorin oakenshield, bilbo baggins, fili, kili, dis, drogo, primula
additional notes let them eat cake!
translation(s)
amrâlimê – my love
-----
Anniversary parties were supposed to be fun. Thorin knew that, Bilbo knew that, and anyone who had any concept of celebrations knew that. It was Thorin and Bilbo’s one year anniversary, and you can bet that no one in the Shire was going to celebrate in half measures.
The same would have been done in Erebor, there was no escaping it.
What had started out as the idea of a quiet evening at home, certainly had turned into anything but. Drogo and Primula were to blame if you asked Bilbo, and yet Dis was to blame if you asked Thorin. At the end of the day, both Bilbo and Thorin had come to agree that it was a group effort to throw a large party in honor of Hobbiton’s most notable citizens.
Thorin had become something of a hobbit himself after opting for an early ‘reshirement’ away from the mountain, abdicating the throne and his nephews following suit. That meant Erebor’s seat of power had gone to Dain. Based on the occasional letter that came flying in from Erebor, the mountain was doing just fine, and no doubt Dain was creating no small amount of headaches for Thranduil and Bard in the long haul.
That always brought a small grin to Thorin’s face.
“This is not what I expected,” Bilbo finally voiced as they stood near the ledge of where the party had been set up, jostling the dwarf from his thoughts. Lights and decorations littered the party field, and even part of the large tree just off to the side! It was a grand spectacle that neither Thorin nor Bilbo had any part in helping with. Aside from showing up, of course.
“Nor I,” Thorin agreed quietly as they looked more like outcasts than the guests of honor. “What happened to a quiet dinner for two at home?” As stated, they both knew the answer.
“Do you think anyone will notice if we don’t stick around long?” Bilbo asked good-naturedly while jabbing his elbow into Thorin’s ribs.
“It most certainly will be noticed!” Primula chimed as she approached, Drogo on her arm and both wearing bright smiles. “You’ll not be sneaking away from this one. That goes for both of you. We spent far too long planning this, and I think all of Hobbiton will be present!” Prim exchanged looks with both Bilbo and Thorin. These were the relatives of Bilbo’s that were most enjoyable.
“Is Mirabella bringing her famous lemon bars?” Thorin asked like an excited youth, earning a small sigh from his husband.
“Do you ever not think about sugary foods?” Bilbo wasn’t actually annoyed. In fact, he was more pleased that those relatives of his were getting along with Thorin quite well. No one seemed to look at him differently just because he wasn’t from these parts - or a hobbit. “Though her lemon bars are to die for, I will give you that.”
“Now, lemon bars can wait. Please go mingle once more people arrive. They are all here for you, you know!” Prim chimed yet again, far too pleased with her good work today to be the slightest bit sour.
“Or you know, they’re here for the food,” Drogo teased at her side, earning a look from both Bilbo and Prim in unison. “What? It’s true. It’s why I go anywhere.”
Well, who could argue with that? The promise of a good party and free food.
“Oh! Prim, look! The cake! Another one of Mirabella’s masterpieces!” Drogo was already pulling Primula off, leaving Thorin and Bilbo to their own devices.
Though the hobbits weren’t the only ones mesmerized by some ridiculous looking cake with multiple tiers that would probably give Bombur and his baking skills and run for his money. Fili and Kili were sticking near wherever this cake was going, being shouted at by Dis and ultimately causing some sort of loud yelling match. All in love though, that was just how...their family seemed to be. It was all in good fun but left Thorin shaking his head.
“You’d think at this age they would learn,” He mused, finally offering Bilbo his arm as if to give the silent invitation to work the party.
“You didn’t, why should they?” Bilbo replied cheekily, more than happy to take Thorin’s arm, even if the idea of being in the thick of socializing with all of Hobbiton made him want to turn right back around and head home.
-----
“We should have just stayed home.” Bilbo grouched as he sat slumped in a chair and watched the madness unfold. It wasn’t that the party was bad, but he hadn’t done this much talking since...well, probably since he returned to Hobbiton with a dwarf in tow after those thirteen months he’d been gone.
“It’s not that bad,” Thorin idly remarked, taking a sip from his mug that had been filled...oh about twice now. It was starting to make him numb and tingly to the social ongoings of the evening.
“Fine, let me rephrase. I should have stayed home.” A proud sniff came from the grumpy hobbit who was more keen on grouching than inhaling food and drink like everyone else.
“You need to lighten up, it is our anniversary, unless you’re beginning to regret that just as much as this party?” Thorin finally let out a grumbly sigh of his own as he looked towards Bilbo, arching a brow and noticing that no longer Dis, Drogo and Primula were out in the grass dancing among other hobbits. That should have been a red flag in his mind.
“No! Of course not, I just…”
“Bilbo! Thorin! My lovely brothers who are constantly avoiding conversation out here,” Dis chimed as she approached with two plates in her hands. Pieces of white layered cake sat on those plates before they were placed before both Thorin and Bilbo. Dis took her seat to the side, crossing one leg over the other and looking...a little too amused.
Thorin knew that look. He’d known it since Dis was but a little pebble that could barely speak. She was up to something.
“Don’t look at me like that, Thorin. I just want you both to have a decent evening. Everyone’s been rather delightful, and put their best effort forward to ensure you both had a night to remember. Even that Sackville-Baggins woman, oh...what was her first name? Lo...something.”
“A disease,” Thorin coughed before dropping his gaze from his sister to the generous helping of white fluffy cake that sat before him. If ever there was a dwarf with a bigger sweet tooth, it would be a miracle.
“Brother, before you dive into that cake, I have to ask. Do you remember how back when Fili and Kili were young, whenever their birthdays would roll around and we presented them with any whipped sort of sweet you would generously dunk their faces into said dessert?” Because Thorin was the fun uncle when the boys were young, right? Frerin likely would have done the same thing.
“I do-” Thorin had started, but that was all he managed to say.
“Uncles!” Fili and Kili both practically screeched, though in unison with a call from two other voices.
