@zucchiyeni's dtiys

design credits: dust by @safwunsies nightmare by @justanidiotartist horror by @westaysilly killer by @zucchiyeni

timelapse & ramblings under the cut

i tried to put this in the tags but it was way too long so here are my.... ramblings? design notes? process? watever it is it's here now

killer is the one i changed the least, even the pose is pretty much the same i kept the asymetrical design from the dtiys (w/ one sleeve rolled up & only one shoulder w/ spikes) for the shoes i kinda went watever & put the spikes in the middle (i bet you it caused some of the holes in his jeans) i like to think he chose blue soles bc he did a collab w/ nightmare so that he's not the only one w/ cool colors his main color is still red, but i made the leather, t-shirt, metal & jeans blue-ish as a complementary color

for nightmare, i don't even know if his design is canon, but when i saw that the murder time trio did collabs w/ him i knew i had to draw it i didn't touch the base design itself but i switched the colors around a lot bc i really didn't know how to make it work w/ the rest of the characters i kept the base palette (blue/cyan, purple & pink) but had purple as a main & cyan as an accent color (pink itself is only there in the glitter) also yeah i put the glitter on his coat instead of his tentacles cuz i wanted to show his bones & tentacles are made/covered in the same goopy stuff, and the glitter kinda went in the way of that i like that his colors are really different from the other & you can tell he goes solo while they're in a band, but i think it's not too distracting

horror is my favorite, like he's just enjoying himself in the back its kinda sad i had to hide him behing both his drums & killer, i might post a version w/out it to show it off the drums were a pain in the ass ngl, i've never played them so i had to look at a lot of references in the end i just drew a basic drum set w/ the colors on the ref (red & gold), i added silver for the metal bits bc it's everywhere in the other's designs his design itself is unchanged, i just thought having him in red only felt boring so i added orange to his fur & shirt

i realized too late i couldn't show dust's head w/ the pose i drew T-T also drew his entire outfit then had to hide half of it because of his guitare this is why planning is important people his guitare rocks tho (pun intended) i tried to make him red & purple to match his eyes, but currently it's more of an orange salmon color w/ a dark grey pink eeeh the intent is there i guess i made his gloves fingerless cuz you can't tell me this dude plays guitare w/ full on gloves like i know they're skeletons but that's physically impossible i also added a strap to his guitare cuz unless he's using blue magic, he probably can't keep it up w/ only his right hand

Holiday Hell: Part 2

“Mnnnn fffkkkk! cccnnnn iii cmmmmm?” a bound and gagged Hazel moans through her gag as April continues to ram harder into her lovers pussy! Looking out the window as she pounds the poor pussy beneath her the notices the sun has started going down, glancing at the clock the confirms the time as 5pm, almost puzzled as April could have sworn she had only been fucking Hazel for 30 minutes but apparently its been a solid 2 hour fuck with her mindlessly slowing her thrusts down to keep Hazel at the end of release the entire tine, almost automatically, having a chuckle April impressed herself at the woman below her, sweat covering every inch of her body and not a single orgasm to show for it. Leaning in the remove the pesky gag Hazel lols her jaw around for a moment before begging.

“please M-Mistress, p-please let me cum..” the blind beauty says with a ragged breath.

Leaning nice and close, lips almost touching Hazels ear, “You asked for it.” she says with a smile.

Gripping Hazels hips with both hands her cock slams once again inside the gushing pussy, completely intent on breaking it with the orgasm its going to have, thrust after thrust into Hazels body she can feel her orgasm building as her mistress grinds her hips in at each thrust. Moving a hand to the poor bound clit April begins to rub it between thrusts with her thumb, knowing just what to do to get her little bound sub cumming hardest. In anyone else's hands it wouldn't be as easy but in the hands of her mistress she was mere putty, and with the fucking and clit rubbing combination she's brought to orgasm only seconds later, April quick to cover her mouth turning what would have been a loud scream to a muffled cry as Hazels legs tense up noticeably.

Giving Hazel a kiss on the lips at first the 2 women lock lips  as their tongues dance in each others mouths, Aprils cock still nuzzled deep in Hazels pussy, any real cock would surely have cum many times by now, but this lovely toy would never soften, almost always to the benefit of Hazel as it usually ends up buried deep in her pussy. Continuing the kissing April rolls over expecting Hazel to follow to continue the kiss, pausing mentally to remind herself that Hazel physically cant move to follow no matter how much she wanted to kiss her, instead she raised a eyebrow and removed the strap on, she other lips that could do with some action.

Shuffling over Hazels blind head she slowly lowers herself onto her bound lovers face, instantly Hazel gets to work by pushing her tongue straight into her wet pussy, her chin grinding against her clit every time her jaw moved to allow her own tongue access to the sweet bud before diving deep again. April raised her hands up and ran them through her hair in a pleasurable stretch before reaching up and leaning forward, there's a empty pussy for her to snack on now, and she knows for a fact its hypersensitive. A simple probing with her tongue delivers the gasp of surprise and arousal from between her lets and she continues her ventures between the bound open legs. “a 69 among 69′s” April though to herself.

Deliberately edging Hazel with her tongue she cums all over her blindfolded face and rolls off her and stands up and looks down at Hazels face, her cum sticking to her face, covering her mouth while a bright red pussy rests between her legs, a heavy orgasm followed by a edge, nasty way to keep her horny she walks back beside her and pushes a dildo gag in Hazels mouth and ties it in, standing back yet again to watch her dear sub suck on the dildo locked in her mouth she smiles at her exhausted handiwork and moves to sit down and relax abit but is stopped at a knock at the door.

Walking over to the door April asks “Who is it?”

“A complementary room service, from the manager” a man responds.

Looking over her shoulder at the bound Hazel on the bed she makes a point to not open the door too wide, but as she begins to open the door the man pushes in and closes it behind him, sweeping April off her feet and onto the floor with a hand covering her face, her bare breasts pressing into the carpet she feels a sharp sting in her bare ass and moments later the world goes black..

Waking up to the sounds of muffled screams April opens her eyes to something new to her, she is bound with her arms behind her back, breasts pushed out with her legs tied over the arms of the chair, effectively pinning her in a horribly exposed position, though her situation isn't as bad as Hazels as the man who tied April up is currently fucking her lover on the bed, still bound just like she left her, gagged and blindfolded she clearly knows that this isn't her mistress inside her, as she is shaking her head as best she can as she screams dully into her gag, white cum leaking out of her pussy, the man has clearly been in her for a while before she woke up. Hands squeezing her breasts, Hazel moans as another orgasm crests and runs out her pussy as the man leans in, his beard brushing her neck as he sinks in and begins biting at her, pulling squeaks from the poor bound woman. Grunting as he continues to thrust inside Hazels pussy he leans in close and grunts out.

“Guh! cumming here was a great idea huh ladies! bet you were just waiting for me to fuck your cunts!” Drawing muffled screams from both bound women.

“I'm going to enjoy fucking you 2 bitches, i suggest you relax and it'll feel better!” He grunts out as he puts another load of cum into Hazels pussy.

Pulling his cock out of Hazels pussy he turns and locks eye with April for a moment and then gazes at her breasts then further down to her tight pussy, taking a few steps forward he lowers himself and lines his cock up and with little warning he thrusts into the fresh pussy at his disposal. Grunting like a animal again as his cock drags almost all the way out only to thrust deeper inside Aprils pussy, her head launching back over the chair as the sensations mount and she can feel her impending orgasm at the hands of this monster.

“Fucking hell! Tiny Tits over there was a fun fuck but your tight cunt takes the cake! i guy could get used to this!” He said with a laugh as his cock slides in and out of April with practiced ease.

“fuck it, i think ill keep you both! got a nice house with some lovely cages, you slaves are going to love it!”

Hazel and April both turn their heads at the word “slaves” as he pulls out of April and gets dressed before taking the key to their room and walking out, April taking the time to look over her brutally raped lover, bite marks all over both breasts and cum leaking out of her pussy she swallows knowing that she will likely receive the same treatment.

Waiting only a few minutes the monster of a man returns with 2 large bags, big enough to fit a human inside with room to stuff other things in too, looking up to April he simply says “for later” which made her skin crawl at which he returned his clothes to the floor and looked around the room, easily finding the bag with the toys inside he pulls a roll of tape and the Hitachi from their bag and walks over to April who begins to struggle harder in her bondage as he places the head of the Hitachi against her clit and wraps tape around the handle then her thighs, locking it against her clit. Turning the Hitachi on a teasingly low speed he stands up and turns around, setting his sights on Hazels pussy once again.

Walking over the the unsuspecting woman on the bed Hazel begins pulling against the ropes in earnest as her thigh receives a hard slap, leaving a handprint on her tender innermost thigh he moves up and slaps her stomach 3 times to gauge her reaction, clearly enjoying his newfound toys he pushes his cock once again into Hazels dripping pussy and proceeds to thrust into her while squeezing her breasts hard, paying close attention to her nipples which he pinches hard forcing a muffled screech from Hazel while April helplessly watches as her own torment begins to take its toll as her clit is stimulated with no way out and a potential orgasm hours away at this speed.

A whole Hour passes as April watches on as her closest friend is raped right in front of her while her own torment is distracting her from focusing on a solution, the man had fucked Hazel so much he decided a power nap would be his best call, sleeping on top of Hazel with his hard cock still deep in her pussy, keeping all his cum trapped inside as she moans beneath the large man. April struggling to get a grip and ignore the vibrations assaulting her clit but its ultimately impossible as she cums at last and after another 30 hellishly teasing minutes the man wakes up.

Looking out the window its dark now, dark enough the man assumes as he begins to open up 1 of the bags and gathers a few dildos and vibrators and walks back to April with the toys in hand, removing the Hitachi and turning it off he instead pushes a large dildo up her pussy, and another in her ass, a bullet vibrator is taped to her clit and nipples and her legs are then untied. Kicking wildly but uselessly as the man easily subdues Aprils attempts and ties her legs together then forcing her into a ball and adding tape to completely seal her in a ball and turn her vibrators on before picking her up and placing her in the bag and zipping her up in darkness.

Turning to the bound and still blind and mute Hazel the man slowly unties and reties her in a tight ball and fills her holes with her own vibrators, turning them on her loads her into the other bag and covers her in the remaining toys they brought with them and zips her up. Lifting both bags the man walks down the hallway with his 2 prizes and out the front door, no one would even know they were gone till they were surely lost. Out the front door they are loading into the boot of a car and taken away, likely a life of pleasure and hellish pain awaits them both and April starts to cry, some holiday this turned out to be..

I Could’ve Danced All Night [RadioDust]

[Read on AO3]  CW: Blood, knifeplay Summary: Alastor goes to a strip club looking for a victim and ends up finding something very different. It turns out Al and Angel Dust are fucked up in similar (or complementary) ways, and Alastor doesn't know how to handle 'clicking' with someone like this. (RadioDust Week day 1: dancing)

— — –

It began with a dance.

The music wasn’t of the sort Alastor typically enjoyed. Too much bass. No feeling in the composition. Mindless, almost, there for one purpose and one purpose alone—though he supposed he shouldn’t expect much more from a strip club. Besides, it served its purpose well enough; the dancers on stage certainly used the rhythm to their advantage.

Alastor sat on the far left side of the room, simply waiting and observing, keeping an eye out for a potential target. There was a girl strutting and preening on the stage nearest him, but she was focusing her attention on the other men in the area, likely unnerved by his smile. That was fine. She was too meek to be a satisfying kill.

It didn’t much matter to him exactly what type of demon he wound up leaving with: a patron, a bartender, maybe even one of the limber performers. Every person’s death was unique, so it wouldn’t do to count anyone out based on conditions like that. All he really wanted was an individual, someone singular, someone who stood out. And then he planned to spend the entire night exploring exactly how that individual responded to fear, to pain, to panic. The thought had him almost giddy with excitement.

“All right, you filthy fuckin’ sinners,” a gravel-voiced demon announced from somewhere unseen, “how many of you ever seen an angel up close?” A lascivious cheer raised in many of the patrons, but Alastor was puzzled by the phrasing. Surely they couldn’t mean an actual angel. Was it even possible for one of them to survive in Hell? Now that would be an interesting target. “Give it up for the hottest piece of ass in Hell, Angel Duuust!”

The music kicked up louder still as, on the stage in the very center of the room, yet another scantily-clad demon descended into view, spiraling down one of those poles to stop just inches from the floor in a dramatic pose that sent the audience into a frenzy yet again. Not a real angel, clearly, but an interesting figure nevertheless.

