#& nonnie

[plainxte]

I am looking respectfully 🫣

As someone who has a Tumblr filled with Queen photos, that's a familiar sentiment 😹 (what was it particularly?)

Here's a Roger for you in the meantime 😘

[romanovthinkver]

What about Nat taking you for the first time, being soft and careful but losing control for a bit and filling you up to the brim 🥴

sorry for the wait anon, i needed to get rid of my uni things, but here we go! it came out longer than i imagined, hope you enjoy either way!

warnings: sex scenes, dom/sub dynamic, g!p nat, daddy!nat, p in v, gxg, breeding, blowjob, fingering, orgasm, age gap, dirty talks.

daddy! nat was a completely a soft bear during your first time. you weren’t nothing but an inexperienced little virgin thing and natasha was this older woman who clearly had lots of sex in the past.

she took so much care of everything. the bed had towels for the eventuality of blood loss, bottles of water were lined up on the bedside table, the room was in the right temperature, a hand towel ready to wipe you off and she already set items ready for the aftercare. everything was under her control and ready to assure every of your comfort.

wet, needy and ready you were on her big bed being eaten and stretched out for the first time, at every whimper of discomfort natasha would softly hush you and press a kiss on your thighs. she was slow, lovely, giving you time to process and let her taste you in the most delicate ways.

natasha could’ve swear she would have been happy to die between your milky thighs with her mouth and fingers deep inside you, the sweet taste of your juices tempting and the most sinful sounds rolling off your tongue were driving the older woman drunk and lustful.

she was there with you, living the moment, living the passion, living the love flowing between you. starting to memorise your body that eventually became her favourite place to be, to mark, to own.

her knee sunk into the bed and while you were worshipping her plump breasts, she was jerking herself off with grunts and moans. your pussy was soaked thanks to the two orgasms she already gave you.

she shifted both of you on the bed, her back propped up against a mountain of pillows on the bed. fully naked, skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. her breath came in shallow gasps as natasha watched you, who was positioned between her legs.

natasha’s cock was standing erect and ready as you leaned closer, breath hot against the warm flesh. you kissed the tip hesitating, lips soft and teasing. your daddy eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a low groan escaping her lips.

“oh, bunny,” she breathed, her voice thick with desire.

your tongue darted out, feeling bolder to giving the tip a series of playful kitty licks looking up at the redhead for guidance which was immediately given as big veiny hands found their way into your curls, gently tugging to guiding your movements.

“look at me, baby girl,” natasha commanded, her voice firm yet tender. you obeyed, gaze locking with her and slowly taking the cock in your mouth starting with just the tip, tongue swirling around it before starting to take more, inch by inch like a drug.

the woman’s hips bucked involuntarily, desperate to thrust deeper into your wet and welcoming mouth, hands tightened in your hairs, trying to maintain control. “take it all, bunny. I want you to take every inch.”

your eyes filled eventually with tears as the cock reached the back of the throat, but you didn’t pull away because you wanted to make your daddy proud, so you relished the sensation of pleasing her, the power and submission blending into a heady mix that made your own body tingle with arousal. bobbing head, cheeks hollowing as you sucked, tongue working the length of the massive venous cock.

natasha’s breathing grew ragged, her moans louder and more desperate. “fuck–you’re amazing, baby girl. just like that.” her fingers twisted in your hairs holding you in place firmly.

you could feel the twitching of the prick as the heavy balls of the woman prepared to release its contents, you redoubled efforts, mouth moving faster, eyes never leaving natasha’s. the connection between you was electric, the intensity almost overwhelming.

“daddy needs you to swallow, bunny,” natasha growled, her hips trembling with the effort to stay still, she was so close and only god knows how she wanted to pin you down and fuck your mouth with mercy. “can you do that for me?”

you nodded as best you could, eyes filled with determination and devotion. with one final, deep thrust, natasha released her load, filling your mouth with the warm, sticky cum. you gagged slightly but quickly composed yourself, swallowing every drop as your daddy had commanded.

the redhead whole body shuddered with pleasure as she watched you. “that’s my good girl. you took it so well, baby.” pulling you up for a kiss, your mouths meeting in a passionate, messy collision. the taste of the cum was still on your lips, and natasha licked it off, savoring the flavor.

"you're so beautiful, baby," natasha murmured against your lips. she kissed her way down to your body again and her thumb found your clit, teasing your folds. you moaned softly, body arching towards the woman.

natasha made sure you was wet enough, she was so worried to hurt you like you were made of glass. patting the tip of her cock against her pussy and brushing the tip gently over her entrance, she breathed softly "are you ready, my little one?.”

you nodded with eyes filled with trust and need. "yes, daddy. please."

the redhead positioned herself and slowly pushed the tip inside you, inch by inch, ensuring you didn't feel too much pain, her lips found yours in a slow, sweet kiss, muffling your mutual groans of pleasure and then finally she bottomed fully inside you.