“Happy anniversary!” Drogo and Primula, also from behind.
Far too many sets of hands landed at the back of Thorin and Bilbo’s heads respectively, pushing down and getting far too much satisfaction at the sound of a face being smashed into a whipped pastry.
Bilbo was the first to lift his head, blinking through the whipped frosting and clawing his fingers at his eyes while sputtering nonsense. The laughter from those behind him were far too loud, but quite contagious.
“You look good enough to eat, Uncles!” Kili cheekily commented as he patted one hand on Bilbo’s head, and one on Thorin’s - who also was trying to claw cream from his eyes.
“What have I married into?” Bilbo whined, but there was a small chuckle in all of that.
“You have no room to talk, I married into the Tooks!” Thorin retaliated while finally getting a good look at his frosting covered other half.
“And the Bagginses, don’t forget them!” Drogo pointed out rather chipperly before being swatted by Bilbo.
“You look absolutely ridiculous, Thorin. I hope you like scrubbing sugar out of your beard!” Bilbo took the remainder of the cake and frosting that his own face had been smashed into, promptly sending a handful of the rather ruined pastry into his husband’s face.
And here Thorin had just gotten the frosting cleared from his eyes!
“I told you this would put them in higher spirits.” Dis of course sounded way too pleased with herself before ushering her sons away and taking her leave as well. “Best leave the messy children to their games.” She cooed in a motherly tone before ruffling the curls on both Thorin and Bilbo’s heads.
Neither of the men could find themselves annoyed, even with their faces full of frosting.
“Oh look at you…” Bilbo reached forward and tried wiping a bit of that frosting away from the bright blue eyes he so adored.
“Me? Look at you.” Now that the dwarf could actually see again, Thorin was pleased to appraise the hobbit before him. “I’ve never been more excited at the idea of taking food to bed-“
Bilbo swatted at his husband rather quickly. “I know you have a sweet tooth but try to mind your manners. At least in public.” There was a gentle warning to Bilbo’s tone, but he genuinely couldn’t find a single thing to be grumpy about anymore. “Happy anniversary, love.”
“Happy anniversary, amrâlimê.”
One year down, and many happy ones to go.
#the hobbit#thorin oakenshield#bilbo baggins#bagginshield#thilbo#hobbit fic#hobbit fanfic#bagginshield fic#featuring#lady dis#fili#kili#drogo baggins#primula brandybuck#razquests#thank you for the request!#razzywrites
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Dick realizes he’s forgetting his childhood.
~oOo~
It hits him one day. It hits him hard.
In reality, it must have been a gradual thing. An overtime thing. A steady decline thing that he just didn’t notice, like rain on eroding rocks. Chipping, chipping, chipping away and weathering it down into pebbles.
But when he stops to actually look around, takes a moment to really think, it hits Dick hard. The wind knocked out of him, train plowing into him, upper cut to the jaw, mind reeling hard.
He can’t remember what his mom’s voice sounded like.
He remembers the old song she used to hum to him, can still dredge up the melody if he really tries, but he can’t remember what she sounded like. He’s almost sure she had a beautiful voice. Almost sure it was breathy and lower in pitch because she was a proud woman that used her voice for authority and rule. Sometimes, if he sits down and thinks exceptionally hard, he thinks even his father might’ve sung with her too.
Oh. Another thing.
He can’t remember the name of the cologne his father used.
It was something spicy, Dick’s sure. Something spicy that smelled like a mix of all the worlds best fireplaces and cinnamon sticks. It was warm, Dick’s positive of it, but sometimes he catches a whiff of vanilla and his mind goes back to his father on Sunday evenings when they didn’t have a performance, so maybe the cologne wasn’t spicy and Dick is just forgetting and remembering it all wrong.
That’s terrifying. How can he forget something as unique and special as his own mother’s voice or his father’s scent? What kind of son forgets something so pertinent to their parents?
He’s read articles about trauma messing with memories. Something about stress hormones going into overdrive, infecting and plaguing the fear factor and hippocampus that the brain just doesn’t recall anything. But he’s also read articles that say trauma enhances memory, that the adrenaline is just so prolific that it literally encodes the events permanently into the hippocampus rather than erase.
He’s even read articles that victims of childhood trauma lose their innocent past completely in a blink. That they may even believe the events never happened and it was all just a dream.
But Dick knows he had parents. He knows that his father was a happy man, outgoing to the fullest and in love with life. He knows his mother made delicious pancakes straight out of the box and that she always used real maple syrup instead of Log Cabin. He knows that they were all very close and his parents never made him feel ashamed for being clingy or wanting to sleep in their bed after a nightmare or seeking comfort after yet another failed trick or flip.
Dick knows. He remembers.
But sometimes the details get fuzzy. Was his baby blanket, the one he knows his long dead nana stitched for him, blue or gray? Were there two rooms or just a bed and a couch in their tiny trailer? Did Pop Haly boom or rumble with laughter? He knows these things happened. How else would he even know he had a blanket or a trailer or the comfort of loud laughter during even louder performances?
But for all his remembrance, for all his recollection, he doesn’t know if it’s real. If what he thinks are memories are but fond daydreams substituted for the blank spaces. He doesn’t have many pictures, but he’s got so many posters from Haly’s Circus. Enough so that his father’s face will never be confused with some stranger’s on the street. Dick has stared at all the bright colors for hours on end, and he knows exactly what shade of green his mother’s eyes were. He could pick out their colors in a forest and still know it wouldn’t be as close to what his mother’s eyes were like.
He knows faces. He remembers faces. He doesn’t remember who they were though. Who these people were and what they sounded and smelled like. What stories they shared. What family lineage they held.
He doesn’t remember what routine they were doing that night. He thinks it was a daring one, one they hadn’t done many times before hand because they wanted to make a good impression in Gotham. They were only going to be there for a month, Dick remembers that, but he can’t remember why it was so important to impress.