He—at least Alastor assumed the demon was a man based on his body language and general lack of curves—was a tall, spindly creature with two sets of arms and legs for miles. A gold tooth glinted in his sharp smile as he danced, and it was obvious from his playful demeanor that he was perfectly at home in this position. And the way he moved… Alastor had trouble taking in every aspect of the performance at once, his eyes lingering on one hand running through Angel Dust’s hair while the others slid slowly down his slender legs. Then all four hands grasped the pole again to fling the dancer’s lithe body around it in another quick spiral.

Oh yes, that was very promising. The entire performance was meant to arouse desire in the viewer, and while it wasn’t of a sexual sort, Alastor’s interest was piqued nevertheless. From the sound of things, this Angel Dust was a popular performer, meaning it would be noticed if/when he disappeared. But that had never stopped Alastor from pursuing what he wanted in the past.

When the song finished (in a manner of speaking, as the music here seemed to be unending), Angel Dust strolled around the perimeter of the stage collecting tips from his audience, pausing here or there to reward individual patrons with a come-hither smile or a stroke of their cheek. So that was the way to get his attention. Fair enough.

As he sauntered across the catwalk that led from the center stage to the one along the far wall, Alastor produced his wallet and tossed a handful of bills at the feet of the dancer in front of him, not making any particular effort to connect with her. Unfortunately, this little stunt had an unexpected side effect; like sharks smelling blood, the dancers saw him so blithely spending money and swarmed him immediately.

“How are you over here all alone, handsome?”

“Is that mean ol’ Stella ignoring you?”

“If you wanted company, you could’ve just asked.”

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, another on his arm, a third even so bold as to stroke up his knee, and he struggled not to show how uncomfortable he was with suddenly being crowded and touched without his consent.

“Ahem. You girls are lookin’ pretty thirsty,” a new voice said, and Alastor looked up to find none other than Angel Dust gazing down at them from the stage. The previous girl was now gathering up her tips to move elsewhere. “Why don’tcha go get a drink? My treat.”

Although the other dancers seemed put off by his interruption, they didn’t argue, one by one taking their hands from Alastor’s body and stalking off toward the bar. “Sorry about that,” Angel Dust added, his eyes sweeping curiously up and down the Radio Demon as he gracefully sank to his knees. “Some gals don’t know how to read between the lines, y’know?”

“And you do?” Alastor didn’t even try to pretend he was looking over every inch of the demon in front of him—but then, that was probably what he wanted.

“Sure. Like I can tell by lookin’ at ya that you wouldn’t be satisfied with just any girl. I get the feelin’ your tastes are a little more…” He licked his fingertips and ran them lightly down the center of his chest with a knowing smirk, posing to display his lengthy figure. “Exotic.”

Oh, you have no idea.

“And what gives you that impression?”

“Well, you were watchin’ me awful close in my first dance,” Angel Dust pointed out, lifting two of his hands in a shrug while the other two moved along the shape of his body. Seeing the mild surprise on Alastor’s face at having been caught staring, he laughed. “Eyes like yours are kinda hard to miss in a dark room. And I’ve gotten pretty good at noticin’ when someone wants me. So what is it you want, baby?” While he awaited an answer, he rested his hands on the stage and leaned forward, showcasing the unusual curves of his chest.

“Now that would be telling,” Alastor teased, fishing another twenty out of his wallet.

“All right, play hard to get if ya want.” The dancer’s two-toned eyes were fixed on the money in his hands. “How about your name? Will ya tell me that?”

“Alastor.” He offered the bill folded between two fingers, but when Angel Dust reached for it, he pulled away. “Say it for me, would you?”

Though he looked surprised by the request, he still obliged, dropping his voice slightly and purring in return, “Alastor.” His voice was nice enough. Something about the sound, in fact, was enough to send a surprising chill through the Radio Demon’s body.

“Once more?” he prompted, his own volume lowering a bit.

Angel Dust leaned closer still, enough that he was on his hands and knees and leaning off the edge of the stage, and moaned breathlessly, “Alastor.” Suppressing another chill, Alastor surrendered the money without further argument, and a pleased smirk curled the dancer’s lips as he took it. “I’m Angel. And hey, if ya like hearin’ it that much, maybe stick around after my shift’s over and we can talk in private.”

“Is that so?” He’s making this entirely too easy. “You may want to be more careful about making offers like that, cher. You’re certain to get more than you bargain for someday.”

“Mm, you promise?” Angel asked mischievously, his eagerness not fading in the slightest as he got to his feet again. “Hey, I’m a big boy; I can take care of myself. I’d be more worried about whether you can keep up with me.”

Well, he’d never been able to resist a challenge. “I suppose we’ll have to find out, then.”

“I suppose we will.” At the sound of some drunken demon from another table obnoxiously demanding Angel’s attention, his smile soured into a pout, and Alastor’s eyes flashed with irritation. Clearly, Angel had done an admirable job of catching his attention; he now couldn’t imagine leaving with anyone else. “If you’re interested, meet me out back at one fifteen.” With a wink in Alastor’s direction, he strolled delicately down the stage to meet the lummox who had called for him, planting his hands on his hips and playfully chastising the other demon for his impatience.

The following two hours were torture, and Alastor enjoyed every anticipatory moment. He remained where he was, absently tipping whichever dancer happened to be in front of him at the moment, but his eyes stayed on Angel as he worked the room. Not once but twice more, Angel was called to center stage for a feature dance of his own, and both times, he stole a glance or two in Alastor’s direction to be sure he was still watching. Which he was. Intently.

The club closed at 1 a.m., and Alastor did as instructed, going around the back of the building to find out exactly what ‘talk in private’ translated to. Unfortunately, it seemed that some other demons had a similar idea, as he found two of them waiting under the light of a yellow halogen bulb when he arrived. Noticing them watching him warily, he gave them a winning smile and a polite nod. “Gentlemen.”

One of them seemed fully ready to ignore him, but the other narrowed his eyes. “You were the one takin’ up all Angel’s time earlier,” he growled. Alastor only then recognized him as the same brute who had stolen Angel’s attention before. Quite a forgettable face, apparently.

“We spoke, yes. Is that a problem?”

“Only if you think you’re takin’ him home.” The other demon took a step closer, drawing his shoulders back, trying to come off as imposing. Still drunk, clearly. “I been savin’ up for weeks to get him to myself, and no bowtie-wearin’ radio talk show host is gonna steal him out from under me.” He grasped a handful of Alastor’s coat, and the Radio Demon’s smile broadened into something menacing.

“My friend, I’m going to allow you five full seconds in which to remove your hands from my person and yourself from my sight before you lose something much more valuable than a single night of good company.”

“Oh yeah? What the fuck are you gonna do to make me?”

“Four,” Alastor answered simply. Really, the restraint he showed by offering this grace period was impressive in itself. “Three.”

“Uh, Tino, maybe you should listen to him, man,” the remaining demon said as he noticed the shadows lengthening across the ground, darkness edging into the halo of light around the club’s back door.

“Two.”

“Fuck this.” Tino had apparently gotten fed up with the countdown, but as he drew back a fist and Alastor reached ‘one,’ the light snapped out, just long enough for the shadows to overtake both Tino and his companion. Alastor didn’t bother taking extra time to savor their deaths. They were meaningless, nothing but an obstacle to what was sure to be the most enjoyable night he’d had in years. He crushed them and dropped their bodies into the dumpster against the wall without so much as a hair out of place.

When the light flickered back to life, he had managed to contain himself into a veneer of nonchalance. Consider this an appetizer, he told himself. And indeed he was only that much hungrier for something with more substance.

It was actually closer to 1:30 when Angel finally exited the club, but when he saw Alastor there, he smiled brightly. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, now dressed in a scant mini dress and half-jacket, still showing off his shape nicely. “So let’s talk prices before we go any further.” Alastor listened with vague interest as he explained how much his ‘company’ would cost per hour, which acts would cost extra, etc., and he agreed to all of it. He could afford the cost if necessary, but that wasn’t how he planned for the night to end.

He then led the way to the hotel room he had booked for exactly this purpose, Angel clinging to his arm and making all sorts of suggestive comments, none of which really did much for him. Once they were inside and Alastor locked the door behind them, Angel shed his jacket and set it aside along with his purse. “So where d’ya want me, handsome? Right here against the wall? Bent over the table? Ooh, maybe out on the balcony where anyone could see?” It was difficult to tell how much of this was just teasing and how much was serious.

“Why don’t we start here?” Alastor gestured to the bed, and although Angel pouted over the vanilla selection, he sat down nevertheless. It seemed he was always aware of how to hold his body and how it looked, always keen on keeping his angles as attractive as possible. “Are there any ground rules you’d like to set? Boundaries?”

Angel laughed at that like it was a ridiculous question. “Nah, I’m down for pretty much whatever. Whatever you’re into, baby.”

“Really? No restrictions at all?” Alastor asked, raising an eyebrow at him. This was already going much smoother than usual; how could Angel so easily trust a man he’d only just met?

“Well, like what? Whaddaya have in mind?”

“Like pain,” Alastor answered readily enough. Sliding his fingers through Angel’s hair, he grasped a handful of it and tilted his head back, drawing a gasp from his lips. “Biting. Clawing. Cutting.”

“That’s…fine.” He leaned his head easily into Alastor’s touch, apparently willing, even eager, to be abused without protest. Another inexplicable shiver—of what? interest? excitement?—coursed through the Radio Demon’s body. Still, he managed to keep his voice even.

“What about being bound?”

“Yes, please,” Angel purred. “I told you, whatever you wanna do is okay. Just don’t keep me waitin’ all night.” He leaned closer, lifting his head, eyes locked on Alastor’s lips, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine what he wanted. So Alastor gave it to him. After all, how often was his prey so agreeable? Why not explore the more unusual aspects of the situation? Their lips met, and already his tongue was forcing its way into Angel’s mouth, tasting lemon and liquor from whatever cocktails he’d had earlier. Gradually, his blunt ferocity faded into something slower and easier, and his dancer-turned-escort treated him to soft whimpers and whines of desire.

“Uh. You…said somethin’ about tyin’ me up?” Angel mumbled, clinging to Alastor’s coat even as they separated. Something about the gesture felt very different from his experience with Tino earlier, so it didn’t bother him. He unknotted his tie and slipped it out of his collar, then knelt behind Angel to tie his wrists at his back. “Sounds like you’re gonna get a little rough. Maybe we should have a safe word?”

“No need,” Alastor answered, determining the best way to bind all four of Angel’s hands at once and making sure they were tied tightly. “If you want me to stop, just say so, and I will.” Or not. It would depend on how the evening went.

“Huh. What a gentleman.” Once Angel’s hands were bound, Alastor got up to shrug out of his coat and rolled his sleeves up, then turned the lights out to leave a single lamp in the far corner as their only illumination. Despite being so tall, Angel turned out to be surprisingly light, so rather than ask him to lie down, Alastor simply lifted him and then pushed him down against the bed on his back while his breath turned heavier with anticipation. He did look nice this way, sprawled and squirming, awaiting whatever Alastor chose to do with his body.

Part of his enjoyment typically came from his victim’s fear—but he supposed there was no need to rush. They would get there in due time. For now, he pressed his lips to Angel’s neck, kisses quickly turning rough and leading to bites that broke skin and drew blood. Angel shuddered and arched and groaned “fuck” under his breath but didn’t try to escape. His hips lifted slightly, so Alastor pressed them down with his own, enjoying the choked cry that fled his guest’s lips. His blood was hot, hotter than most, and delicious, but Alastor made a point of not lapping it all up, preferring to let some stain Angel’s skin and the sheets instead.

“Beautiful,” he purred, and he could’ve sworn an anemic blush painted Angel’s cheeks.

“Y-y’know,” he breathed, “you were kinda scarin’ me a minute ago. Talkin’ about ‘pain’ and all. But if this is the worst you got…” That almost sounded like a challenge. In fact, judging by the playful smirk curving his lips, it absolutely was.

“Careful what you wish for, cher.” Alastor’s hands slid up the sides of Angel’s thighs, underneath the hem of his skirt and up toward his hips, then dug his fingernails in and dragged them down roughly, forcing Angel’s hips closer to his own and coaxing a deep, tortured cry from his throat. Although visual art wasn’t typically Alastor’s genre of choice, he couldn’t help but appreciate the angry, stark red lines against Angel’s pale skin.

“More,” the dancer begged, pleading at Alastor with eyes hazed in lust or pain or distress; it was hard to say which. Regardless, it was compelling. Slipping a hand into his pocket, Alastor produced an ivory-handled switchblade knife, which he opened with the press of a button. This little blade had seen him through countless situations much like (yet far different from) this one, and it was still sharp as ever. Upon seeing it, Angel’s eyes grew wider, but he still didn’t protest, biting his lip and waiting to see what Alastor would do with it.