"you're doing so well, princess," she praised, her voice tender and head resting on your neck, you were so warm and tight and natasha was already on the brick of blowing. she kissed you softly while you gripped at her back with nails digging in slightly.

natasha, once sure the pain went away, began to thrust gently, setting a slow and intimate pace. each movement was filled with love and adoration, her hips moving rhythmically against yours. "you feel so good, bunny. so perfect.”

you whimpered, body trembling with pleasure and need for more. "daddy! oh–more, more. please!”

natasha increased her pace gradually, her thrusts becoming more intense. "fuck–baby, i need to cum inside of you. i need to fill you up, sweet girl. daddy needs to claim you." she continued to move, her body pressed intimately against yours until she felt the climax building.

with a final thrust, the redhead released the cum inside your warm pussy, humping softly to ensure it stayed within you. "take it all, princess. you're so good for me," natasha praised, her voice full of pride and affection.

foreheads touching, breath ragged and sweet smiles painted your lips and bodies locked close, natasha caressed your hair, kissed you gently, and whispered sweet nothings. "you're my everything, bunny. you did so well," her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

she kissed you deeply again and again. your connection building stronger than ever, as you held each other close, the world outside fading away in the warmth of your shared love.

[deunmiu-dessie]

literally a p link!

https://x.com/arousaii/status/1774823539780059385?s=46

Simon Riley n his sweet gf .

♡♡𝆬 🍼 nonnie! the thing is, you just love touching simon ˙◠˙ sometimes it's sexual and sometimes it's not. but you just have to hold onto him in some way. he's big, strong, warm, and gives the best hugs, he's so protective and that just makes your brain turn into a pile of goo and he just loves you s'much. ughh 😠

it can go from a simple cuddle, to rubbing against him with your slick cunt. from watching a movie with your head nestled against his pelvis, to your hand in his briefs and stroking him lazily. simon finds it cute, you touching him every chance you get, his clingy baby 🥺

૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა ₊˚⊹♡🫧— 𝒹𝑒����𝓈𝒾𝑒

[fleuraimer]

Threesome with h and his gf but he obviously prefers the reader 🤭🤭 you can make his gf jealous or reverse cuck vibes if that’s something you’d like but just the vibe of him preferring the reader in front of his gf even if he’s trying to hide it (or not)

BARK BARK BARK WOOF WOOF BARK—

you'd been caught staring (not as if you're known amongst your friend group for subtlety—contrary, you tend to wear your heart on your sleeve, an open book—but it's nevertheless jarring to be called out on it). sat at the dinning table in a public restaurant, staring at a person, a man—arabella's man.

harry.

it was overt and entirely unintentional (and hard not to when he'd perused you the way he had, the way you had (have) been), and led to your current position.

we like to share, she told you with a reassuring smile, tucked in his side, his arm around her waist, as waiters tentatively came by to clear the table and the others gathered their things and said their goodbyes to one another. but his eyes were still on you.

as they are now, sharp, unwavering—you can't see them but you don't need to, its heat searing into the curve of your back. despite her apologia, this doesn't feel like sharing. it feels intimate, private, something to be shared between lovers.

not lovers and the girl that couldn't stop eye-fucking arabella's boyfriend since the second they stepped, hand-in-hand, into the establishment.

no matter (it matters, deeply—because you’ve known bella for years and this has never happened. she has a type—brunette men with inked skin and thick, eyesore muscles—that you’d like to think is the exact opposite of yours. and he fits into it, could probably serve as the poster child for her desired man and this has never fucking happened before but it’s happening now).

it's heady—bella's sweaty back pressed against your chest, your ass perched above hers, thighs spread over her, toes brushing her calves; arms, shaking, over her bunched shoulder, hands weakly keeping the brunt of your weight from collapsing onto her. her nose is in the sheets and yours is in her hair, notes of lavender and tea tree sprouting from the roots, as harry bullies his cock into his girlfriend's pussy.

she yelps, fisting the sheets he's splayed her—on all fours with you, ready and waiting, placed whorishly on top—over, when the force of his strokes shifts you both over the mattress, the ruddy tip of his cock no doubt pressing gratingly at the spot inside her that makes her thighs shake underneath yours.

you can't stop the moan that tears from your throat.

and harry smirks. "like it?" he taunts—rubbly, coated, thick, in a condescending, oddly affectionate lilt that you know—just know—is meant for you. it makes you shiver; heat licks down the knobs of your bent spine and your chapped lips part to respond but—

“fu-uck yes, har, love it,” arabella sounds from beneath you, tongue clearly weighted to the bed of her mouth with the way her words slur, or perhaps it’s the muffle of silken sheets caught between her teeth, soaked with spit, chewing.

he grunts, and you don’t know him.

you don’t know him because arabella brought him to dinner with your friends as an introduction to her boyfriend of three months, harry styles. you don’t know him, because the way he smiled, soft but not timid, and shook hands with naill and daniel was in that stereotypical, brotherly way that says don’t break her heart on one end and don’t plan on it on the other. you don’t know him because the way he let sara and brithany come to him first for a hug, and kept his hands respectfully above the small of their backs proved he didn’t plan on breaking sweet arabella’s heart.

you don’t know him.