He was up next. His father had just flung his mother into the air, twirling and falling, and then his father had caught her by the ankles and they were swinging through the air as if they had grown wings and learnt how to fly.
He was up next. Only nine. Nervous but excited. There were so many people in the crowd, but he can only picture a massive blob. Bright lights. His mother’s face. Green eyes. His father’s strong shoulders. Cinnamon carrying in the wind.
He was up next. He would leap out, flip twice, and somersault his way into his mother’s awaiting grasp. Then, they would float and trade off holds with one another and Dick would be the one holding his mother’s ankles and he would be upside down as well and then-
He was up next. He was up next and he could see his mother’s bright smile beaming towards him, his father’s reassuring grip on the bar steady, and Dick was tensing to make the leap and then-
The line snapped.
Dick thinks his mother might’ve called out to him as they plummeted. Maybe a cry for help. A startled yell. A gasp. A shriek. Terror.
Dick likes to think he remembered her calling out his name.
He doesn’t know if what he does remember is true or not; if his parents’ bodies actually crumpled like wet paper or if they snapped like dry wood. He remembers their descent, but maybe not, because Graysons were known for flying but his parents fell like they had weights tied to their legs. Sound escaped him, smell too, and maybe that’s his problem. Maybe he just can’t remember important senses like sound and scent, but he does remember the way the sawdust turned black.
They had all worn their favorite leotards that night. Red, green, yellow, bright and happy. He doesn’t remember why it was so important to impress Gotham. It just stained their uniforms anyway. Stained their livelihood.
He doesn’t remember how long he stayed up there, gazing down down down at his parents. Broken and bloody. There was white mixed in with the red, and a little bit of purple here and there, bright splotches of blue and pink, and it’s funny that he remembers all that because their leotards only had three colors.
He blanks on the rest. Just knows that Danny Poteet shoved his face into his shoulder as the crowd disappeared, the mass of blobs and blurry faces fading. Mister Poteet was a nice man. He can’t remember what Poteet did, what his act was in the circus, but he’s pretty sure he had a long beard. Was that important? Was that even his name? Dick doesn’t remember.
And it angers him to no end that he can remember the organs that split their way through his parents leos, can probably name them now that he’s older, but not what his mother said to him as she fell. Not what his dad smelled like. Not what Danny Poteet mumbled to him as red and blue lights filled the tent.
He’s forgetting. Did he ever remember?
He wants to tell stories of his childhood. So badly wants to regale his brothers of his days in the circus. He can tell them all the working secrets of how twenty clowns fit inside a car meant for a baby. How fire breathers drank oil without it ever touching their tongues. How the strong man was actually just a pillow lifter with down in his suit. How strong and fast and beautiful the Flying Graysons were on the trapeze.
He can tell all those things because they were simple and everyday and honestly common knowledge (which also scares Dick because what if he only “remembers” these things because he looked them up one day and just pretended that he always knew it because that’s how he grew up, that is how he lived, but what if he’s wrong-). More than anything though, Dick wants to tell them about his parents.
About Mary and John Grayson and how they were the kindest and most amazing people Dick ever knew. But he can’t. Not without lying, and his parents hated liars (he hopes they did, please, he hopes he remembers at least one truthful thing that he hasn’t made up).
So when Tim looks at him like he’s lost his mind when he says, “I think my dad smelled spicy,” or when Jason laughs at him when Dick tries to tell him about this baby elephant that might’ve existed at some point or when Damian only sighs when he tries to recall a story with so many holes and fragments that it’s just incomprehensible, Dick feels like crying.
How can someone just forget a lifetime of memories? How can he just lose the only connections he has to his parents like it’s nothing?
Posters only go so far. Faded and hazy dreams of a melody that won’t leave his throat only do so much. Wisps of vanilla and burnt wood only taper the feelings of loss ever so slightly.
It’s not enough. It’s not enough.
He’s forgotten. He’s forgotten.
#Dick Grayson#Nightwing#Robin#Flying Graysons#Mary and John Grayson#tw:blood#tw:gore#cw:death#my fic#fanfic#so in conclusion trauma sucks ass#i hate realizing i've forgotten things from the past due to unfavorable circumstances and i cna only imagine that feeling is rampant#throughout the entire batfam#childhood trauma is like a requirement to be a robin and dick for sure got the short end of the stick#batfam#im kinda on an angst binge rn#angst#is#my#passion
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Can I please oh please request the kirishima, Midoriya, shoto, katsuki. who owns a pomeranian dog who is just like bakugo. and they ask for them hey babe can you please baby sit my bog how would they react when meeting the dog. 🙏🙏you can have my soul I need this in my life. (https://youtu.be/1Yy2kI70glc)
Omg yes! As a big dog lover and then seeing Bakugou as an angry Pomeranian, this is going to be golden! 😂 Also the vine, ahhhh I feel old!
Ejirou Kirishima-
Whenever your boyfriend told you he had a new dog, you were so excited! Then you seen the bite marks, that’s when he explained the dog was a reincarnation of Katsuki Bakugou himself. You laughed, thinking he was lying. No, no he was not.
Whenever you arrived at his house, you knocked on the door. You heard a small, but fierce, bark. You laugh, you had to babysit the dog for the day while Kiri was doing some errands. He let you in, smiling. “Pebbles! Hey!” He said, pulling you into a hug. He picked up the Pomeranian and showed it to you. “This is Suki! She loves treats and loves shoes, so be careful!” The dog tilts it at, while you go to pet it. “Wait no-!” He says, but it’s too late. The dog bit you, your first instinct was to go full Iida mode with the karate chop hands. But you didn’t, instead you were saying a bunch of horrible words in your head. “Sorry! I’ve been trying to train her to stop!” He says, kissing your hand. “Are you sure you want me to babysit her?” You ask, now very cautious of it now. As he goes over rules, Suki is trying to bite your ankles, thankfully you’re walking fast enough for her not to. As the day went on, you had to put your shoes somewhere that she couldn’t reach. “Come on! Just like me!” You say as she looks up at you and barks. “Wait!” Thats when your idea pops into your head, you grab the treat bag and start to bribe her with those dog treat shaped bones.