The Radio Demon was sure to take his time about this, first running the cool metal along the still-hot welts on Angel’s thigh to make him shiver. He then traced the edge very gently up Angel’s arm, but even this soft pressure was enough to break skin, leaving a thin, thin red line in its wake. The dancer took in a shuddering breath but tried his best to keep still, watching as Alastor ran his tongue along the wound, then sat up to kiss him again. Despite tasting his own blood, he participated as actively as before, even teasing a soft hum of pleasure from Alastor’s lips as well. He couldn’t help himself; everything about this moment was so strangely familiar yet new, so expected but not, and he found his feelings about it weren’t all the same as usual.

When the kiss ended, he slowly, lazily cut an X into Angel’s right shoulder, enjoying the way he shivered from the sensation. “It hurts,” the dancer whispered, so soft as to be almost inaudible. Still, his tone was unmistakable.

“And you like that?”

Again, he flushed slightly, and it wasn’t until Alastor held his chin and forced him to look up that he answered. “Yeah,” he confessed, his gaze shifting between the Radio Demon’s eyes and his lips. “Are you…actually gonna fuck me, or are you just gonna hurt me all night?”

Alastor recoiled slightly. At no point during all this had he seriously considered going through with anything sexual. He was there to satisfy a craving, certainly, but not that sort. This was a game, a farce, nothing but a way of extending his devious enjoyment of his victim’s pain. So what was it in him that wanted to say yes, to pin Angel down against the bed and make him scream in a different way?

“Didn’t you say there were no rules?” he prompted, trying to brush those thoughts away and focus.

“Sure. It’s just…now I’m all worked up.” Looking up to meet his eyes, Angel admitted softly, “So I want it.”

Every moment this went on, every moment that Alastor enjoyed the pain he was inflicting and the moans that came with it—knowing the pleasure was mutual and that Angel wanted it too—served to further cloud his mind about exactly what he was doing. This wasn’t supposed to be enjoyable. It wasn’t supposed to be something his victim wanted more of. And worse yet, he wasn’t supposed to like fulfilling their wishes. It was meant to be him taking satisfaction in the suffering of another. Something about this night had thoroughly thrown off that formula.

Trying to move past it and away from all those confusing should-be’s, he sat up slightly and dragged the knife to the juncture of Angel’s neck and shoulder instead, cutting in slightly and watching the dancer—no, his victim—flinch. “H-hey, not there,” Angel finally protested, trying to move away but more or less trapped against the bed by Alastor’s body. “Anywhere below there’s okay, but—”

“Oh, but I thought you liked this, cher,” Alastor insisted, trying to find his way back to the cold and detached tormentor he typically embodied in these moments. His blade moved higher still, closer to Angel’s throat, and he relished the more panicked squirming of his prey’s body.

“I’m serious.” Angel’s voice quavered with nervous fear as he tried to draw away. “Alastor. Stop it.”

“What, does this cost extra?” the Radio Demon chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay whatever you like.” The tip of his knife came to rest just under Angel’s chin, where his pulse was visibly pounding, and he stretched his head as far away as possible. This would be the easiest solution to the confusion that had come with this night. Just end it quickly. Cut right here, only an inch or two, and watch his life spill onto the sheets. No more questions. No more doubt. Just enjoy it for what it is and then on to the next.

“Look, if you’re trying to scare me, it’s working. I get it, okay? You win. Just stop.” The discomfort in his voice was frustrating, in a way. He’d been responding so positively all night, yet now was the moment he faltered? It was much easier to believe that Angel was doing something wrong than that Alastor’s change in behavior had frightened him. As Alastor pressed down on the knife, ready and willing to put all this behind him, Angel snarled and coiled up his legs. “I said, get off!”

His feet planted against Alastor’s chest and kicked, hard, much harder than expected, forcing the Radio Demon to stumble backward off the bed. When he managed to right himself, he realized Angel Dust had sprouted a third set of arms and was trying to use them to unbind his others. There was fear visible in his eyes, but more than that, there was anger. Good. He was indignant, willing to fight. Good. It began with a dance. It should end with a dance.

“Who’s the one playing hard to get now, cher?” Alastor asked with a wicked grin, pouncing on the bed to pin his playmate down again. This part, he could do without thinking, by reflex, which made it much simpler. As he tried to plunge his knife into Angel’s chest, however, the dancer twisted away at the last moment and the blade was buried in the mattress instead.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Angel hissed, still struggling to free his arms.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t been enjoying my attention, chéri. Now hold still so I can give you more.” Grabbing up his knife again, he started to attack—but Angel was ready this time and delivered a surprisingly solid kick to his jaw. Apparently, those boots were more functional than they looked. Even as Angel finally got his hands free, Alastor managed to recover and force him down on his back again.

Then something unexpected happened. After a moment of futile struggling and realizing he wasn’t strong enough to break free, Angel met Alastor’s eyes for the briefest moment, then sat up and kissed him again. This reaction came by reflex as well, and he found himself delving deeper into the kiss, as close to ‘turned on’ as he’d ever been before. Angel shoved at his shoulders, rolling them over as one so he was kneeling over Alastor’s hips.

Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible turn to take, Alastor supposed as his hands slid up the dancer’s thighs again. Maybe he could be satisfied with a different form of pleasure, as long as Angel was willing to—

He broke off the kiss with a gasp at the feeling of cold metal against his throat. Angel remained close, still panting against his lips, but his eyes had turned cold. He had apparently retrieved the weapon Alastor had absentmindedly discarded while they kissed, and he now held it firmly to the Radio Demon’s neck.

“Get your hands off me,” he growled softly, and Alastor obeyed without a word.

Somehow, he found himself at a loss. Maybe he was disappointed in himself for being distracted so easily. Maybe he was subdued by the warmth of Angel’s body or the sight of him—still bleeding, flushed, panting hard—or the knife held to his jugular. Whatever the reason, the fight had left him altogether and he was now just a bit bemused.

“Now fuckin’ stay there,” Angel ordered. He shoved away to get to his feet, keeping his eyes on Alastor and a tight grip on the knife. While the Radio Demon watched, he stepped back toward the table where Alastor’s coat had been discarded, then rooted through it for a moment to find (of course) his wallet. It was almost disappointing to see him back away to retrieve his own jacket and purse, then head for the door.

Was that it? All this excitement, then he just took his payment and left? Was this how most sex workers felt about their own encounters? And why didn’t Alastor make more of an effort to stop him? Was he an Overlord or wasn’t he? If he’d tried, he could have easily overpowered the slender Angel Dust, regardless of whether he had two hands or ten. Yet there he lay, on his back, on the bed, watching his would-be victim shrug his jacket back on and walk to the door.

“Guess you couldn’t keep up after all,” Angel sighed, standing in the doorway and combing mussed hair out of his eyes with his free hand. “Too bad; I was havin’ fun there for a minute. See ya around, Al.” With this, he flung the knife expertly across the room to stick into the mattress between Alastor’s legs. Was it a trick of the light, or was he actually smirking as he left the room and pulled the door shut behind him?

Alastor let his head drop back against the bed. Well. That certainly was an experience. It was the first time in his long and colorful career that any victim had successfully escaped him. There were those who fought, perhaps, but none who had ever won. Yet Angel had caught onto…whatever it was that made this night different from all the others, well and truly ruining Alastor’s chances of regaining control.

He could try again, tonight or some other night. But now, he found, he no longer wanted Angel dead. He still wanted something, but he wasn’t entirely sure what. No, Angel had said the word himself. More. Whatever bizarre tango they had just performed, Alastor needed an encore. Next time, he told himself, he would be better prepared. And he had no doubt that Angel would find a way to throw off his rhythm nevertheless.

Uhm??????? Unacceptable?? Please tell me more about your OCs in that last art? I demand it? I want a full report on my desk before morning? Cite your sources please?

Oh no,, you’re asking,,, about my own faves,,, sorry to everyone, but I guess im never going to shut up ever now. (i already don’t shut up ever, what have u done, im now going to speak so much that society will collapse AT LEAST)

But for real. I enjoy pretending I don’t have faves, I love all my kids the same, buT WE ALL KNO THAT’S A LIE, those two my fave bitches (they snatched that title from the last two faves, rip to them, and they also snatched, n I must really make that clear, the title of “the bitches with the most AUs from the previous previous faves. Their power.)

SO. Get ready for a ride, table of content: them, their respective character, their story, and the pLETHORA OF ALTERNATE STORIES I GAVE THEM because i must yell about all the versions of my kids i have (non-exhaustive cause its that serious bro, but ill take extra time for the universe depicted in that art just for u bby). (tbh if clamp is allowed to sprinkle their fave gays in all their universes so am i, except they aint secondary characters there, every story is just theirs. love that concept.)(itll be so long you’re getting a whole novel even if i have to post it in two posts)

So~ Em twos. Dari n Wei-wei as I call em, or Dumbass n Egg if you wanna get friendly.

They’re my proudest instance of “oops i made a squad of characters, and two of them just accidentally were so perfectly compatible and complementary oh no I guess they’re in love now.” And then they became my favourite. Cause I guess their potential was too much (jk its bc they hot)

cuties.

I spent ten minutes wondering which to introduce first cause dang son, I want to talk bout them both so much shefjgfdg

First, as I technically designed him first (like ten minutes before the other), my man weiwei. if u ever saw my art its impossible that you havent seen him at least once. cause i’m legit always drawing him. cause im in love bro.

Demonstration : here are my computer scribbled weiweis of 2020 so far (with a few daris there n there they’re a package deal), that i could find, and they do not include all the paper sketches that i’m too lazy to take pics of. (i just been drawing him with so much hair these days that’s illegal, his brand is baldness)

But anyway, he’s CHEN Chia-Wei, he’s 21, he’s Taiwanese n I love him. Two very important facets of his character when you meet him: he doesn’t talk, and is absolutely, in every single dimension, built to make you fall head over heels for him.

He’s (in the “canon” storyline if i may call it that since it’s def not my most developed one but oh well) an art student, mostly paints but is also great at photography and videography (his vibe is busy hectic pieces with strong bold colours, lots of harsh edges, and very people focused).

Aside from that, he’s also super into fashion, and because he’s part of the rich boy squad (the “im broke so im giving half my characters wealth in compensation) he Can and Does exhibit some quite funky fits when he feels like it. (maybe a reason I draw him a lot, since my fave thing is pretty boys in weird ass clothes)(and then i also draw him in just casual shit cuz tittiful men in plain white tees you know. there’s just something about it.)

Small compilation of outfits. ft me and my band handwriting roasting outfits that id also kill to own but ok u know.

He digs music. (i make playlists for my OCs and i gotta say, his is the best one, i spent so many hours researching it, “arranging” it etc n its still a work in progress but dude. she got many moods my fave part is when it suddenly turns into so many cheesy ballads also she’s enormous cause im as wordy in playlists as I am in writing.) listens to a lot, n also he can play piano n guitar. cause you know. heartthrobs got to win your heart with a song (and if he’s alone he can even mumble some songs, who knows maybe even sing em softly, definitly a sight to stumble on accidentally). Big main artists that have his vibes are Hello Nico, No Party for Cao Dong, n Circa Waves’s “what’s it like over there” album.

He does a lot of sports. He ain’t fit through magic, rip to him. He’s got a serious routine, and it’s a time he likes to use alone, cause nothing like running at the break of dawn, alone with your thoughts, which you can just easily forget through the exhaustion of a workout session afterwards.

he also eats. A lot. Food is just good, bro. (the canon story is def happening some place europe aka his biggest struggle is how expensive food is here. outrageous.)

He secretly loves super cheesy movies. the dramatic romcoms??? the cute shows that are just so cute and worriless?? anything involving soulmates??? yeh dude. he watches it, he reads it, he listens to it, and he may cry about it, but no one will know. That’s the one true guilty pleasure. (and he definitly has a collection of romance dvds, books n manhuas in his old room back at the family home. where no one can see it. perks of studying abroad. no one can see ur hoarding of material that clashes your image. “yes i watch edgy experimental things haha yes i love those smart people movies of course wow the philosophy…” and then immediatly goes to watch the trashiest predictable but oh so sweet dramas all night)

While he doesn’t speak (as in with the mouth) he can communicate in a bunch of language, due to having moved around quite a bit. On top of his native mandarin and hokkien, he’s fluent in English, so he can use those to write, and is also fluent in TSL, and pretty good in HKSL (and from that, other close-in-syntax sign languages). So he doesn’t have trouble getting around, but then he is also overall quiet in public (with close friends and over text though, that’s another story, that’s where he gets chattier, and also where you may get more of his true personality). Also, he can speak with his sister. That’s pretty cool bro.