…but.

he grunts and you swear it’s one of annoyance and not satisfaction. annoyance at the fact his girlfriend—your close, i’ve-known-you-since-freshman-year-of-uni friend—had responded instead of you.

you’re not getting fucked but you may as well be, with the way your head seems to swim in fog and your thoughts clot together into one big mess of consonants and vowels. you may as well have his cock, harry’s pretty, pink cock, stuffed up inside your guts with how you tremble over bella’s frame (could be blamed on the way she’s shaking beneath you, but there’s truly no point in lying to yourself). he’s holding you—he’s fucking her but he’s holding you—hands fit just over the swell of your presented ass, nails biting into the soft of your hips. you may as well be getting fucked, with the way—

“you’re dripping,” harry murmurs, absentminded-like, and his right hand moves from it’s station at juncture between the small of your back and the slope of your bum to fit itself between your legs. brushes calloused, firm fingers to your puffed up clit and it’s dirty. it’s dirty because he just barely grazes your clit with the rough pads of his fingers before he’s swiping them up and down to collect your wetness until it’s practically pooling in his palm and then pulling out of his girlfriend with an audible pop to smear said wetness over the length of he’s already soaked cock.

you still can’t see him, you’re still thrown on all fours over your very close friend who’s also on all fours but hearing him—hearing it, the slick push and pull of his tight fist working the remnants of your arousal from his hand into his stiff cock—is enough to make you fucking come.

you’re not getting fucked but you may as well be.

you may as well be, and you are when he rises slightly up on his toes to press his fat cockhead to the seam of your pussy. you are getting fucked when he pushes inside of you instead of going back down to his panting, edged girlfriend just beneath you, her holes pretty and presented the same as yours.

you are getting fucked, fucked by harry—by bella’s man—and you could fucking cry with delight.

god, you need to talk to your therapist about the significance of what this means, but that’s a thought for a later time—a time when your cunt isn’t being completely filled by the cock of a man who doesn’t belong to you, the cock of a man that belongs to one of your very best friends.

“harryharryharry,” you keen into bella’s scalp, strands glistening with a mixture of sweat and your drool, and dig your nails into the bedding beneath your palms to claw at the fabric.

he grunts, cock fully sheathed inside of you and you can feel the way his cock kicks and twitches against your soft, gummy walls and how he shivers at the feel of you wrapped snug around him and the way he grips your waist, nails biting, to keep you locked onto him and rolls his hips into yours, somehow trying to reach deeper even though there’s nowhere else to go, no more room, full—full—and—

you don’t know him.

but you know he wants you, more than he should.

and maybe you do, too.

——

a/n: couldn't explain it 👍🏽

not edited/proofread!!

[mikaikaika]

Everyone tubbo L-ing in chat as if he didnt get exactly the information he was looking for in that cucurucho interaction. My guy has been asking if cucurucho still has power since the reset and well - he finally found out

^^^^ This! Obviously the whole stream was amazing but this was one of my favorite parts! I've been missing this style of interrogation he does where people don't even realize they're giving him information until it's too late. Same with interactions like talking his way out of fines with the rabbit, it's such a cool part of his character!

QTubbo is such a yap master that when he starts running his mouth people don't actually pay much attention and just begin brushing it off as him being him. But eventually there comes a moment where you realise that he has slowly and diligently not only diverted the conversation to what he wanted to, but also made you feel like you had the upper hand - when that was oh so not the case the whole time.

He is extremely good at asking leading questions which make you believe that you're in charge of the information you are giving up but what you don't realise is that you wouldn't have given out the info in the first place if not for qTubbo just making you talk in circles until he gets what he wants.

I still remember when he was slightly interrogating Bad about the disappearance of WB11 aka Ron and Bad didn't even realise he was being cornered and giving up info, until he eventually caught himself and quickly changed the topic. That was the day Bad called Tubbo "Too smart for his own good" and he was so right

I agree with you nonnie I'm so glad with this new arc we will get to see his unhinged side more and I hope we get more interactions with fed workers soon :D

[jalwyn21]

hmmm… https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFFMee3S/

ohhhh ...

So now if you google tortured poets you only see her album ..

Edit to add video

[heartofjasmina]

imagine if big bro Izuku helped his sister cum bcus she hasn’t been able to do it herself…

Nonnie I love this <3

::

"'Zuku, need help." You whisper as you crawl into your older brothers bed.

"What is it sweetheart?" Izuku doesn't even have the decency to be cranky from being woken up. He just turns his emerald eyes towards you, and pulls you close. His cock perks up and takes attention when he feels your bare tits brushing against his arm through a thin cotton shirt.

"Wanna feel good." You mumble with heat in your cheeks, knowing you're becoming addicted to it. The ritual of coming to his bed every night after ignoring the stupid boys at your college. They could never compare to the pleasure your big brother gave you.

"Again? You're so needy sis." He was teasing you, you knew it. Your legs were already spreading and his hand was already finding your clit.