As time passed, you were finally able to gain her love and affection. Or well, as best as you could get. Whenever Kiri arrived, you heard him close the door and yell out, “babe I’m home! I brought food for you and Suki!” You laugh as you get up to greet him, Suki happily running behind you. From that day on, you babysit her at least once a week. You became best friends with her while she still lowkey hated Kiri!
Shoto Todoroki-
I mean let’s be honest, Shoto seems like a cat kind of man. Whenever he told you that he got a puppy, you were instantly confused. He showed you a picture of this tiny, golden Pomeranian. You fell in love with it, that’s when he asks if you’ll babysit. Not really caring about what the dog is like, you automatically say yes. That’s when you get to see how you might lose a finger or too.
“Okay babe, this is Aki, now fair warning-“ he gets cut off by the dog trying to sound aggressive by barking. It didn’t scare you but lord was it annoying. Whenever he left Aki with you, it was like leaving a mini Bakugou with you. The dog would tear up toys, shoes, bark at you as if he had sass, and even trying to bite your ankles. “Ah!” You say as you try not to get bit, the dog would somehow would act as if he was laughing at you. Over time, you learned how to master the way of the angry Pomeranian. You were taking him outside, playing fetch with him, so I mean technically he can chew up whatever out there. “Good boy! Now bring me the uh,” you pause as you look at what’s left of that poor stick. “The left part of that stick! Or what to be it at least.” And he did, it was covered in slobber and dirt, but hey at least he listened! Time went by fast and it was finally dark. You went inside, chilling out on the couch. Whenever you close your eyes, you felt something jump on top of you. You quickly open your eyes to only see it was Aki.
Whenever Todoroki got back, he found the two of you asleep in the couch. He smiled, giving you a kiss on the forehead and covering you and Aki up with a blanket. He made sure all the lights were off and that everything was comfortable for you so you could sleep good. Whenever you woke up in the morning, the puppy was still there. You smile and you lay your head back again after looking, who knew you could make friends with the Bakugou dog?
Izuku Midoriya-
Midoriya loved any kind of animal! So it wasn’t a shocker to you when he got a Pomeranian puppy. It was the cutest thing you ever seen in the world! Whenever he asked you to babysit, was because he had to train with some of his classmates. You got excited because 1) who doesn’t love dogs, 2) who doesn’t love puppies, and lastly 3) who doesn’t love raiding your boyfriend’s fridge.
Whenever you arrived, the dog was asleep on its bed. Deku kissed you and went on his way. Whenever you were looking around, the water bowl had pretty handwriting with the name “Mai” on it, you smiled. It was so cute to see how he took care of her, whenever you were filling her bowl, she ran in there, almost hitting a wall just so you know. “I’m guessing your hungry?” You say, looking now at her. Whenever you take a bit longer than she was hoping for, she would immediately start barking and go for the ankles. You felt a sharp pain on your ankle, “ah!” You yell, dropping her food everywhere. Mai went to town, eating whatever landed on the floor. “You should of been named Katsuki you devil dog.” You mumble to yourself, after some time you realize that some things she loves is food and sleeping. So you offer to take a nap with her on the couch, and she loved it! She snuggled up to you on your chest and instantly went to sleep.
Whenever Midoriya got home, he found you in the floor playing with her. You looked as if you just got up, so he chuckled. “What’s so funny?” You asked, yawning. “Did you take a nap while I was gone?” He asked, sitting down his gym bag. You laugh, “maybe but that’s how I can bond with her!” You say, holding her up. She started laughing your face, he laughs. “She loves me more than you, that’s not fair!” Since then, you officially became the favorite. And honestly, it was hilarious at times! So you always said you would go and see mini Bakugou, while granted Katsuki didn’t like the joke, you thought it was hilarious.
Katsuki Bakugou-
You always called him, your angry Pomeranian. He didn’t appreciate it and honestly it just gave off those vibes even more. Whenever he explained that his parents got a new dog, he asked if you could babysit. You loved his parents and honestly, you didn’t mind watching the dog. They were going on a family trip, since you know family bonding and all.
Whenever you arrived early that morning, you were holding your cup of coffee when you unlocked the door. The dog immediately started to bark and it scared the crap out of you. Let’s say coffee went everywhere! “Ah!” You yell out, the dog kept barking. “Okay mini Bakugou! I get it!” You say, cleaning up the coffee quickly. Whenever you went back into the kitchen, you noticed a note.
“Dear Dumbass, make sure you feed her and give her a bath. Here’s a list of stuff my parents want-“
You stopped reading after that, okay so a bath. Not hard right? Nope! It was one of the most horrible things you had to experience with that dog, Yuki, the dog, was barking and trying to bite the whole time. It was honestly one of the most traumatic experiences in your life, for crying out loud the dog looks like a wet rat in the bath! As the day went on, you slowly gained her trust. With different treats and games, she actually licked you! All you thought that dog could do is bark and bite, but apparently not!
Whenever they arrived, Bakugou came in first. He seen you and grabbed you for a hug. “There’s my favorite dumbass!” He says, kissing you. You laugh and kiss him back, you look up at him. “You realize that dog is exactly like you right?” You say, his face was filled with anger. “ARE YOU CALLING ME A DOG!?” He yells, then Yuki starts to bark loudly as well. You laugh and roll your eyes, oh boy this was going to be a lot to handle.
This was too cute! 🥺 also here’s my doggos, because I mean why not!?
I hope you have a great day! :) P.S, pictures of doggos are right below! ⬇️
#anime#bnha#bokuno hero academia x reader#mha#my hero x reader#my hero x y/n#x reader#fluff#bakugou x y/n#bnha x gender neutral reader#dog photos#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha shoto todoroki#bnha shoto x reader#bnha headcanons#bnha deku#bnha x reader#boko no hero academia#my hero headcanons#mha headcanons#bnha kirishima#kirishima x reader#mha kirishima#shoto todoroki x reader#bnha deku x reader#deku x reader#bakugou x gender neutral reader
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boys boys boys
Inspired by this awesome post. I couldn’t resist. Also, I recommend listening to Mötley Crüe’s “Girls Girls Girls” while reading the story. Also available over on AO3.