I was going to say he’s a very “hides his true colours under a shell” type of character but you know, for an egg character, that’s pretty ironic. We love poetic cinema.

He presents himself as a very laid back, chill detached dude, going with the flow and all that great stuff, and masterfully mixes just the right doses of mysterious, flirty and calm to just go around vibing. But ain’t that jUST THE MILLENIAL’S ILLNESS, those dANG KIDS, going around, gettin relationships but never intimacy 👏😢 (there’s more to it dont leave)

First of all, before you see the Drama, the Turmoil, the first thing you notice when you really do befriend him is that he’s c h i l d i s h, he gets sulky when things dont go following the plan, he gets whiny n jealous for not getting attention , he gets competitive over stupid challenges, and way too playful if you start teasing, and when he gets flustered too…you think you get cool stoic dude but actually you get a dude who’s reacting to things with way too much intensity, and boi i thought u were gon be mature what’s that why have you been pouting for three days over losing a bet come on- That’s mostly coming up when he interacts with his sister, but the closest you are to him to more of it you get to see.

He’s also an affectionate dude actually. Like physically. As in you’ll get spontaneous hugs. He’s come nap on your shoulder. That’s a perk of befriending him if you ask me.

Also he tries to look so cool, so tough haha. He’s actually a lil sensitiv boi. he gets fluffy, he gets flustered, he heart eyes. you turn around and he’s gazing at ya as if you were the whole universe. he gets a mini crisis for holding hands with his crush. ya know. he’s secretly a softie.

nerd.

Then in the “what he doesn’t show” (my fave part), where you stock all the anxieties, all the trauma… Obviously there’s a lot of anxiety here (selective muteness being a symptom of it, he hides the other ones very well) mostly fear of inadequacy, of abandonement and of loneliness. mmmmmmmaybe that’s why he was v reticent to continue pursuing that one guy he was into when he realised he was just a tad too into him oh no is that some,, like?? some lovey-love?? cant have that im afraid of gettin heartbroken bro. Aint that sad for a someone who’s one true goal is just findin someone to love and to be with forever, the struggles of yearnin for a soulmate when there’s nothing you fear more than getting attached to a person and letting them see you and your flaws.., delicious.

Now tho (because its so alone speaking about a character on their own and i just wanna get to the part where i can speak bout em together and how they bring out bits of each others ya kno, the good kush….), Dari…

He’s pretty, i must say, and got the funniest hair to draw, and comes from the most opposite background to weiwei’s.

Darian Andriev PARVANOV, also 21, comes from the remote Bulgarian countryside, but i still love him (this makes it sound as if i wouldnt normally love someone from the bulgarian countryside. its not what i meant. by default ud remind me of my son so you’d start being liked if u came from the bulgarian countryside) Now for the first instance of “wow, the complementarity”. The first thing i thought making Dari was that he looked too cool, and that he obviously was a dumbass, and mostly that he was physically unable to shut up. (o fuck he’s me)

best picture i could find of him. He’s got the dilemma of “wow he looked so pretty n cool until he opened his mouth” 

He’s ALSO an art student (cause they were initially created for the purpose of filling the gap of “i have ocs in every field except the one i sorta know that’s so stupid”), painting major (def vibes differently than weiwei though, he’s doing those soft pretty landscapes n flowers, everything real pretty and peaceful, we got some impressionism nerd in here folks). 

He was/is a real country boy, farm family, he helped tend the fields, he worked in plantations for pocket money, he knows how to take care of cattle and chicken and goats and all the cool babies you can take care of, he can tell whether the soil is good or not, he can drive a tractor, and doesnt fear dirt.

but then also he’s kind of a neat freak, he hates getting paint on himself, so the duality of man, dirt ok but paint? disgostin. his spaces are real neat and spotless, he likes cleaning (its relaxing) and does it nearly too often.

his dumbassery comes from lack of common sense and impulsiveness, aside from that he’s actually what you’d call “mad smart”, dude had em good grades, he can memorise pages upon pages of the most trivial information, he has an accumulation of knowledge beyond limits, and is good at problem solving. so he can recite all the words of the F letter of the dictionnary, but would also put a curling iron in his mouth to see if it would curl his tongue. (side note, he does have a problem with heat n fire, most his “oopsie how i wound up hurting myself on acccident” story involve burning -that stove was just too tempting…)

while he doesnt feel very attached to his home country, he does feel strongly for his family. he’d do anything for his mum (and actually does everything to make her proud already, that’s his one main goal), and he’s ready to sacrifice a lot for her (as in, spend years working non-stop a really uncomfortable job so his mother wouldnt have to pay a cent of his expenses even though she said she could by doing some sacrifices herself,and then being ready to come back as soon as needed if anything happened, and potentially drop his career and dream n go back to the farm life to provide for mama)(also he still does hold onto some parts of his home country’s traditions, and does sometimes feel homesick but more in a ‘i left the most beautiful landscapes n the city feels cramped and claustrophobic and i dont know people and i dont feel in the right place cuz im a forreigner with a thicc accent who doesnt master the language of this place and straight up have different body language communicators due to cultural difference oh lord i wanna be home where a nod means no and a head shake is yes i keep misunderstanding everything”)

if you want background noise he’s the perfect pal to call over, he’s just so chatty, he got hours and hours of non stop speech ready for you. you can shut him up once you’re done listening with the offering of food. works everytime.

he’s definitly not shy. neither in terms of talking to people, nor when it comes to making decisions. he’s quite bold, and rarely hesitates to go towards something he wants. he’s direct in his approach to most everything.

he likes partying. mostly the socialising part, talkin to people is just fun ya feel. and being in the crowd, doing whatever, pressure free? ya can dance n enjoy yourself, and people wont notice? yeah that’s nice. but doesnt do it super often cause broke bitches aint got the party time n budget. 

he likes arm. (just an excuse for me to drop this thing here cuz i like it)

While he’s an overall bubbly looking character, with a cheery loud personnality, he does carry some youth trauma that has him more reticent to engage in happiness, he comes from what you could call “not the wokest background” and he may have fallen victim of it : he’s kind of a flashy noticeable character, both physically and in his personnality, and doesnt exactly matches the expectations of dudes in the area he comes from (delicate, emotional and sweet guy? that doesnt exist bro). He went through it, and it has definitly had some impact on his confidence in many aspects. But he’s 100% the type of guy to put on the fake happy front because if feeling bad is sad, making the people you care about sad for you too is Unacceptable Right??? relying on friends?? what???

But then what are we supposed to be doing with such charming characters huh,,, 

Make them fall in love obviously.

Their story obviously has to do with falling in love and workin a relationship cause if I dont write romance i literally die, but I make the center pivot of all of it communication, and barriers in communications. Most obvious being them coming from wildly different cultures, having different native languages, and also the ways you adapt to muteness (what i love most bout that part is even then they fucked up given the easiest quickest small body language things to communicate are head nods n then i managed to make one come from the one country that reverses those like iconic how do they even understand each other -through a lot of work and love bro) but also on more “introspective” points, how to say things that you are even afraid to think about, how to open up and share your burdens and trauma with someone, how to say words you’ve been convinced you weren’t allowed to, the inner turmoil of communication in short. And then also communication through art, and through alternative unusual ways. If i were snobbish i could call it something like “a thinkpieces on how humans overcome obstacles in communication, and adapt, all for the sake of pursuing love” but fact is its mostly boys being in love n learning how to speak, figuratively and also quite literally. And also its me having fun with making characters evolve from each other, be able to influence each other for the better, helping each other be more comfortable with themselves and express the true things of their personnality, and discover new aspects. I just wanna write intense and soulful love bro.

So in less concept and more facts, weiwei meets dari, dari being his puppy self just immediatly strikes a conversation and weiwei gets interested cause “oho nice pretty boy? very good. i want some of that”. they get closer because you cant fight off the Power of friendship (and also the power of “what your friend is bestie with my friend?? guess we hanging out”) and then friendship and interest turns into pining, held back by respective dread of what romance with the other would mean (as in “romance?? cant have that we cant feel” and “with him?? cant do that, convince yourself he’s just a friend immediatly what would the family think”) but eventually they do have to just crash into one another cause that’s just the gravitational pull bro, its physics bro. and from then on its all unlearning destructive behaviours, bettering oneself with the help of the other, and getting over trauma to finally live ur best life. and gettin fckin married bro they’re both cheeseballs theyll wanna wed

BUT MAKING EM FALL IN LOVE ONCE ISNT ENOUGH time to make 3894853 alternate universes about em.

Lets speak bout my fave of those for a hot second.

First of all, the one of the art that brought this ask, guess i could call it “Pretty Tribes” AU, bunch of tribes live and do their things, having nature and energy powers. Dari n Weiwei’s tribes are bros, the latter’s powers needing them to move around to get energy from different places, enabling them different abilities. So basically they get to hang at the other’s place while the regenerate energy from there, and in exchange they help them out with various tasks (dari’s tribe is a rly farmer oriented one, with plant magic, while weiwei’s got more poyvalent powers, and have very good healers notably, so it comes in handy). The two boys were born a few months apart in their respective tribes, so naturally, anything the two clans meet, they’re put together to play and all, and from that they became besties, and each time they meet, after the gaps of time separating the two groups, they feel more and more of a little something else~ story is themed round growing up, friendship between clans, their traditions and cultures, and pretty boys in pretty clothes in pretty landscapes interacting with nature.

The superpower AU, i fuckin love it bro. Its an old one, made for other characters, but i just love it so much that i had to inject my faves in it. Its got a grimy ugly setting, bad government, propaganda, and fights between super-people (heavily mediatised for entertainment and reinforcing the idea that “look at these evil villains thank god us the good government protects you from them”), with a side of bad ethics in science. In all that, those two have the role of “those two young enemy warrior and villain, they were so powerful and fought so hard”, public figures, legendary and admired by both sides, everyone followed their fights, til one day they presumably died in one of their showdowns. (haha sike they actually found themselves talking for 5 seconds and realised they lived in a society, n built a plan to run away). The main characters get to find they’re alive because one of em had history with super-warrior-golden-boy and go to seek their help to overthrow the Big Bads. (stealing them from their nice gay cottage hermit life smh so rude)

Mermaids. I like those. Sailor weiwei sees merman dari, they both save each other in different occasions, they grow fascinated with each other, they’re at sea, water romance. Amazing. AU made half cuz i just like water n fish. and shirtless sailors.

(i couldnt find art of it in five minutes so have a link to that lil animatic piece i made of it once)

Indie band AU, where i was listening to songs that vibe so well with those two in general n then my brain was like “what if they’re the ones playing”. They’re (along with the rest of the art squad) a nice little alternative rock band, doing their thing, then one of their songs blows up, and they get quite the attention, to the dismay of dari who wrote that song in a moment of “oh no im so in love with my bandmate but i cant tell him what if i ruin everything we have going on ill just have to love from afar and deal with that” and now has way too many people interested in who he wrote it about and theorising from his every move when performing it (a mix of music, secret crushes and social media) (ft a picture of neither of them but its the least ugly art i found of this AU cuz its old and instruments are the bane of my existence)(also kelana is so pretty i gotta flaunt her around)

in kind of the same vibe, as in we’re in a music world overexposed to social media, i also integrated em to an AU i did for fun, “boyband AU” as its called aka idol based band system cuz you kno, i got a hobby, lets apply it. Band boy Dari and bodyguard Weiwei got a thing going on, but can’t really act on it in any way, because they’d just destroy the whole band if it ever came public. Featuring annoying bandmates, catchy pop songs and people making fanaccounts of that one hot Mr.Bodyguard cause dang he hot.

(all the art of this one so ugly im sorry)

SPY AU, one of my fave brand. They spies, they get assigned on the same mission, they work real nice with each other. spies hot. fights. strategy. i just like the concept. Gays taking down the worst traffics imaginable??? I love that song.(i actually have so much on this cause s p i e s are fuckin great)

Fashion. U kNOW i have an AU for fashion. Supermodel and his private stylist, trying to maintain the line of professionalism. And failing to do so. Lets make out in unpractical designer clothes.