"Can't help it, you make me feel good." It was honest and that's what set Izuku over the edge. He fed one, then two of his thick scarred fingers inside your pussy while his thumb circled your clit.

"That's cause you're mine, sweetheart. Always have been, always will be."

[the-travelling-bitch]

Imagine riding bachira’s thigh😭

And after you make a mess on him he gives u a reward😳

nonnie you can’t make me this horny on a normal wednesday you absolutely can and absolutely should

first of all, imagine the thighs on this man, i’m not okay, so unwell over this ㅠㅠ

[gn!reader]

and now imagine, walking up to him sitting on your couch, legs spread and arm slung over the back rest while he watches the replay of his last game

and you know you shouldn’t disturb him but you’re just so pent up after being away from your boyfriend for so long, so you quietly slip onto his lap and tell yourself being close to him will be enough

but with the way his arms sneak around your waist and the scent of his body wash flood your senses you just can’t help but squirm around where you sit, trying to create some sort of friction against your core

“hmm, what’s this? did somebody miss me that much?” you know you’re in for it now, if bachira’s teasing tone and the mischievous glint in bright eyes is anything to go by

but much to your shock he just repositions you to sit on one of his thighs and it clicks what he wants from you; when you stare up at him to see if he means it, you’re only greeted by his grin before his eyes fix on the tv once more

it’s embarrassing, frankly, to move yourself over his thigh alone but once he shifts underneath you just a little and the fabric of his sweats drags against you, all doubt is thrown out of the window as you try to find a pace that satisfies your need

but apparently it’s not enough for bachira; he wants to see you fall apart on his muscles and you’re just not getting there fast enough; without so much as sparing you a glance, two strong hands grab at your hips and start dragging you along his thigh, pushing you down harder and making you ball his shirt in your fists “come on, baby, you want to feel good right? don’t you think it’s much better like this?”

you’re mindlessly nodding along, stuttering incoherent sentences as you fall forwards, head resting against his shoulder as you pant into the side of his neck; you can feel your orgasm approaching, your stomach twisting together in pleasure

on of his hands leaves your hip in order to toy with your most sensitive spot as he sharply bounces his leg, making a delicious shiver run up your spine as you moan freely into his ear

you’d think he’s unbothered by the show you’re putting on but the way you’re whimpering and whining so sweetly while your own thighs shake and clamp around his as you cum has his cock twitching in his sweats

so it’s really no surprise that you’re fully pulled into his lap once again after you’ve calmed down a little, golden eyes sparkling down at you as bachira bucks his hips up into you despite your sensitivity

“practice round is over, let’s see you put those skills to use~”

[beautifulsoulcollector]

[avakitsune]

Miss…

respectfully.: SHUTUPWHYAREYOUSOGODDAMNGORFEOUS?! 👀😍

Disrespectfully: fuckkkkk 😵‍💫😵‍💫🫠

Hehehehe 💖💖💖💖💖🐰🐰🐰 thank you! You've made my whole night so much better

[romanovthinkver]

ughhh daddy nat would def fuck your plush thighs no one can change my mind 😊

daddy nat doing a thigh job ‘cause she’s obsessed with your thighs.

she nestles her thick shaft between your plush tights squeezing just right. the cock head brushing up from the labia till the butt cheeks due her enormous length, you can feel her pre cum coating your cunt and the texture of her bulbous veins. daddy nat has one arm around your torso and the other busy to keep an hold on your ass.

she start to thrust her hips hard growling like an animal, your ass being abused on hard slaps too.

that’s what she does. her green eyes becoming darker and darker by the sound of your squelching owned cunt and your pretty little sounds as she thrust harshly and fast.

when she feels she’s about to blow, she slips her cock into your pussy, breeding you only to pull out to see her hot semen coating your abused thighs. from her lips rolls down degrading words and praising.

she slowly rocks her hips to make sure once again her semen is spread on your thighs nice and well.

she owns you and every inch of your body, your daddy can’t stop claiming you with her cock in any possible way.

[deunmiu-dessie]

you’ve done it again, but i must ask… does ahn’thu get reader her cat back? (that stayed on my mind even while getting plowed by an alien lmao)

♡♡𝆬 nonnie! my dove! hehe--- i like to believe he does. ahn'thu is quite literally wrapped around your finger whether you believe it or not. the two of you stay in the clearing for a week or so and when ahn'thu tells you it's time to leave, you have to throw a fit. ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა ₊˚⊹♡🫧— 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑒

"we need to go back and get mr. cuddles. i'm not leaving earth without him." ˙◠˙

ahn'thu expresses his agitation through trills as you turn away from him, crossing your arms and pouting with puffed cheeks.

despite your attempt to give him the silent treatment, it doesn't have the desired effect. ♡

it's only when you stop eating that he finally gives in, understanding the depth of your attachment to your beloved cat. (it's easy to find mr. cuddles as he's splayed out on your destroyed couch.)

and you're absolutely ecstatic, jumping into his arms and nuzzling your face into his chest when he comes back to the ship with your black and white tabby cat. ˙ᵕ˙

you're undeterred by his claims of finding the cat annoying, and his cute little grumbles as you kiss all over his face. ( he loves it )

especially when mr. cuddles curls up in ahn'thu's arms, purring in contentment.