[Now with a Sam/Bucky sequel!]
*
1
Sam wakes to a loud crash, followed by a string of breathlessly hissed curses. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, and why—on mission, somewhere in the alps, near the border between Switzerland and Italy—but once he does, he rolls over with a tired groan, blindly fumbling for the bedside lamp.
In the dim light it casts, he can make out Bucky crouched by the other bed across the room, picking shards of glass out of a damp spot on the carpet. His shoulders are tense, and he’s carefully avoiding Sam’s gaze, his mouth a thin, unhappy line. It’s too dark for Sam to see, right now, but he’d bet a hefty sum of money on the bags under Bucky’s eyes to be even more pronounced than yesterday.
A quick glance at his phone tells him it’s shortly after four in the morning, meaning they’ll have to be up and ready in less than two hours. Also meaning there’s no point in going back to sleep again.
Yawning, Sam throws back the covers, and slides out of bed. Bucky’s still not looking at him as he heads for the tiny kitchenette in the corner to flick on the kettle. He keeps his back to Bucky while he grabs mugs and tea bags, busying himself with preparing their tea in order to give Bucky at least a semblance of privacy.
(Watch out for the break!)
Sam’s no stranger to night terrors himself, although it’s hard to imagine what kind of horrors plague Bucky’s dreams, on top of the ones everyone in their line of work is unfortunately, intimately familiar with. And Bucky would almost definitely rather bite off and swallow his own tongue than admit it, but Sam’s fairly sure their current location isn’t exactly helping Bucky’s general state of mind, either.
It doesn’t take long for the water to start boiling, but once Sam turns back around, two steaming mugs in hand, the only evidence of what happened are the pieces of the broken water glass in the trash can by the desk. Bucky’s sitting on the bed, back leaned against the wall, knees pulled up, and face buried in his hands.
He lifts his head when Sam plops down next to him, though, taking the proffered mug with a raspy, “Thanks.”
They don’t talk, but after a couple of minutes, once Bucky’s looking a little less wild around the eyes, Sam bumps their shoulders together. Bucky leans into the contact, and they continue to drink their tea in silence.
2
By the time Sam catches up with him, Bucky’s got the last remaining HYDRA agent pinned against the wall by his throat, frantically scrabbling at Bucky’s metal arm as his face turns redder and redder. Sam lands a few feet away, and approaches the remaining distance on foot, hands held up placatingly.
Their objective is to bring this particular guy in alive for questioning. Sam knows this. Bucky knows this. Sam knows that Bucky knows this.
What Sam doesn’t know is if Bucky cares.
The instant they’d stepped foot in this particular base, Bucky’s whole demeanour had changed. He’d blinked at the lab equipment, first in confusion, then in recognition, and Sam had realised they were in for one hell of a bumpy ride.
“Bucky,” he says, quiet, when he comes to a stop at Bucky’s side.
Bucky’s breathing hard, chest heaving, and he bares his teeth in a silent growl before dropping the guy to the floor. “I know.”
Whoever this guy is, he definitely does not know when to quit. He coughs violently, but even though he can barely catch his breath, he spits out, “Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать—”
Sam winces, but Bucky only rolls his eyes, grunts out, “Will you shut up?” and smashes the guy’s head into the wall, knocking him out cold.
Then he turns to Sam, grins, and announces, “You carry 'im upstairs,” before walking away.
Sam glares at his retreating back. “Man, you've got super strength!”
“You got wings, flyboy!”
“We’re in a bunker!”
“Can’t hear you, gotta speak up!”
“Oh, fu—”
3
Bucky’s sitting at the end of the dock, legs dangling over the edge, bare feet dipped into the water.
Sam loosens his tie as he walks over to him, the bottles of beer Pepper had handed him upon arrival hanging between the fingers of his free hand, clinking together softly. He kicks off his dress shoes once he reaches Bucky, and nudges him with the bottles until he takes them so Sam can pull off his socks.
The water of the lake is pleasantly cool, even in the otherwise sweltering summer heat, making Sam groan out loud when he pushes his feet in. Bucky chuckles quietly as he hands one of the beers back over.
“How bad was it?” Bucky asks, after a couple of minutes. He’s worrying his bottom lip, absently peeling the edge of the label on his bottle.
“A lot of speeches from a lot of people thinking themselves incredibly important.”
That makes Bucky snort out a laugh. “So, Steve woulda hated it, is what you’re sayin'?”
“Oh,” Sam says, equally amused, “definitely, yeah.”
He takes a pull of his beer, eyes wandering over to the willow tree on the shore, and the stone bench sitting in its shadow. They’re too far away for Sam to be able to read the memorial plaques, though if he squints, he can just about see them between the gently swaying branches.
Stark.
Tasha.
Steve.
Bucky comes readily when Sam slings an arm around his shoulders, smiling sadly at Sam’s, “Happy birthday, old man.”
“Happy birthday, Stevie.”
+1
Stakeouts are boring.
And this one especially, since absolutely nothing has happened on any of the three days they’ve been watching the place. Their intel had been frustratingly vague, only alluding to someone with certain information maybe coming to stay at this particular Airbnb sometime this week.
With nothing else to do, Sam checks their perfectly working surveillance devices again, and scowls at the side of Bucky’s head.
Bucky never looks up from his rifle, but mutters an annoyed, “Cut it out,” in Sam’s general direction.
Sam pulls a face at him, but before he can snark something back, Bucky’s phone chimes from his pocket. Bucky startles, and fumbles it out with a clearly embarrassed, “Shit, sorry 'bout that.”
“Look at the professional,” Sam teases, and has to bite back a laugh when Bucky flicks a pebble at him. “Overwhelmed by modern technology, grandpa?”