Have an highschool AU for a bunch of characters, injected them as “spinoff”, start chatting online being art buddies, fall in love without meeting (ft. all the iconics of internet friendship like knowing tiny details of their personnalities but not the fact that they have a sister or “waIT ur a GUY i thought u were a girl wow wild good news for my gay ass”)

n those are my faves as far as i remember, i got a fuckton of small other ones that arent fleshed out enough, or some that are more of a guilty pleasure universe, and some that are more like “projects that i can expend on as soon as i run out of daydream material” (like u kno those hospital drama shows with super innacurate medicine n shit like idk scrubs or whatever, yeh i want some of that but im keeping it for later)

rubies and pearls

 from that silly indie quote about the sun loving the moon so much that it dies every night to let her shine, i present to you this: 

a sort of post-modern philosphical shitshow where neil panicking about the relevance of his existence in our universe is my constant state

this is also p similar to (but obviously not as good as the 180,525 words of) ‘The First Breath’ which is a good (amazing) fic i defs recommend 

Neil is a kinda generic term for what he is, but essentially, in the most simplistic, genial terms, he is Neil. Neil Josten, in all his glory. 

It’s strange how all the benevolent figures of this particular earthly plane have opped for such simple names. Like Matt, for example. Here he was, providing optimism and celebration to human kind, but he went ahead and named himself Matthew Boyd. 

And his love, Danielle Wilds. She was the embodiment of valour. And she insisted to go by Dan. 

Renee, Wymack, Allison, Seth, Aaron, Jean, Kevin, Jeremy, Nicky, Abby, Betsy, hell, even Riko. Though he supposed that it was ironic that the Japanese name meant truth, and he was consistently anything but. 

There were others, perhaps more unsavory, of whom Neil never tended to mention, and wholistically avoided when he could. They, too, had elicited for general names. Lola, Nathan, Mary. Seriously. Mary. 

They were practically what the humans called gods, the lot of them. But like: Also not like gods. Without them, the thing they represented would be obsolete, and humankind would no longer be capable of experiencing it. Some things such as fear (Nathan) and pain (Lola) would be rather beneficial to eradicate, but they fought tooth and nail, not only to exist, but to try and remove those who negated their particular characteristic.

Such as Neil. Neil was the embodiment of eternity, or immortality. Perhaps humans weren’t immortal, but he and his fellow benevolent beings were. He also immortalised memory, and how they (humans) could translate it into permanent forms. Books, scripts, art. More recently, the internet. 

So, being that Nathan and Lola drew satisfaction from the cruel shortening of human life, and Neil represented the extension of life, they did not get along. 

He clashed with paranoia (Mary) and sadism (Riko): Sometimes he and connection (Jeremy) fell upon disagreements, in that Neil was unable to immortalise humankind and Jeremy watched the relations he inadvertently formed crumble through the permanent separation of death. It wasn’t that Neil had anything against Jeremy. He was just awfully cheery. 

Then again, Matt often displayed similar qualities. Neil assumed he was more tolerable, due to the idea of perseverance that accompanied optimism. Neil could respect that. 

He respected forgiveness (Wymack) and transformation (Renee). He appreciated valour (Dan) and stubbornness (Allison), and whilst their personalities grated upon Neil, both regret (Seth) and doubt (Aaron) were necessary, too. Both healers, of mind and body (Betsy and Abby), were much needed too, but their disposition to smother Neil with affections was not appreciated. 

Neil rarely saw those he enjoyed the company of. His symbol was the moon, and thus night was his territory. It was also the territory of things most evil and threatening, and whilst Neil technically didn’t have to maintain his waking hours in the night (he just simply needed to exist), he tended to anyway. 

Perched upon the branch of a pine, he gazed upon the moon and the stars: His moon, and the trillions of stars that represented the other dimensions. He wondered how many of those had a Neil Josten, and if they were gazing upon him in similar fashion. 

“Neil,” Called a gentle voice, at the bottom of his tree. 

Neil sighed, slipping between the Unreal to appear beside Jean. 

It tended to spook those that weren’t used to his disappearing act. As the embodiment of immortality, and thus, basically the reason that all the other representatives existed, he could slip into the Unreal. It was essentially a strange goo that kept all dimensions together. You were not allowed to cross dimensions, or speak to the embodiments of eternity from other dimensions, but it wasn’t illegal to see one another from time to time. 

Jean was one of the few who he truly tolerated, and who truly tolerated him. Loneliness and eternity went pretty much hand in hand. Immortality was an isolating experience. 

“You have been quite absent for a while.” Jean offered as they walked. It was a trail in the Victorian Alps, at the base of Mount Hotham, in Australia. Australia was not as frequently visited by his fellow beings, in that there were less people in a large space. He frequented Mongolia, Russia and Canada for the same reasons. 

Other beings could not slip in and out of space, but time was still a loose thing. Jean could have walked for five minutes and crossed the pacific ocean that lay between California and Melbourne. He also, if he’d wanted to, have taken two hours. It was all relative. Neil wasn’t in charge of it, so he didn’t really care. When you’re immortal, time isn’t really a thing at all. 

“I have been busy.” Neil said, like he always said. “A cult attempting necromantics here, wars stealing young lives there, a general disregard for the rules of existence everywhere. I’m always busy, Jean. What is it that you want?”

“Irritable.” Jean decided. “Maybe you need to breathe, for a moment?”

Neil was pent-up, but he was always pent-up. Mary always tried to catch up with him, warning of prophecies and visions and happenings and things that would probably never happen. She wasn’t hard to shake off short-term, but she was impossible to get rid of entirely. Having paranoia chase after him like that wasn’t doing his seemingly eternal headache any favours. 

“Maybe you need to get your head out of your ass, and your ass out of California?” Neil offered. “Jeremy’s influencing you more than I thought he would.”

Jean only laughed softly. “You’re insufferable, Neil Josten.”

They walked further in comfortable silence. 

“Have you met with your sun yet?” 

Neil grimaced. He hated it when the sun was referred to as his. Just because they were complementary to one another did not result in Neil’s ownership of the being that symbolised the sun, or visa versa. Neil had never approached the man - or even asked for his name. He couldn’t imagine what the person that was supposed to oppose every aspect of Neil’s being would be like. Most likely, intolerable. He had heard enough about the man from whispers. 

“I do think that it would be beneficial to you.” 

“Is that Jeremy, speaking out of your mouth?” Neil grabbed Jean’s chin to pry it open. “Jeremy, are you there? What are you doing here?”

“Neil, stop it.” Jean was amused, but it slid back into his characteristic seriousness. “You cannot isolate yourself like this for much longer.”

“Says the embodiment of loneliness.”

“Yeah, which is why I know there’s an ache within you.” He frowned. “I thought you agreed that Jeremy and I made a logical pair.”

“Yes,” Neil admitted. “But that does not mean I will feel the same about my other half.”

“You’d be surprised.” Jean offered, the vagueness of his tone making Neil irritated. “You’re more alike than not.”

“Fuck off.” He said, decided. 

Jean simply smiled, his small, knowing smile. “You’ll see.”

Neil watched as he walked in the opposite direction when they approached a fork in the trail. He merely sighed, and retreated to the sanctity of the tallest tree branch. 

The first time Neil sees the man who represents the sun - protection and strength - it is by mistake. He is ambling along a crooked brick path in a small Chinese city by the name of Shijiazhuang as the night began to fade away, with hands in his pockets. He loves the smell of bing and liangmian and the anonymity of the hustle and bustle. He doesn’t have to present himself to humankind if he wishes not to, and in China, it is safer that way. His red curls would draw excessive attention, as would the scars and blue eyes. 

It’s why he likes America: He blends in regardless. If only there were less of his kind there. 

When he sees the man, he’s standing at the top of the city’s history museum, a grand building with a newly refurbished half. Ironic, really, when considering the age of the artifacts inside. 

Neil stands in the middle of the square, surrounded by pigeons as he watches the man. Smoke curls from his fingers, and his hair is illuminated like a halo in the rising sun. Behind him, the moon is sinking into irrelevance, and the stretch of sky between the two spheres is an incredible palette of rich purples and blues, and golden oranges and pinks. 

Distantly, Neil knows his moon is nothing compared to the sun. The sun is glorious. The moon is simply - eery. 

Neil knows he’s been seen by him by the curious tilt of his head. He vanishes. 

The second time is no accident: It is pure frustration. 

In the northernmost lands, sometimes there is no night. Neil sees how the humans grow exhausted, how the sun circulates endlessly without fail. Sometimes he thinks it’s selfish.

He tries to bring rest where he can, in the shadows of small homes dark enough to impersonate the night. When it does grow dark, he rewards their endurance with brilliant light shows in the sky.  

One evening, he has only an hour before the sun returns. Perhaps his irritation was palpable, because the man is at his side instantly. 

He, himself, seems slightly perturbed at his sudden appearance. Neil doesn’t usually summon fellow beings unless it is an urgent matter. He’s the only one who can. 

The man simply looks at him. He’s shorter than Neil, with eyelashes blonde like his hair. Snow rests gently upon the curves of his cheeks. It’s ethereal. 

“I cannot change the globe’s axis.” Was all he said. “Your frustration is leaking everywhere unnecessarily.”

Then he went to light a cigarette, and Neil stood beside him as they watched the sun rise once more.  

The third time was no accident, nor was it by chance: Riko was salivating where he stood towering over him, snarling with anger like a rabid dog. He was the embodiment of sadism and liked to watch mankind suffer, but he didn’t limit himself to just the humans. How he’d found Neil was a mystery, but he’d taken his chance.

Neil thought of Kevin (hubris) and his shattered hand. Kevin said Riko laughed as he’d cowered, and enjoyed snapping each of Kevin’s fingers. He knows what this man is capable of, even if much of his motivation is unprecedented and petty. 

“Give Kevin back to me,” Riko demanded. “You have unlawfully taken him from me. Give him back.”

“He is not yours, or mine, to own.” Neil corrected him. He kept himself just beyond arm’s reach, a trick he had learned when he once often interacted with Nathan. “He’s his own being.”

“You fucking prick.” It’s a blur of action, but Neil found himself pinned to a hard concrete surface, his vision spotting with the force that Riko’d smacked his head to the ground. 

He couldn’t risk jumping to the Unreal: If he did, his physical contact with Riko might bring him there. That’d be a really bad idea. 

So he tried to resist instead, but he was always more inclined to flight rather than fight. He was trapped. 

Until;

Riko was suddenly torn from where he was pressing Neil’s body to the ground, restricting all movement and chance to escape. He vanished as soon as he realised he was no longer alone - the coward that he was - and Neil scrambled to his feet in anticipation. 

“You’re useless.” The man decided. “All he had to do was poke you and you were practically incapacitated.”

“You took your time.” Neil huffed, brushing himself off. He would rather not admit he’d asked for the man’s assistance - he was meant to represent protection, after all - but he couldn’t have risked it. 

“Useless.” He reiterated. 

“At least you had warning.” Neil proposed. “You didn’t have to come.”

“If you’re dead, we’re all dead.” He reminded Neil. “Besides, I know you’ve convinced Kevin to stay away from that sadistic fuck. I need someone to help him keep his head above the water.”

“Well.” Neil said awkwardly. He looked out: They were stood in the middle of a lonely Welsh field. There were sheep a few metres away, and it was hard to tell whether or not it was sunset or sunrise. The constant mask of clouds made it impossible to really know. “Thanks?”

The man merely grunted. “Just don’t be stupid next time.”

“Stupid, how?”

From beneath sheaths in the bands on his arms, he withdrew a knife. He chucked it at Neil, who caught it handle first. On one side of the hilt was an engraved sun, and the other a crescent moon. It had to be really old. “If I can’t be there, don’t get yourself killed.”

“So this will be a regular occurance?” Neil teased. “You saving my ass?” 

“Make me a deal.”  His eyes were like molten gold. “I protect you. You keep Kevin - and the rest of us - alive.”

“You know who I am.” Neil challenged. “You really think you can go against each and all of them who want me under their thumb?”

“I am protection and strength.” He sounded bored.  “Of course I can. Besides, it’s not your problem to worry about. You just need to not get on my nerves, because no one’s saving your ass then.”

“I don’t even know your name.” Neil confessed. “How am I supposed to just trust you?”

“ ‘Just as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west,’” He quoted. “I don’t break my promises.”

Neil offered his hand. “Neil.”

The man looked at it momentarily, before clasping it. The agreement was settled. “Andrew.” 

Neil wanted to know where the fuck Andrew had found this knife. It bore the craftsmanship of eons ago, the gentle casted ornate carvings, the inset of rubies for the sun and pearls for the moon. Stunning, really. Why he’d give it to Neil was another perplexing question. 