[fleuraimer]

i NEED to hear your thoughts on reader's arguments with boxer!carmy. what's their first argument about? who usually caves first?

you, anon, are a hero and a scholar and are about to receive the greatest blurb in the history of the the tumblr industry (pls someone understand this reference 😭😭)

BUT IT ALL SERIOUSNESS, this is fucking gold; i love you for sending this.

tw!! ooooohh they get into it yall. carmen being a man (ik, i’m sorry). some suggestive content. happy ending.

bf boxer!carmy and reader fighting!!

concept 1. concept 2. bf boxer!carmy hcs.

ok, so, me thinks bf boxer!carmy and his pretty broad actually argue a lot. so often it teeters just on the edge of being unhealthy. but, they also know each other and realize they’re two petty asf ppl (😭😭). so, even though they argue often, it’s usually over stupid shit, or their little fears (like who was supposed to wash the dishes that night, or how carmy’s profession holds a great deal of power over his life, enough to take it away—

she tries hard not to think about it too much; that argument is a losing game).

if carmy’s being frank, it’s half the reason he’s so fucking obsessed in love with her. she’s feisty—she’s trouble, and carmy’s never been good at staying out of it, even before he was the one starting the fights.

however…

when they fight—oh boy! do they fight.

i’d like to think bf boxer!carmy has a hugeeeee jealousy problem (lil insecure loser ☹️🫶🏽), and so that’s usually how their more heated fights begin.

i think their very first BIG fight has to do with a mix of his jealousy issue and the nature of how their relationship came to be.

allow me to set the scene:

so carmy wins the fight against timmy boy (surprise??) and starts talking to his pretty broad, finds out her and timmy aren’t exclusive, just messing around, and takes the green light.

a few weeks go by and everything is going smoothly—you know, the usual, extravagant dates and expensive gifts, lots of pampering and affection from both ends; the rose-hued, honeymoon stage—and carmy invites her as his plus one to some big party/event for his job.

he knocks on the front door of her apartment at 7:15 pm on the dot with a stunning bouquet—baby’s breath and lilies and anemones—of flowers in his right hand. he’s dressed to the nines; a fitted black tux—double breasted, with peak lapels, and slightly high-waisted trousers—and a brown dress-shirt, first thee to four buttons undone (whore 🥸) with a black chiffon, nearly iridescent slip over it that makes that same brown look an earthy, rich green at a swift glance. one gold bracelet, one gold ring for each hand (middle and pinky fingers), his unnecessarily attractive little gold hoop earrings, and a simple gold crucifix hangin’ ‘round his neck.

he raps his busted knuckles against the door with his left hand, and then patiently leans against the frame and awaits the telltale sign of her heels against the hardwood floors.

he counts to seventeen before her front door is swinging open.

the first thing he notices is that smile (that smile, the one she only ever gives to him—not eddie (god forbid), or nacho, or benny, or fucking timmy—just him). pearly whites, with bow and cherry gems (i loveeee teeth gems if my pfp didn’t make that clear), on display, framed by those plump, painted lips—brown liner, blackberry pink lipstick, and a nice, shiny gloss—that never seem to leave his head; burned into his memory, melded to his mind.

his eyes drop to the baby pink toes he’s become far too fond of, the white strap and silver chain of her dior heels placed prettily over top. flits his appraising gaze up to her ankles, the left one wrapped in the anklet he gifted her on their fourth date, a (boxing) glove charm hanging from the gold link. up—up, up, up—they go, trailing the soft ruffles and tedious buttons lining her long sleeve knit dress, hem hitting just at her shin, tight fitting—cinched to her figure—with a swoop neckline that shows off just the right amount of cleavage.

he stops when his eyes find hers again, brown sugar and saccharine.

he pushes off the door frame and steps through, ‘til they’re standing toe to toe and her head is awkwardly bent backward so she can keep eye contact.

“hi, bear,” she chirps, soft and taunting. grins at him while her jewel adorned hands slide up the smooth lapels of his tux.

the left corner of his mouth kicks up into a smirk as he snakes his left arm around her waist, dragging her closer.

his head spins with the scent of cinnamon and evergreen, and he wants to nuzzle in her neck because of it.

“hey, cub,” he rumbles back, and neither of them acknowledge the way she practically melts into her, she just curls her fingers into his lapels, and he tightens his hold on her waist.

she looks at the flowers in his right hand, “those for me?”

carmy turns his head to look at the flowers, lifts his hand with a noisy crinkle to present ‘em to her.

still, he shakes his head, puts on his best poker face and huffs, “nah, i’m taking that real pretty broad down the hall on a date tonight. just dropping in to say ‘hi’.”

her grin drops, face flat, eyes narrowed.

she unfurls her fists from his jacket, starts pushing him away, out from where he came.