“Funny,” Bucky says, deadpan, with a roll of his eyes. “Remind me, who was it who forgot to—”
“One time!” Sam cuts in, and throws a pebble back, nailing Bucky in the chest. “And I wasn’t the one who—”
Bucky glowers at him. “That doesn't count!”
“Yes, it most certainly does count,” Sam counters, ready to argue his point, when suddenly— “Wait, wait, hold on!”
“What?” Bucky is frowning, looking from Sam to their target house, then back again. “Somethin’ happening?”
Sam shakes his head, and tries to think of a delicate way to ask the question burning on the tip of his tongue, only to blurt out, “Are you on Grindr right now, man?”
The way Bucky’s entire face goes hot is very telling.
“Look, I was gonna tell ya—”
“No, hey,” Sam is quick to interrupt, reaching over to give Bucky’s arm a reassuring squeeze, “you don’t owe me an explanation, okay? I was just, uh. Let’s go with surprised.”
Bucky ducks his head, but he’s smiling faintly. “‘S not somethin’ I’m used to talkin’ about, is all.”
“Well, if you ever need to talk about it,” Sam spreads his arms in invitation, grinning when Bucky rolls his eyes again, “I’m right here.”
It’s enough to dispel the last of the awkwardness between them. Bucky quirks a brow at Sam, chin propped up on one hand, and flutters his lashes as he asks, “Wanna talk about boys, Wilson?”
“We’ve got the time,” Sam points out, then holds out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
The look that earns him is extremely dubious. “Why?”
“Look,” Sam wiggles his fingers impatiently, “do you want my help, or not?”
“Never asked for it,” Bucky grumbles, but does unlock and hand over his phone. “Just don’t—”
“Open the DMs, yes, got it,” Sam says, grimacing, and frantically presses the back button while Bucky cackles next to him, eyes shining with mirth. “That’s very forward.”
“Oh, he ain’t even the worst one,” Bucky says, looking at the screen over Sam’s shoulder. “What’re you doin’, anyway?”
Scrolling down the list of recent conversations, Sam clicks on the picture of a guy who’s actually showing his face, instead of his thighs or abs. “Figuring out your type.”
He stops swiping when he gets to a picture of the guy in a suit, and tilts the phone so Bucky can see better. “You know, he reminds me of—”
“Nope,” Bucky snatches the phone back, slapping at Sam’s hands when he tries to steal it again, “don’t ruin ‘im for me—”
“You don’t know who—”
“I don’t wanna know!”
“I think you already know he looks like—”
“I will throw you off this roof, Wilson!”
“Bring it on, Barnes!”
#the falcon and the winter soldier#sam wilson#bucky barnes#friendship#coming out#short and funny#no tfatws spoilers#myfics
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A lit torch to the woodpile high (part 3)
A Paz VIzsla Bartender!AU
Rating: M (this one gets spicy folks)
Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader
Warnings: Alcohol (they work in a bar), pining, death/grief mention, masturbation, fantasies of p in v sex, Paz puts himself in horny jail, light smut
Word count: 3.1k
Description: This one is purely self-indulgent. You decide to up the ante and make Paz’s life (and other parts of him) hard. Harlow is a lil shit, but we love for for it.
Author’s note: I’m still not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I’ve been working on it for far too long. Lightly edited, unbeta’d. Please go here to be added to the taglist! This one goes out to my pal May. Missing you on my dash. Hope you see this update and enjoy it 🥰
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
He couldn’t get you out of his head. It was maddening.
It had been a long time since anyone had stirred these kinds of feelings up for him, and he doesn’t recall it ever hitting him like a freight train.
He used to think of life in two absolutes: Before he lost everything and After, when he had to pick up the pieces. Now he was starting to think there was more to it, that those absolutes were just parts of him.
If only he wasn’t such a miserable bastard. You were the light in a dark sky. Not just for him, for everyone. He saw the delighted smile that was plastered on Rick’s face after you walked in every day and asked him how his grandchildren were doing, if his wife’s knee was feeling any better.
Paz noticed the change in Harlow’s demeanor now that she had a friend who could build her up when she talked about her dreams. Hell, Madge snuck you food every chance she got, and she only ever did that for him.
He found himself lying awake in bed tonight, as usual, trying to calm the stream of thought that entered his head. Before you, he only could ever think about the ghosts of his past. People he had loved and lost.
But now? Now as he closed his eyes, he saw your eyes, sparkling with delight. Your lips, in a pout, then stretched over a brilliant smile.
The delicate curve of your neck and shoulder. Your ass. He groaned out loud. God, your ass was out of this world. The way it moved when you bent over to grab a dish towel from the bottom shelf. He always had to look away before his thoughts got away from him, or else his mind would wander and he would imagine snaking his arms over yours and caging you to the bar, rolling his hips into yours. You would wiggle your ass against him and throw your head back to see his reaction.
Fuck. Now he was hard. Every time this happened, he would either watch some porn or force himself to think of a woman he didn’t know, someone who he dreamed up in his head.
But no faceless stranger or actress could quite do it for him like you would. He could feel his self control crumbling as he reached into his boxer briefs and fisted his aching cock, taking it out and letting it sit heavy against his stomach, straining with need.
He ran a finger up the underside, imagining it was you teasing him, getting acquainted with how hot and hard he was for you. He let himself picture you, naked and in between his legs, stroking him gently, watching him come apart underneath you. Ideally, he’d flip you over and dive face first into your cunt, lapping wide stripes at your slick folds with his tongue, then sucking your clit into his mouth. He would wait until you’re mewling under him, then he’d plunge a finger into you, stretching you around his finger and adding another. He’d wait until you came in his mouth at least twice before he fucked you. He’d have you begging for his cock, so slick with need it dripped down your thighs.
In this part of the fantasy, you’re so feral for him, your eyes bright and wide looking up at him with hunger, that he acquiesces, and you climb onto his lap and bounce up and down on his cock.