He was not fond of the idea of using it. He remembered Nathan’s extended torment, drawing fear from Neil’s every pore in an attempt to control him. The man loved his knives. Over the centuries, weaponry and torture methods had adapted and changed, but knives had always remained. 

He was sitting upon the concrete wall that fronted St Ives’ Tate Modern gallery, looking out at the churning ocean. It was dark, and the moon was hidden by the building behind him. The lighthouse upon a cliff to his right shone light out into the endless ocean.

This place would be stunning on a clear summer’s day.

When Jean walked around the corner, he was hurried. He approached Neil by running up the stairs, looking up at Neil where he sat on the concrete wall. 

“You’d best allow Andrew to find you.” He suggested. “He’s very irritable, because Kevin is useless and won’t tell him where you are.”

Not many could find him: Another perk of his. He could toggle it on and off. His most recent Riko attack was because he had stayed too long in one place. But if he allowed a certain being to find him, it could be at any time. 

Kevin, Jean, Matt and Wymack. Sometimes Dan, Allison, Nicky and Renee. Not often: Jeremy, Alvarez (ignorance) and Laila (innocence). 

He rubbed his hands together in the cold, burying them between his knees. “Sure.”

Jean shook his head, and jogged away. 

Neil could tell when Andrew arrived, because fingers wound themselves into his hair so that his head could be tugged back. Andrew was straddling the wall, one hand pressed with fingers splayed next to Neil’s thigh, the other holding his head up. 

“How the fuck am I meant to protect you if I can’t even find you?” He growled. 

“I forgot.” Neil shrugged. 

With angered muttering under his breath, he turned to face the ocean. 

“Is it prettier in the summer sun?” He asked, curious. 

“What business do I have in caring about aesthetics?” He took a drag from his cigarette.

Neil supposed that was fair enough. A moment of tense silence passed. “You don’t need to keep me company.” 

“Good.” He hopped off the wall and strode away. 

Neil sighed and kept his gaze upon the horizon.

“You have managed to consistently rile up Andrew.” Kevin remarked. “That’s commendable.”

Neil simply arched an eyebrow. 

“He doesn’t - can’t - care about anything enough to be angry. Usually.”

“He does not care about me.” Neil corrected him. “He simply is fulfilling his promises.”

Kevin still didn’t get it. “I mean, he’s consistently followed you around for weeks. But as soon as I try to get him more invested in what he’s doing, and his capabilities as, you know, the embodiment of the fucking sun, he ignores me!” He shook his head, bringing a mug to his lips. 

Most of his fellow beings made habits of sleeping and eating and drinking, because they too could dream and taste. Neil didn’t see the need to bother. 

“Maybe I have his best interests in mind.” He said. 

“Oh, yeah?” Kevin shook his head. “Like what?”

Neil wasn’t actually sure. He simply took Kevin’s coffee and sipped on the strange smelling liquid. It tasted worse than it smelled. He made a face and put it back onto the table. 

Kevin put his head in his hands. “The day anyone gets through to Andrew is the day the sun collides with the planet.”

“We might still be here, depending on how quickly the humans run themselves into the ground.”

“Wouldn’t count on it.” Kevin muttered, sullenly slurping from his drink. 

Neil ignored his moping friend and stared out the diner’s shuttered window instead, watching raindrops slide down the glass pane. 

Did Andrew really not care?

When Neil asked him that, he scoffed. “Of course not.”

Neil just looked at him, waiting for an expansion. 

“You, of all the others, should know how pointless this all is.” He gestured around himself. Neil liked the angle of his fingers as they held the cigarette: With nonchalance, but also, with fearlessness. “We’re one of trillions. What difference does it make?”

“Scientifically, you’re the most vital aspect to this whole conundrum of living things.” Neil said, quietly. “I don’t understand how the individual on which the weight of the entire world rests couldn’t care less about it. What, is it too much to deal with?”

Andrew looked at him pointedly. 

Neil looked back. “I shouldn’t be the one responsible for eternity. The sun is protection, and strength, and gives life. The moon is just some floating rock, reflecting the light you give. It’s practically nothing.” He felt himself curl inwards.  “I am nothing. Time, life, purpose. None of it can mean anything to me. I’m just nothing.”

His hand rested on the back of Neil’s next, forcing his head to his knees. He hadn’t even registered the quickening of breath, the lightheadedness. Overwhelmed was not something he could risk. He was being chased after by those who wanted chaos and destruction. He was being yearned after for those who wanted to use him selfishly. 

“Now you know why I don’t care about any of it.” He said lowly. 

“because I can’t afford to” went unsaid.

It snapped Neil out of his strange spiral. 

“You aren’t nothing, Neil.” Andrew said. His strange apathy was oddly comforting. No objectivity could influence the statements he said. “All of this is nothing without you.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Neil said, weakly. 

“Don’t get used to it.” He let go, taking another drag. Neil plucked it out of his hand to take a steady inhale. He liked the way the smoke curled in the air as he breathed out. Andrew did not look impressed. 

“I won’t.” Neil leaned closer to slot the cigarette back between the angle of his fingers. 

The man scoffed. Together, they watched the sunrise over the limeston structures of Vietnam’s HaLong Bay. 

This is nice, Neil thought. He did not dare say it outloud. 

this was getting tooooo longggggggg so i thought: two parts?

although it might be nice just to leave it at that. idk. 

Sharing Is Caring (m)

Summary: This is seriously just porn, guys. Just 1500 words of pure porn.

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader ; Namjoon/Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1496

Warnings: it’s. porn.

A/N: The other day, the love of my life @gimmesumsuga posted a little challenge to send her smut that she’d rate from 1-10, and  I might have gotten a little bit jealous at all the attention she was giving the people who submitted. So this is me, using my knowledge of Steph’s kinks to cheat and get a 10. 

You’re out to dinner with all of the boys, your boyfriend Yoongi’s arm wrapped loosely around your waist. The table is pretty tight, since there are so many of you out, and so you’re shoved quite snugly between Yoongi and Namjoon, although the later does seem to be a bit preoccupied by the conversation at hand.

The evening had been going surprisingly well when you started to feel your boyfriend’s hand dip below you skirt. Your breathing stops for a moment, but you don’t want your sudden stiffness to attract the eyes of Namjoon, and so you quickly remedy your mistake.

You know better than to push Yoongi’s hand away from you, the last time you did so you couldn’t sit down for a week and while the experience had been pleasurable, your ass needed a bit of a rest.

Yoongi begins to stroke you through your underwear--a skimpy little lace number that does almost nothing to hide your wetness from him.

“Such a slut,” he whispers in your ear, “so wet for daddy in public. And with Namjoon sitting right there. What would he say if he looked over and saw my fingers deep inside your dripping pussy under the table?”

You can’t respond, too focused on trying to keep quiet as he moves your panties aside and begins to finger you. Yoongi’s long fingers are both a blessing and a curse, able to reach deep within you without much trouble on his part, causing ecstasy to shoot up and down your spine.

You don’t realize that you’re rocking your hips back and forth until Namjoon’s voice pulls you out of you lust-induced haze. “Hey, are you okay?”

He says it lowly, so it doesn’t draw any attention, but as he takes in your flushed cheeks and your fucked out gaze he quickly drops his gaze you your core.

Yoongi’s fingers haven’t stopped moving in and out of you, despite his awareness of Namjoon’s stare. The younger boy swallows hard and his eyes stay glued to where Yoongi’s hand dips beneath your underwear.

“Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi’s low voice drawls, just loud enough for Namjoon to hear, “you can touch her too, if you want. She’s being a slut anyway.”

Namjoon looks shocked for a moment, as if he thinks this is all some sort of test, one where he might make an enemy of Yoongi for doing the wrong thing. But soon enough his eyes darken and he decides that it’s better to take the chance if it means getting to feel you wrapped around his fingers.

Yoongi doesn’t pull his hand away as Namjoon casually reaches down to touch your core. He doesn’t tease you, merely running his long fingers along your slit a few times, relishing in how wet you are before plunging his fingers deep within you.

You let out a soft grunt as Namjoon’s fingers join Yoongi’s inside of you. They’ve got you stretched out quite a bit, each of them using two fingers on you. They quickly find a complementary rhythm, Namjoon’s fingers thrusting in as Yoongi’s pull slightly out and then vice versa. They’ve created a relentless pounding on your g-spot and you honestly can’t fathom how you’re not making any sounds. How you’re not screaming both of their names and begging to be filled. Probably because you know if you get too loud they will stop and you can’t have that.

“Damn, Yoongi-hyung. She’s so tight.” Namjoon whispers, and Yoongi smirks.

“Wait until you feel how tight her pussy is around your cock, Joonie-yah. It’s like Heaven. So tight and warm and wet. You’ll have trouble not  just cumming right when you put it in.”

Namjoon double takes slightly when Yoongi mentions letting him fuck you, and he desperately asks for confirmation, all without slowing down his fingers pace within you.

“Y-You’re going to let me fuck her, hyung?”

“Mmm.” Yoongi hums. “I want to see her stretched around you while she lets me fuck her throat. Does that sound good?”

Namjoon only nods slightly, and your eyes fall downward to where there is now an obvious tent in his slacks.

“And what about you, babygirl,” Yoongi asks you, “does that sound good to you too?”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, but you manage to nod. Yoongi just chuckles and shakes his head slightly.

“Sorry babygirl, you’ve got to use your words. Come on, tell daddy whether you want us or not. I don’t care if you moan. Let everyone hear what a slut you are.”

Namjoon merely grunts in agreement on your other side and they both quicken their paces within you.

“Oh yes!” You groan out, half in confirmation of Yoongi’s question and half in ecstasy. The moan is louder than you intended, and thus you find the entire table looking at you quizzically.

The two boys finally stop moving their fingers inside you and you feel as if you’re about to cry from the loss.

“You… good over there?” Taehyung asks you awkwardly and you just shrug noncommittally.

“I’m worried about you.” Namjoon pipes up from beside you. “Why don’t we go to the bathroom, just in case.”

You nod dumbly and let Joonie pull you to your feet. Yoongi stands as well, following the both of you as you all head to the bathroom, although no one bats an eye at that since you’re dating.

The door to the restroom has barely closed when Namjoon and Yoongi begin unbuckling their belts and pulling themselves out. You stand dumbly, too fucked out to move, but soon Yoongi grips you by the hair, forcing you to your knees beneath him.

The bathroom is nice and there’s plush carpeting on the floor that cushions your knees and you’re grateful, considering how long you imagine you’ll be down here.

Yoongi drags his cock along your lips, smearing his precum on them before slowly pushing inside your mouth. You’re well practiced at this by now, letting saliva fill your mouth and dribble out the corners as you let Yoongi fuck his way into you roughly.

Namjoon seems to be enjoying the show as well, his hand pumping up and down the long expanse of his cock as he watches Yoongi abuse your mouth.

“What are you waiting for, Namjoon-ah?” Yoongi says without relenting on his pace. “Fuck her already. Make her cum.”

Yoongi sinks to his knees before you, allowing Namjoon a more level surface to work with. You instantly begin to bob your head up and down Yoongi with vigour, only stopping when Namjoon slides into you from behind.

“Did I say you could stop?” Yoongi says, grabbing the back of your head and shoving you down roughly. “You’ll take both of us right, or you’ll be left high and dry, and I’ll get Namjoon off myself.”

You moan loudly at that and Namjoon takes that as the hint to start moving. He fucks into you roughly, he balls slapping against you with each forward movement of his hips. The sounds in the room are wet and filthy, just your muffled moans mingling with the slapping of skin.

You begin to clench around Namjoon and he brings a hand swiftly down to slap your ass. The sound resonates in the room and makes Yoongi’s hips stutter.

“Fuck yeah,” Namjoon grunts. “You weren’t kidding, hyung. She’s like a vice around my cock. God I want to cum all over her.”

Yoongi just chuckles lowly at the younger boys admission.

“Why don’t you cum inside her Joonie-yah? That way she’ll have to walk around for the rest of the night full of you cum.”

Namjoon loses himself at that, his hips stuttering and his cum shooting deep inside of you, the feeling of his cum coating your walls makes you cum as well, your pussy milking Namjoon of every last drop.

As the younger boy pulls out of you, Yoongi flips you around, not letting you adjust to the new position before slamming into you, the sound of his cock pressing inside of your already cum-filled pussy the absolute most sinful thing you’ve ever heard. He thrusts a few times before he too, is cumming deep within you, and your core throbs at how full you’re feeling.

Yoongi pulls out slowly and the three of you take deep breaths to regain your composure.

Yoongi places a light kiss to your lips before motioning for Namjoon to do the same. His mouth feels foreign on your own, but not unwelcome, and you hope Yoongi will allow you to do this again.