“well, since we’ve finished swapping pleasantries—”

this time when he huffs, he’s huffing out a laugh, “i’m kidding. hey, baby, i’m kidding. swear.” he drops the flowers (unimportant; he can get more if she really wants them) to the ground at the side of their feet and wraps his other arm around her waist, crowding her space, barely giving her room to breathe, let alone slip from his grasp.

she wriggles in his hold, still shoving uselessly at his firm chest. “carmen, let go—”

and, well he’s definitely in trouble, but there’s not much to be done about that now, is there?

he takes both her tiny, pounding fists and locks them behind her back in one fell swoop “never. now look at me.”

she looks into the hallway, just over his shoulder, to piss him off.

his eye threatens to twitch.

“look at me, cub. don’t make me say it again.”

she rolls her brown sugar eyes, but does thereafter shift her gaze to look at him. raises an impatient brow.

“i’m sorry for saying that. it was a shitty joke—”

“it wasn’t fucking funny, carm.”

he grunts, “all right. wasn’t funny, i’m sorry, baby.”

she continues to glare at him for another 30 to 45 seconds, but then her shoulders are slumping and her face is scrunching in that cute little pout and she’s whining like a sweet little baby.

“wasn’t funny, bear,” she grumbles, and carmy snickers.

“y’already said that; gimme a kiss.”

she shakes her head, fussy, and now it’s carmy’s turn to raise an impatient brow.

“what was that? speak up, baby.”

“no,” she groans, stomping her foot, trying to free her hands from behind her back, but there’s no way she’s getting out now, not if she wants to act like a brat.

“try again.”

“n—”

he yanks her into his chest, “try the fuck again.”

but when has she ever just willingly rolled over?

“let me go, carmen.”

“give me a fucking kiss, cub.”

—

they show up to carmy’s work gathering an hour and a half late, but who’s fucking fault is that (this, too, is a losing game)?

when they step into the venue together, all eyes immediately fall on them. how could they not?

carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto, the bear, and his new girl.

timothy ‘timmy’ grayson’s ex girl.

they don’t let it phase them, the side eye and poorly disguised whispering, just find their way to their way to the open bar and mingle with their inner circle.

the night quickly descends from business to casual, but that could just be because they were so late. as the older patrons slip out, the inconsequential jazz humming in the background is shut off, and then the ceiling is shaking with the bass of keep it g by asap rocky.

somehow, carmy’s on his second glass of bourbon and his girl just finished her third glass of wine and they’re…tipsy.

it’s not even like the song playing is inherently sexual, at all, really, but carmy’s lips are trailing over the back of her neck, uncoordinated—messy—and his fingers are digging into her hips because the way she’s fucking grinding on him should not be legal.

“god, cub,” he grunts in her ear, rolling his hips back into her.

“mhmm,” she moans in the back of her throat, subdued, swallowed down, and places her hands over his that grip at her like a lifeline. she lets her head fall back, settle in the crook of his neck so she can nose at the hinge of his jaw and suck a pretty hickey there, too.

he fully thrusts into her, the bass of the speakers muffling the too audible slap of their bodies connecting.

she squirms and squeaks, “bear!”

he growls, “what?”

she giggles in the shell of his ear. “down, boy. i gotta hit the restroom.”

carmy, very reluctantly, lets her slip from his grasp and venture to find the woman’s room. he nurses on another drink—whiskey, this time—but paces himself as he waits for his girl’s return.

that is, until he sees his girl in question talking with timothy fucking grayson. then, he downs the rest of his drink like water and calmly—calmly—walks up to them.

now, if (and this is a very big fucking if) carmen wasn’t being a complete a***** ******* ****** ***** *****, then maybe he would’ve noticed the rather unkempt state of his pretty broad, her soured expression and guarded body language.

he was being a complete redacted though, so he just steps behind her with his chest puffed and his jaw set, just itching for timmy to say something fucking stupid.

and that stupid fucking smirk on his stupid fucking face might scratch that itch just enough to satiate him.

“what’re y’doin’ with my girl, timmy?”

he doesn’t register the way she bristles against him at the term.

my girl.

“just makin’ friendly conversation,” he shrugs, still smirking, and carmy has never wanted his knuckles to split so fucking bad.

“friendly conversation?” he nearly coos back, the condescending, possessive prick. “why don’t y’find someone else to go make friendly conversation with, yeah? fuck off.”

he walks away before timmy boy gets the chance to respond, dragging his girl behind him.

when they make it back to the bar, he finally has the decency to assess his pretty broad. or, hound her, more like.

"what was he sayin' to you? and what the hell were you doin' with him in the fuckin' first place? if he bothers you again you come straight to me, understood?"

he's met with silence.

he frowns, looks down at his girl to find the same expression on her face, and goes to repeat himself. "i said, underst—"

"take me home, carmen."

his frown deepens. he bends in the knee to try and catch her eyes, but she turns her head away as soon as he glimpses her brown sugar irises.