He was stroking himself faster now, feeling so close to the edge. He grit his teeth, growling your name as he came all over his fist, spurts reaching up his stomach, almost all the way to his chest.
As soon as he came to his senses, he sighed, feeling disgusted with himself.
There was a moment in the bed of his truck that night, where you had stared at him, your gaze flickering down to his mouth as you licked your bottom lip. It was just a small flash of your tongue– but it gave him hope for a moment. He had hope that someone as beautiful and kind as you could see through the darkness within him, see the guy he used to be before he lost everything.
But that part of Paz died, along with the family he cared so deeply for. The remaining ones scattered to the wind, unable to carry on pretending like everything hadn’t changed.
He sighed deeply, getting up to wash the shame off himself. At least he’d sleep soundly tonight and dream of a reality where he could hold you in his arms.
Paz seemed to be in higher spirits lately, following your chat in his office. It wasn’t like he skipped into the room and had birds fluttering around his head, like a Disney princess, but he didn’t snap at anyone who made eye contact with him, so it was a noticeable difference.
That was the hot topic conversation of the day, especially for Harlow. She couldn’t get over the 360 change that seemingly happened overnight.
“So, did you doink the grumpy out of him or what?” Harlow asked. She was leaning over the bar, looking at you expectantly with her hands under her chin.
“Of course not!” You said, a little too loudly. “There has not, and will not be any doinking, ever.”
“This sounds like work appropriate conversation,” a deep voice drawled.
You both spun around, not expecting to see him standing in the doorway, his eyebrow arched. He was clearly unimpressed.
“I’m going to go clean the bathrooms,” Harlow said, dashing out back. Fucking traitor.
You prayed to the almighty maker that the floor would open up and swallow you whole, but there was no such luck in store for you today.
“Hey Paz,” you said, trying to sound casual, as if Harlow hadn’t been talking about your non-existent sex life.
“Hey you,” he said, mimicking your tone. “I actually came out here to ask you if you could swap a shift with Harlow next Friday. I fucked up and scheduled her on a day she requested off. You’d get Sunday off in return.”
“Sure,” you agreed, nodding. “I don’t have any plans.”
“You don’t have any plans to ‘doink’ anyone that night?” He teased.
You could feel your face heating up in embarrassment.
“Not unless you know any willing volunteers.”
Paz barked out a laugh.
“I might know a guy,” he said, a smirk etched on his handsome face.
You both cursed and thanked the powers above that a customer decided to walk in right at that moment. Of course it was Bob. He usually was the first to come in and one of the last to leave.
Not wanting to lose whatever contest was going on (real or perceived), you gave Paz a coy smile and leaned over the bar to take Bob’s order, making sure you poked your ass out further than necessary.
You couldn’t see Paz’s reaction, but when he exited without so much of a goodbye, you gave yourself an internal fist pump.
In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to (potentially) break a dress code at work, but in your defense it was hotter than the surface of the sun, and internal temperature of the bar only seemed to get higher as the night went on.
Also, maybe it would be an added bonus if you got to torture a giant, brooding bartender in the process.
You felt pretty proud of your decision to wear your thinnest bralette, squeeze into your smallest pair of shorts, paired with a t-shirt that was just a little too small.
Of course your car decided to stall 3 times on the way to work, and your AC was busted so you walked in 15 minutes late, already feeling like a frizzy, sweaty mess. Your entrance wasn’t as grand as you were hoping, feeling like your half-assed attempt at makeup had already melted off your face, and the black v-neck you wore was clinging to you in all the wrong places, mainly your sweaty back and right under your bra.
In your rush to clock in before the 20-minute mark, you crashed right into Paz, almost falling and landing on your ass. Paz, of course, barely moved a centimeter. His hand shot out, grabbing you by the shoulder to hold you steady.
“Woah there, small fry, be careful,” he murmured. His hand was large and warm. You had to take a deep breath to get a hold of yourself.
“Paz, I’m so sorry I’m late. My fucking car stalled out on the way and–” you started babbling, pushing your sweaty mane back, praying he couldn’t see the sweat stains on your shirt.
“It’s okay, shit happens. You need someone to look at your car? I know a guy.” He was leaning forwards to get a better look at you, looking concerned. You had trouble controlling how fast your heart was beating and your lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough air. It was plain bizarre, the affect this man had on you with a simple gesture.
I know a guy. Your cheeks felt warm remembering the last time he uttered that sentence.
You had expected him to get angry with you for being late. Hell, you remember the gruff tone he gave you on your first day when he said to show up on time.
“I- I um,” you were having a hard time coming up with words, too distracted by the sensation of Paz’s thumb rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder, brushing against your collar bone. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps rise on your flesh and your nipples instantly pebbled. You stole a quick glance down to make sure it wasn’t obvious. Shit, it totally was.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Let me know if you change your mind,” he replied. Had his voice dropped a few octaves or were you just imagining it? He removed his hand from your shoulder, much to your chagrin, and backed up a little, giving you a once-over.
“Go ahead and clock in and give yourself a couple minutes to get settled. It should be slow today,” he gave you a soft smile.
“Okay, thanks,” you said, giving him a shy smile in return.
It was about 3 hours into your 8 hour shift and it was dead. There wasn’t a single customer in sight. It wasn’t that surprising, given it was a Tuesday, but God were you bored. It was just you and Paz tonight, with Paz sending Madge home (with pay) and no one else being scheduled.
You didn’t really mind, though, figuring it was a good time to get to know Paz better. He was wiping the already clean bar down for the fifth time that night, really driving the bartender stereotype home.
“You’re going to start wearing the varnish down at this rate,” you laughed, gesturing at the rag in his hand.
He looked down, shaking his head in a playfully exasperated way and let out an embarrassed huff of laughter.
“Alright, how do you suggest we pass the time?”
“How about 20 questions?”
Paz immediately groaned in protest.
“Oh shut up, you big baby, I’ll answer first. Go ahead,” you cocked your chin at him. “Got any questions you’re dying to ask me?”