Yoongi pulls up you this lace panties, not letting you clean yourself. Namjoon merely smirks as he realizes that Yoongi’s earlier statement was true, and not just said in a fit of passion.

“Fucking hell,” Joonie says, “this is so hot.”

Yoongi just nods, pulling your skirt down over your ass and giving it a light slap.

“Just wait until you see what else she can do, Joonie-yah. Just wait.”

A/N: So what do you think? Did I get a 10?

WHY ANON (slams desk so hard it splits clean in half) I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED

now, picturing an au where max comes to arcadia bay after five years, rachel's there, no wacky time hijinks ensue and nobody's fucking suffering:

*rachel is genuinely SO hyped to meet max, though admittedly, it's got less to do with max herself and more with what she means to chloe. like, chloe would not shut up about max the whole time she's known her, and she sincerely sounds like such a sweet girl -- but also like the polar opposite of how chloe presents outwardly now. so getting to actually meet that goofy little shutterbug nerd who's owned a piece of chloe's heart since childhood is massively exciting to her. (and of course, gleaning Top Secret childhood info about chloe from her is a great bonus.)

once they meet, rachel's pretty much instantly endeared with her: she's so small and cute and fidgety, like a little pet squirrel! she's really fun to tease and mess with, and her reactions are adorable.

meanwhile, on max's end, her first impression of rachel amber is holy mother of intimidating, batman. chloe's built her up so much beforehand, but it still doesn't compare to actually being in the same room as rachel amber. she's like... electromagnetic. and almost definitely too cool for max to be breathing the same air as her. but she's also so NICE and friendly and not mean or condescending at all. so while max was initially feeling a little sour over chloe's best friend position being filled by someone else, she can't be actually mad about it. it's kind of impossible not to fall in love with rachel amber.

*though max is a little more reserved than rachel's used to, and rachel's way cooler than max is used to, they quickly find they can get a good conversation flow going, talking about art and literature and nerd stuff that chloe tends to zone out during. rachel offers surprisingly insightful commentary on max's photography, which catches her off-guard and makes her kind of embarrassingly fluttery on the inside. 'you should take my picture sometimes,’ she says with a smile. ‘i'm looking into modeling.' 'oh! oh. okay.'

*though rachel really enjoys teasing max, she's also very good at telling where to draw the line and when to pull back. she can see max struggles a bit in social situations with new people, and she wants to make sure that her reactions stay firmly within the 'adorably flustered' camp without crossing over to actual anxiousness. max really appreciates it, and she's kind of awed by it, too -- max is always doing her best to be empathetic and tune into what other people are feeling, but her particular mix of nosinesss and awkwardness can make it hard. to rachel, it just comes effortlessly, and it kind of blows max's mind.

*max feels a little out of place in her first week or two back in arcadia bay. even though chloe has accepted her back with open arms and rachel's been nothing but friendly, she can't shake the feeling that the two of them have so much more in common than she and chloe have now -- she's just this awkward nerd girl, and maybe they're only hanging out with her out of obligation...

though both chloe and rachel notice something's up with her, rachel is the one she ends up confiding in. paradoxically, it's easier to talk about personal stuff like this with someone she doesn't know so well, especially because she's worried that admitting it to chloe would just sound like guilt tripping. rachel proves a very sensitive listener, and instills new confidence in her, too: she tells max about how chloe puts on the pirate mixtape she made her in elementary school at least once a week, and how when they passed by a heap of old toys and summer clothes at the junkyard last month, she framed it with her fingers and went 'man, max would take a black and white picture of this and and call it farewell summertime, or some shit'. 

max feels better after that.

*rachel plays two truths and a lie with max. it is, after all, a time-tested bonding exercise. as chloe predicted, max fucking sucks at this game because she cannot lie to save her ass. she gives two completely mundane truths that no one would ever suspect to be false, then pauses, stares thoughtfully at her shoes, brushes at her hair, and comes up with some shit like 'i have a pet tarantula'. ('i've been to your dorm room, max,' rachel reminds. 'well-- yeah! i mean at home in seattle! my parents are taking care of him now. he's... bad with flights.') she's surprisingly good at picking apart rachel's lie, though, and rachel's impressed with her quiet attentiveness.

'but seriously, though. we gotta teach you how to lie.'

*rachel models for max, because i mean, come on, she’s gotta. max absolutely doesn't want to pass up this chance but she's also freaking out on the inside (and on the outside), because she's never actually worked with a model before -- it's usually just selfies, sceneries and candids. she's really worried it won't come out well and rachel will think less of her for it. she also has a minor heart attack when rachel walks into her room, drops her jacket on the bed, and says 'so is this where i take it all off, or...'

(when max just stares at her in terror, she laughs and says 'kidding, of course'. and the photos turn out really nice! so. all is well.)

*rachel absolutely loves that they're the same size and exploits the shit out of this, swapping outfits with max left and right. she thinks max looks hot as hell in her clothes, and while max can't really see it herself, being praised by rachel feels good. (her clothes always smell really nice, too.) she feels awkward lending rachel her clothes in return, because she has so much style and max really doesn't, but rachel always says 'oh, shush, your style's adorable' and steals all her lame hoodies and geek T-shirts anyway. and somehow makes them look drop-dead gorgeous every time.

*rachel loves dressing max up! she likes dragging her on impromptu shopping sprees, picking out bundles of clothes for her to try on, or just showing up on her doorstep and thrusting a bag into her hands with a 'here, wear this'. she's quick to pick up on max's aesthetic, and always gets stuff that's right up her alley, but just a little bolder than she'd usually think to buy: a bit more colorful, a bit more form-fitting. max finds the experience kind of embarrassing -- she doesn't want rachel to think she's some charity case -- but she can't deny that the outfits rachel pick out look... really good.

also, rachel LOVES matching outfits -- not in tacky over-the-top ways, but stuff like complementary color choices or little matching accessories. max really gets into the accessory thing too, and starts making a habit of gifting rachel goofy little nerd trinkets to match with. i'm talking stuff like this and this and this. rachel puts every last one of these on her keychain until it's considerably more chain than keys.

*in the venn diagram of chloe and max's music tastes, rachel is the overlap. she likes all of chloe's thrashy metal and angry teen angst hymns, and she likes all of max's weepy guitar tunes and cringy pop from 2003. max admittedly never quite outgrew her seventh-grade nsync phase, and rachel is a huge slut for nostalgia shit like that, as well as a huge slut for making chloe suffer. which means that car rides with those three almost inevitably end up sounding like a middle school dance party while chloe grumbles and huffs behind the wheel the whole way.

*they have like a million geeky marathons, staying up all night watching dr who and buffy and lord of the rings. while they're both big fans of the classics, max is the more active fandom-connoisseur of the two, and introduces rachel to a ton of stuff like obscure european sci-fi films, old artsy cinema, and like a metric boatload of anime. max's taste is all over the place and rachel enjoys pretty much all of it, even the outrageously bad stuff, because she has no concept of cringe and if anything just finds the dumb shit more fun. she will enthusiastically watch final fantasy spirits within with max and not even complain once.

she loves seeing max's eyes light up during the parts she likes best, or how animated she gets when she talks about it afterwards, sharing all this background trivia and her interpretations of the stories. max is really glad for the way rachel listens, even about stuff that obviously didn't grab her as much, but sometimes she has to stop and just kind of trail off mid-sentence because rachel's looking at her like she's going to eat her and leaning in and oh.

i said a few days ago i could just write a post about my rei/max headcanons and why i ship it and such, and i just really love rambling about these two, so here is my little reimax brainstorming post that i spontaneously felt like writing. (this is all based on animeverse, obviously.)

☆ well, first i'll say that despite whatever headcanons and interpretations, i first and foremost ship characters just because it's fun, so basically It's Not That Deep and i never claim anything as canon at all, i can literally list my first reason for shipping them as rei and max being so nicely complementary characters design-wise (long dark & short fair hair, light & dark eyes, different skin tones, purple-red & yellow-green, white & black, my self-imposed cat & dog and moon & sun allegories all that kinda stuff that just works out nicely) that's all i need to enjoy a ship honestly. i don’t like the practice of undermining other possible pairings because yours is “correct”.

☆ rei and max both basically come to japan as foreigners pre-series (max speaks the language with an accent so i take it he's not too adapted to the country yet, even if he got some of the culture from his dad’s side) which i like to think brings them together early on, since they have a shared experience of not quite belonging. i like thinking of it as a sort of over-arching feature of their friendship that sets them apart from the rest of the team. (on the other hand though, there's the obvious clash of max being a rich kid from new york and rei from the backwoods of china..... i haven’t explored that much, other than rei being completely clueless about technology and max eventually forcing him to get a cell phone because he cant keep writing letters forever for cucks sake)

☆ really obvious from my art and all but i headcanon rei as sensitive and easily flustered, based on his gentle personality and how he tends to be swayed by emotions (and lack of self confidence which isn't exactly ever laid out i think, but that's how i read him losing his way so easily), and his arrogance especially at the beginning is just him putting up a front and looking down on people at first out of wanting to feel superior himself. i actually headcanon rei to underestimate and brush max off big time at first over his favour for takao whom rei is totally amazed with at first - i mean, is ever since, but in s1 takao is still New and Exciting. max on the other hand is seen impressed with rei's strength from the start, and he isn't fazed by his arrogant attitude, nor does max ever particularly put himself on a pedestal so he doesn't mind the one-sided sentiment. max is also really patient, and i like to think that his smarts and personality gradually draw rei in, especially because rei wants to think of himself as rational and mature and a big brother of sorts -- since he’s got so much experience travelling, and has had the big brother-like role in china (i headcanon him as a bit older than the rest of BBA, i mean how else would he ever have had the time to travel) but, as said, he’s easily swayed by emotions instead. the fact that max seems so childish but has this surprising depth to him gradually makes rei acknowledge him as a blader too.

☆ the thing about their friendship is that it's very stable and sort of subtly constantly on the background. i don't even headcanon there to be any dramatic turning point of them suddenly becoming closer or anything, they're just naturally drawn to each other and end up spending time together a lot. i think of them as the observant half of the BBA team, and they work amazingly well as a team early on (synchronised moves already in s1 like wow) as something that just comes very naturally to them from thinking alike and being together. (during the domestic bits of s2 they are basically always together, like just sitting in the dojo by the two of them tuning their beys together, it’s actually really cute) there isn't the sort of dramatic element in their relationship that there is between them and takao, and kai to an extent, because they never consider each other rivals but rather are always on the same side. half of g-revolution is them banding together (in spirit) to position themselves as takao’s rivals and they work for a shared objective (which they, by the way, apparently agree on just between the two of them and meet up at like death o'clock in the morning without telling anybody else before leaving together in the beginning of g-rev. and then they return to the same place later in a dramatic sunset to reminisce about that morning, i've always wanted to write a fic about how gay that actually looks) ANYWAY point being...... what was my point. that rei and max are just forever low-key together, even when they physically aren’t.

☆ basically my canon-compliant reimax includes a lengthy friends-to-lovers mutual pining of them making the perfect pair for a really long while and being close to the point of others probably thinking they're already dating when they themselves haven't even discovered or admitted they have romantic feelings yet and everyone’s just "what".