"cub—"

"take me home, carmen. now."

and they've fought, all right? small tiffs here and there, "pick your fucking shoes up, carmen!", "stop fucking touching shit, carm!", "god, carmen, just leave me alone!" but this is different. deeper.

he's still frowning as he nods, mutters "okay," softly, as to not upset her any further, and places his hand on the small of her back to guide out of the venue doors and out to the valet.

usually, after a date, carmen will pull in to a parking space and get out first to open the passenger door for his girl and walk her up to her apartment, before either getting sent off with a goodnight kiss or getting tugged through her front door to continue where they'd left off.

this time, though, she out the door before the cars even full parked.

carmen rushes to keep up with her takes the stairs to her apartment two at a time.

"cub, wait up!"

she does no such thing.

in fact, she only seems to move faster in lieu of his request (brat).

he nearly misses his window to at least say goodnight to her, with the way she quickly keys into her home and tries to slam the door in his face, but a foot in the frame easily rectifies that.

"hey!" he barks at her, shoving the door open and slamming it shut after him.

"don't slam my damn door, carmen!"

"don't try to slam your damn door in my damn face, then!"

she frustratedly groans, arms flailing in exclamation. he watches her cautiously as she looks frantically for something—something, anything—before she's bending down to take off her dior heels.

clearly, something has pent up—boiled, festered—within her, because she chucks a shoe at his head (and for someone so unassuming, she has a damn good arm).

he ducks just before it can hit him, instead banging into the wall.

"what the fu— ow!"

she doesn't miss the second time.

"fuck you, carmen!" she screams at him.

"fuck you! you just threw your fucking shoe at my head! twice!"

"and you fucking deserved it," she cries, taking a step closer to him, pointing an accusatory finger. "you dick!"

"what the fuck did i do?" he shouts back, taking a step forward himself, brows furrowed in frustrated confusion.

"you— y-you—"

he takes another step toward her, "huh? i what? spit it the fuck out, baby."

not for the first time, she pouts like a kicked puppy, and her hands brace on his sturdy shoulders, and she pushes at him, angry. but, certainly for the first, carmy actually loses his balance. nearly trips over his feet with the way he stumbles backward.

"ugh, asshole! you made a bet!"

he frowns, bewildered. "what?"

"don't fucking lie to me, carm—"

"baby, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"stop fucking calling me that!" she screams, "with timothy! you made a bet with him before the fight, a bet on me!"

carmy's mouth hangs open, forming to phantom explanations that all fall too short or get too intimate—personal; she doesn't need to know the backstory, the why in his road to success. she can't, not yet. not so soon.

she shoves him again at his lack of response, and, for the second time, carmy stumbles back.

"fuck you, carmy!" she screams, eyes brimming and— fuck, she was not supposed to find out this way (well, ever, really, but surely not in this way). he racks his brain for sufficient a justification.

"fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! is that how you fucking see me? i'm just another belt you meatheads pass around and compete for? fucking kill yourselves over?"

"that's not true, baby—"

"i'm not your fucking baby!" she goes to shove him again, but he's ready this time, steeled. she throws her weight into each nudge and push and shove she gives to him, grunts and grumbles through the exertion of it, but he's stock-still like a statue now, and immovable force to be reckoned with.

"you done?" he mutters when she's huffin' and puffin' too hard to keep going.

her eyes snap from his chest to his baby blues, glaring. "fuck—!"

"—me? yeah, you've already said that, several times actually. now are you gonna let me explain, or do you wanna keep screamin'?"

her eyes, somehow, narrow further, teeth barred.

carmy prepares himself.

"do i wanna keep screamin'? well, since you fucking offered," she gripes, pounding her fists into his chest again. and he lets her. "you don't fucking think, do you? just puff your chest and fucking take it if you want it, right? god, carmen, i'm not some fucking toy—"

"i never implied that you were—"

"so you didn't bet you could fuck me better than timothy at the weigh-in?"

he snaps his mouth shut.

she scoffs, shakes her head. "un-fucking-believable," she mutters under her breath.

she sighs, and the (arguably) worst is over. but it's not like he necessarily welcomes the tears, either.

she sniffles, red-rimmed eyes sparkling in a pool of saltwater, and weakly shoves at his chest again.

"f-fuck you, bear," she weeps softly, voice cracking, head hanging, and carmy's never wanted to fix something so badly in his whole goddamn life. more than mikey. "i thought you fucking liked me—

"i do—!"

"stop lying—!"

and suddenly, carmen's had enough.

"be quiet," he barks.

the room falls silent.

he sighs, grips hers arms to keep her close and up right. drops his head to rest on hers, eye-to-eye, and she's too tuckered out to fight it.

his adams apple bobs, "i'm sorry, y/n," he whispers, and she doesn't think she's ever heard him so earnest before, so sad. "i'm sorry i made a bet on you, and hurt your feelings because of it. you're not a toy, or a belt, or any other prize, boxing or not; you're a human fucking being. and i'm sorry."

she sniffles again, and he takes her lack of shoving and yelling as clearance to continue.