“Why did you apply for a job here?”
Your first instinct was to deflect, but you did suggest this game, and figured you just had to bite the bullet and answer honestly.
“To be honest, I still haven’t figured out what I want to do,” you explained. “I know, kind of pathetic for someone my age. I took a bartending class at the local adult learning center, got a certificate and just kind of walked in here and asked for an application on a whim.”
Paz could sense your discomfort, how you were ashamed that you hadn’t found your way yet. It was something he could identify with, in a way.
“That’s not pathetic at all,” he said, crossing his arms. “Plenty of people don’t know what they want to do at your age.”
You shrugged, not wanting to continue the subject.
“Boxers or briefs?”
Paz arched an eyebrow, his ever-present sign of judgement coming through.
“That’s what you’re dying to ask me?”
“No, but I figured I’d warm you up first,” you said, giving him a cheeky smile.
“Boxer briefs. Favorite color?”
“Blue. Where did you grow up?”
Paz’s casual expression faltered at the question.
“Far away. I’d rather not get into it today, if you don’t mind.” The easy smile vanished from your face, replacing it with a nod of understanding.
“That’s totally fine, Paz. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you sat down at a table, and gestured at the chair across from you, signaling him to sit down. You wanted him to feel at ease around you.
“You and your apologies,” Paz said, a look of fond disbelief on his face. “You have nothing to apologize for, mesh’la.”
A beat of silence passed, waiting for Paz to think of a question. You wanted to ask him what that word he had called you meant, but you had a feeling he would dodge the question.
“Who were you and Harlow talking about yesterday?” Paz rested his chin in his hand, giving you a shit-eating grin. He must have known the answer already, given the smug look on his face.
You felt the color drain out of your face.
“Why do you want to know so badly?” You countered. In the back of your mind, you thought you probably shouldn’t have talked back to your boss, but his smile didn’t waver. In fact, it only got wider.
“That doesn’t answer my question, sweetheart,” he drawled, stretching his legs and crossing one over the other.
“Harlow,” you thought of a way to word this without incriminating yourself or your friend. But screw it, she had opened her big mouth in the first place. “Harlow thinks there’s something going on between you and me.”
You briefly wondered if his facial muscles were used to this kind of workout, with the grin that refused to let up.
“And your answer was basically, ‘ew no’, ouch,” he chuckled.
“It’s not like– ugh. Fuck you.” You hid your face in your hands. He laughed harder. You had to do something to flip this around, gain back a little power over the situation.
Oh. An evil thought entered your brain. You removed your hands from your face and smirked. Paz was still grinning, but you saw a hint of fear in his eyes.
“Pray tell, what would you have preferred I said?”
Paz leaned back in his chair and regarded you for a moment. It seemed you had thrown him through a loop. You couldn’t help but feel pleased with yourself.
But then he leaned forward, placing both of his large hands on the table, a hungry look in his eyes.
“You can say whatever you want to Harlow,” he said, his voice even but significantly huskier than usual. “But I’d prefer it if you didn’t lie to yourself.”
It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest any second now. You weren’t sure if he was being serious and it was making your head spin.
A sound came from the kitchen, snapping you both out of the moment. You sprung apart, despite having a table between your bodies.
“Okay lovebirds, I’m heading home.” It was Madge, standing by the kitchen doors, snickering at your antics.
“Night, Madge,” Paz called.
You waved feebly and offered a weak “goodnight” at her retreating figure.
It had been too quiet since she had left. Paz seemed unwilling to continue the conversation, opting to brood silently. You muttered something about getting a head start on inventory and retreated into the dusty storage closet to pretend you were counting inventory. Though, you didn’t bring a pen and paper with you, so really you just went out back to stare at a bunch of kegs and liquor bottles, hoping they would miraculously answer all of the questions that were whirring through your brain.
You must have been staring at a bottle of Hennessy for at least a full 5 minutes when the door opened. Paz looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was mussed up, as if he had been running his fingers through it. His chest was heaving as if he had just sprinted a mile.
“Paz.” His name came out of your mouth like a prayer. You weren’t sure what you were asking of him, but you knew you needed him to act.
He stepped closer, slowly, as if he was afraid the floor would open up from under his feet.
“Tell me to stop.” Paz was just inches away now, caging you into the shelves behind you with his arms.
“What if I don’t want you to stop?” You asked, tipping your chin up to look at him.
He growled and tangled his fingers in your hair, kissing you with fervor.
Despite the ferocity of his kiss, his lips were so soft, so pliant. You moaned and licked into his mouth needing to taste him. Paz moaned, pushing you into the shelves further.
“You drive me crazy,” he panted, pressing his forehead to yours. You responded by capturing his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him back to your mouth. You were rewarded with a low groan and a push of his hips.
He was hard. That knowledge sent you into a haze. You needed him closer. Your arms went around his shoulders, kneading and pulling him in. He broke the kiss and peppered smaller kisses on your jaw, then down your neck.
“You wear these tiny little shorts and tight shirt to torture me?” He asked, already knowing the answer. He nibbled at your collar bone, hitting a spot that had you throwing your head back against the shelves.
“Yes,” you chuckled breathlessly.
“Mmm, knew it,” he answered, running his hands down your back, down to your ass, giving it a generous squeeze that had you mewling.
“I’ve been hard all fucking day, seeing you waltz around in those shorts, with your nipples hard, begging to be sucked.”
He rubbed his thumb over one of your nipples, causing it to pebble. Paz swallowed your gasp with his mouth, giving you another searing kiss.
Reality came rearing its ugly head in the form of the front door opening. Paz huffed and pressed his forehead to yours, hands coming around your hips to help you off the shelf.
“Duty calls,” he sighed, reaching his hand down into his jeans to adjust himself. Your mouth watered at the sight.
Paz exited the closet, strolling out and greeting the customer as if nothing had just happened, while you stole a few moments to yourself to get your bearings.
It was going to be a long night.
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