☆ back to headcanon land, also pretty obvious from my fanworks, but i hc max as the more assertive one by a mile, and my usual depiction is that he actually is aware of his feelings for rei (starting from wherever i choose that to start. “forever” is a good pick) and probably knows that rei feels the same, but max just loves teasing the hell out of him for it because rei's reactions are so emotion-based (against his own will. he'd want to be a calm and rational adult so bad) and he takes himself so seriously. max sees through rei's tough act pretty much from the start and only finds it endearing. and max is the kind to perpetually surprise everyone else, either on purpose or just by the virtue of being so much more than he seems to be, so in turn rei is infatuated with the complexity of max's character (and also just his cuteness but you know) but somehow repeatedly finds himself fooled by max anyway, e.g. rei would sure as hell think max is all innocent and cute and would probably think it scandalous if max ever found out he's having such INAPPROPRIATE thoughts about him, but then it's max making the first move by casually throwing some pick-up line at rei (....or slapping his ass or whatever) which max isn't ashamed of doing in the least. that's the sort of dynamic i headcanon them to have.......when it's not just a smooth sailing of them easily moving from friends to boyfriends, anyway, which i can also more canon-compliantly imagine. like one day they just end up making out and go "oh" and it makes perfect sense to both. that also works. which do i like better?? i love all of it. (alternatively, they're just both too dense to make the first move and the girls, hiromi and mao usually, wind up being their wingwomen who have to spell their obvious feelings out to them. girls because they are so much smoother at this stuff than guys. also, it's somehow a running thing in my imagined settings that kai is the only other BBA member who knows of them, just because he's the only one actually sitting there quietly observing everyone. and he is groaning internally all the time because these idiots just don't get it. like i could literally write a fic like this from kai’s POV. actually i have a zillion different settings for how reimax could happen and this post isn't supposed to be a masterlist of them, but that's a couple of thoughts)

☆ not a surprise but i have like a compulsive need to depict max being crazy about rei’s beautiful hair, and also his build in general (the tips of rei's ears are an erogenous zone by the way) -- i guess i headcanon max to be much more actively *attracted* to people (pan max is my way of max) and it’s very natural for him to find rei’s characteristics attractive, while at rei's end it's more of a "i have no idea why i feel this way about him what is this we're both guys it shouldn't be like this ohmygod did i just think he was cute for a second no it can't be oh no." i also think that rei would have a harder time dating another guy and dealing with what other people would think about it and all, being from the boonies as opposed to max being from a big american city. which then could also contribute to rei addressing his feelings much more slowly or being alien to the whole concept altogether. but i don't care to address real world issues in my 100% fictional noncanon fanworks, so i don't think about that aspect much.

this is probably enough rambling for one post, tl;dr i sure am attached to an imaginary relationship of a couple of cartoon boys

Jung Jaehyun Smut - No Shirt, No Shoes.... Some Service.

NCT! Yes! Jae is one of my favorites and hes def a switch. Hope you enjoy! 

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun/ Reader Rating: M Word Count: 2,359 Words Warnings; Marking, Extremely Rough Sex, Oral (both giving and receiving), Blood mention, Bruising

For several days after you had fucked, Jung Jaehyun had decided to be shirtless. Notoriously being someone who did not sport the “no shirt no shoes no service” aesthetic, you had decided in your head that he had ulterior motives. Bragging. Suggestively strutting around the dorm with bright scratch marks down his back. Bite marks on his shoulder. Bite marks around his v line, precariously peaking from the low waisted jeans that he wore. Bite marks, scratches…decorating each suggestive piece of his body as he floated within eyesight, boasting a brash atmosphere. It angered you in a way that you couldn’t explain. Arousal and frustration as you observed him practically display your sex life. You had finally cracked when Donghyuck had said something, his usual cockiness radiating as he glanced at Jaehyun’s back. “Where did you get those marks?” He laughed, watching as a broad smile spread over Jaehyun’s face. You felt your eyebrow slightly twitch in aggravation at the conversation, feeling your anger come to the edge. “Those are some pretty unique marks” Donghyuck prodded. “Guess you had a fun time with Y/N huh?” That was it. You snapped, hopping into the conversation. “At least he actually gets some” you rolled your eyes walking into Jaehyun’s room and slamming the door. You could feel your anger boil as you laid on the bed, plotting revenge as you flipped through a tabloid magazine. It wasn’t shortly after that, as expected, that Jaehyun appeared. He eased the door open slowly, flashing a soft grin as you watched him with indignant eyes. “Hey angel” he sang, sitting down next to you on the bed. You watched with irritation as he attempted to move closer to you. “How long did you think you could get away with that” You confronted, glancing at the dark marks that coated nearly every inch of his torso. He chuckled innocently. “What did I get away with my queen?” You grimaced slightly as he laid on the pet names. You weren’t in the mood for his dominance. In fact, you were aiming for the exact opposite. Quickly, you moved closer to him, pinning him as you dug your core onto his thigh. “You know exactly what I mean… my little prince.” You watched as a giant pout formed on Jaehyun’s face as pulled his face closer to yours, attempting to regain dominance. Not today. You pulled him into a deep kiss, parting his lips with vigor as you traced around his tongue. You began grinding lightly on his leg as you pinned him close to your chest, forcefully darting your tongue as you explored each crevice of his mouth. You thrived off the way his thighs provided pure ecstasy. It gave you such a high that it drove you crazy, intoxicated by the way every part of him brought out a part of you that you couldn’t control. You bit his ear roughly as you bucked your hips onto his knee. You could feel as his knee slightly grazed your entrance and smirked, watching as Jaehyun panted quietly. He clung to you desperately as you sucked and bit on the nape of his neck, watching with lustful eyes as he whispered in frustration. “Fuck” he panted as you left purple bruises on his neck, drawing blood in some places, and licking strips through the light cuts. You allowed a hot breath to escape into his ear as you felt him shiver beneath your touch. “Baby boy.. I’m gonna fucking tear you apart.” You observed as he let out a surprised gasp, pushing him roughly onto the bed as you forcefully opened his thighs. “Off.” you commanded. He obliged with shock, quickly taking off his jeans as you watched in admiration. His muscles were something that drove you crazy. They shaped his legs in a way that made you bite your lip. Each soft curvature was complementary to a dick that drove you mad. You watched impatiently as he stopped at his jeans. “All of it”. You instructed, drooling as you awaited the sight of his cock. It was worth the wait. Strained and dripping with precum, it was more than a sight to see Jaehyun’s delicious cock on display. It was a blessing. Already fully erect, it offered a slight curve that was able to hit every spot inside of you with ease. The head of his cock was presented to you in the best way. Blushed with a slight hue of pink, it complemented his tan complexion in the most appeasing way. Every single thing about his cock persuaded you into insanity, and every time it was bestowed to you it drove your stomach to knots. You watched as Jaehyun sat back obediently on the bed, eyes glazed with need as you watched him with predatory eyes. Stripping down to join him, you crawled back onto his thigh. The feeling of riding his toned legs was much more satisfactory when your core was exposed. The friction created was purely from the skin to skin contact. It was the sexiest thing you had experienced. You bucked your hips and watched as Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows, shutting his eyes as he felt your wet pussy against his thigh. You growled as you grabbed his hair fiercely, making him watch as you moved your folds against him. His eyes were exhausted with lust as he watched intently, parting his lips slightly as he heavily breathed. You observed as his cock twitched lightly from the sight, smirking as you pulled him into a deep kiss again, harshly biting his lips and leaving a bruise along them. You felt him completely falter under your touch as you pulled him on top of you, smirking as you felt his hardened cock against your chest. “You want to eat out mommy?” you whispered into his ear, watching as his eyes widened with need. He nodded ambitiously and you chuckled, watching as he traveled to the beginning of your heat. You pulled his hair roughly, gaining a soft whimper as you looked at him coyishly. “Is my prince gonna make me feel good?” You watched his eyes, completely coated with desire at such a close proximity to your pussy. You knew how crazy it drove him when he was unable to touch you. Smirking you pushed his head forcibly to the beginning of your clit, watching with wanting eyes as he pinned your thighs with eagerness. You pulled his hair roughly again. “Are you trying to pin me down?” You scolded, watching as he eased his grip on your legs. Gently he wrapped his hands around your ass as he began gently sucking on your labia. You offered a low moan as he continued sucking, increasing pressure as he added a thumb to your clit. He licked a strip into your entrance as he teased your sensitive nerves, watching as you squirmed underneath his touch with pure desire. He was obsessed with giving you head, and damn was he good at it. The way his tongue darted wildly into your pussy with an unexplained hunger stimulated you in a way no man ever could duplicate. His tongue teased your clit as he added two fingers with vigor, stretching you with long, calloused fingers that dug deeply into your entrance. The way his fingers felt against your walls as he desperately licked up your clit provided a heavy knot in your stomach. You could feel your edge approach. The adrenaline of the feeling his fingers provided as his tongue drew circles on your clit. It was euphoric. “Baby Boy you are doing so good.. I’m gonna-” You watched as Jaehyun drew your pussy closer to his lips, desperately kissing your clit as he tore your orgasm out of you. You screamed as you felt your thighs shake with your release, forcefully pulling Jaehyun’s face into your pussy as you came on his face. Jaehyun moaned into your orgasm as he licked up each of your juices, licking you clean as you gained your strength back. Jaehyun watched with pleading eyes as you sat up, rearranging yourself so that you could return the favor. You offered a gentle hand as you touched his cock, smirking at how extremely sensitive he was to your touch. You licked your lips with a sense of craving, offering a gentle kiss to his tip as you lowered your mouth. Jaehyun allowed a soft moan to escape as you licked down his shaft with fiercity. You felt each vein and twitch of his cock as he bucked his hips gently. This time it was your turn to pin his thighs down, securing them tightly to the bed as you deep throated him relentlessly. If Jaehyun was one to love giving head, then you were the second runner up. His cock tasted delicious and you couldn’t help but constantly crave it. You were addicted to the way it tempted your throat and brought tears to your eyes. Every thrust you provided to his dick resulted in deep moans that brought about heat that was near unbearable. You traced his tongue up and down and pumped what you couldn’t reach with your hand. It drove him mad. “Mommy” he panted lightly under his breath. You felt him harshly pull your hair as you deep throated him, grabbing strands and pulling so hard it burned. But it was the hottest thing he had ever done. You could tell he was close as you lifted yourself from his cock. Crawling on top of him you rested your legs on his, observing your work. His cock was shining and tempting, saliva decorating each curvature with a majestic hue. His eyes were dark and needy. His lips swollen and bruised as he offered a suggestive bite on his lower lip. His brown hair was sweaty and disheveled, revealing a shine across his forehead and defined cheekbones. There was nothing that turned you on more. Positioning yourself above his cock you rested your hands on his shoulders, biting harshly as he whimpered loudly. You dug your nails into his back over the already healing cuts, reopening them as he released a moan. “You like it rough like this bunny” You watched as he slowly lifted his head to met your eyes. You pulled his head roughly up, forcefully kissing his swollen lips as you nipped lightly on his upper lip. “I said do you like it when mommy fucks you like this.” He gulped as he looked at you, eyes dazed in sexual desire. “Yes” he panted. He was overstimulated. It was fucking hot. “Yes oh my god yes” You felt his hands tighten around your waist as he pulled you closer, laying his head on your shoulder in exhaustion. Quickly you slammed into him, sliding in roughly as he filled you to the brim. He released a scream as he felt how tight you were against his cock, digging his head deep into your shoulder as you roughly rode him. His cock was a god sent as it entered you. Every single inch stretched your walls in a way that was ethereal, and you became obsessed with the feeling his dick provided. You could barely withstand when his dick entered you. It was something that could never be replicated because every part of him was addictive. Intoxicating. Perfect. You could feel your second orgasm of the night near with certainty as you whispered gently into Jaehyun’s ear. “Do you want to finish mommy off baby boy?” Bad idea. Within what seemed like seconds, Jaehyun’s dominance reappeared, throwing you face first against the edge of the bed as he secured your hands. He was shaking as he thrust his cock roughly into your core, biting your lip and cutting your ear lobe with sharp teeth. “Kitten do you know how fucking bad you’ve been” You screamed as he thrusted wildly into you, but it was to no use. He had shoved your face into the bed fully knowing what his cock did. All that escaped were muffled screams of ecstasy. You could feel your thighs waver as he shoved his cock into you with such a harsh weight that it had you cumming in seconds. You felt him thrust wildly into you as he continued through it, overstimulating you as he bit roughly down your neck. You felt bruises forming on the tops of your thighs as he continuously slammed you into the bedside, forcibly shoving his cock in and out of you. You knew what he had wanted and it physically hurt to think about. “Cum again” he growled as he continued roughly slamming you against the bed. Your walls were already wildly clenching and unclenching as you endured the angle of his cock as it hit your sweet spot. Jaehyun was the master at fucking you. He knew every angle of your body better than you did, and it was enough to drive you over your edge. Your third orgasm of the night was reciprocated by the release of Jaehyun’s seed as you climaxed together. It was physically exhausting as you came around his cock, watching as he turned you over with suggestive eyes and pulled out. He gently lifted you onto the bed as you shook, overwhelmed with stimulation as your thighs flinched. You literally couldn’t stop shaking. But it felt so goddamn good. But the thing about Jung Jaehyun is that he is literally perfect. Coming back into the room with warm washcloths and your favorite ice cream. Wiping you gently as he prepared fresh sheets, and moving gently around you to procure them onto the bed. Kissing you sweetly on the face as you furrowed your eyebrows at the momentous amount of cuts his body withstood. Jaehyun was the perfect man, regardless of teasing. The kind who put on your favorite movie and cuddled you so close that you couldn’t move. The kind that spooned you after rough sex and gently played with your hair. He was perfect in a way that brought you to your own personal utopia. “Are you gonna wear shirts for now on?” He smirked. “I’ll think about it.”