"i'm not fucking sorry it worked, though." he can feel her tense, so he hurries on before she gets the wrong idea. "i'm not fucking sorry i saw you in that damn pink dress, in your damn pink heels, with you fucking pink toes. i'm not sorry that i talked to you after the match, and made good on my promise to timmy."

"carmen—"

he squeezes the sides of her shoulders, "i'm not sorry 'cause i do like you, cub, so fucking much."

she lifts her head, teary eyes blearily finding his, and she frowns up at him, like she doesn't believe him.

"why're lying?" she whimpers, all watery and sad sounding, and carmy just wants to swaddle her in a blanket and kiss her tears away.

he smiles gently at her, "m'not lyin', baby. do you think i'd still be here if all i wanted was a fuck and duck? that's what the ring girls are for, cub."

she makes a face at him, "ew! g-ross, carmy, don't—!"

he bites back a smirk. "you drive me insane," cuts her off, sliding his hands from her arms to her shea butter smooth palms. "you drive me up the fuckin' wall, actually. but i love that about you. i love that you don't take anyone's shit, including mine. love that you put me in my place, and tell me off when i step out of line." his tongue peaks out to lick his chapped bottom lip before he continues. "i love the way you curl up in a ball every night before bed because you can't sleep any other way, and i love the way you bitch and moan about your bones feelin' too stiff in the morning because of it." he regards her fondly, eyes flitting over every feature. “i love your teeth gems, and your long ass nails. i love it when you’re bare-faced and bushy-tailed, or when you’ve got a— what is it?”

she chokes on a snotty laugh, “a full beat?”

“a full beat!” he repeats, enthusiastic and beaming. they both take a moment to giggle, carmy’s hands finding purchase on her hips to draw her in, chest to chest. “i am sorry i hurt your feelings, cub, so fucking sorry. but i would make that bet ten fuckin’ thousand times over if it meant i’d end up anywhere with you.”

and now she’s crying for a whole different, much sweeter reason.

she pouts at him cutely, “bearrr!”

and it’s like nothing even happened.

“whaaat?” he groans, feigning annoyance. “snotty girl, look at those tears,” he tuts, “such a crybaby.”

“that’s not fair—!”

“hush,” he muses, walking them back toward her bedroom, deft fingers working to unfasten the many buttons of her dress. “you talk too much, anyone ever told you that? whatever, you should let me fuck you.”

“what?”

“you should let me fuck you.”

“you literally ate me out for an hour before we left, that’s why we were so fucking late. and who says you fuckin’ deserve it?”

carmy smirks, that’s his girl.

fuckin’ trouble.

he quirks a brow at her, fingers pausing their decent.

“you gonna let me earn it?”

—

a/n: hope u like it babies bc getting this done made me SICK (im serious i can’t fucking breathe right or swallow properly anymore 🙂‍↔️🫶🏽)

not proofread!!

[mikaikaika]

Creations last slightly glitchy conversation with sunny genuinely had me tearing up. There's something so sad about an entity that only understands itself in terms of its purpose as a tool and yet can't help but love anyway. Like protecting sunny is his purpose but he would choose to do it too.

Like we see it in the way he seems so curious about the world around him poking about and imitating what others do but he always ends off his exploration by dubbing whatever he was looking at okay or unimportant and going back to his task. He's built to serve a purpose - or at least that's how he sees it - but he has a real sense of life about him.

In his last moments he's telling sunny how to bury him to make sure his mission is completed successfully but he still, with 1% battery left, needs to tell her how loved she is. It's like the humanity comes bursting out of him for lack of better terminology.

Anon THIS. Just all of this. Like your message truly made me tear up.

How even in his last dying breaths - for the lack of a better word - all Creation could had in his mind was his purpose to cater to the eggs.

This is a big reason Creation's end parallels the end of Mars Rover Opportunity for me. Both of them in their last moments questioned if they have aplty served their purpose and reached out in ways that could surely be considered human. A reminder that even a bunch of wires and circuits can carry the spirit of human exploration and love has a way of being displayed in mysterious ways and unexpected places. Its last act wasn't a shutdown; it was a metaphorical embrace to the very child he aimed to protect.

There were so many emotions we could say Creation unknowingly reflected in his last moments like fear, vulnerablity, hope but the one that shined most at the end of the day was truly love <3

[jalwyn21]

Another day, another bunch of psycho swifters threatening to kill Joe .. It's almost July 2024... When are the deranged lunatics gonna move on from him ?

[industrations]

Hi!

So I was wondering which dutch pronouns you use, because when I look at non-binary pronouns in Dutch I always see different ones (if you don't mind answering obv).

Hi hi, i guess hun/hen would make the most sense. I don’t know. I don’t really have any friends irl in the Netherlands that i’m out to so they just stick with good ol she/her. Although in dutch i don’t really care as much as in english. It’s whatever. I don’t know, gender is weird and people are not used to using it in dutch which kinda sucks