#⛈⛈

[shouyuus]

sry i simply cannot stop thinking about adlers!kageyama seeking you out for a kiss after every game like is a post-game ritual of his. bc like. he's a touchy person by nature and whether it was a good game or a bad game, all he wants is to feel u against him, all he wants is to press in close, to be able to press his fingers into your skin, kiss you till ur both a bit dizzy, either it's to commiserate and seek comfort after losing or to celebrate and ride out his own high of winning, it's the thing he looks forward to the most.

during an post-match interview, he's visibly distracted, glancing off-screen, barely answering the interviewer's questions; she laughs and asks if he's looking for his gf cause it's pretty well known by now that he's a simp of a bf despite what he looks like, and he jerks around, nodding like "yeah, have u seen her? i need my uh --" he cuts off, blushing, but the interviewer presses on like "oh, is there a post-match ritual with your gf?"

kageyama just shrugs, "yeah. something like that."

and later, during another player's interview, you can clearly see kageyama and you in the back, you going up on your tip toes and him bending down to kiss you before someone blocks the view but there's def grainy zooms of it on insta and tiktok within MINUTES of the interview going live.

the next time the interviewer asks, kageyama doesn't even try to hide it anymore and just says, "yeah, need my post-match kiss," before bowing out to go find you.

[fir3flytv]

JASON TODD yearns for you. He wants you in every way, shape, and form. You're his everything. You're his reason for being. When he thinks of the perfect being, he thinks of you, flaws and all. He takes you as you are. Everything about you, he loves, even the bad. Because you wouldn't be you without them. You'd be someone else. Not his love. The way he looks at you, it's like you crafted every star from hand, every crater in the moon, and every land mass on earth. Every touch he places on you feels like he thinks he's unworthy to be in your presence. JASON TODD needs you. You're a constant. You're his constant. When he looks at his future, he sees you. He sees love. He loves you. He's in love with you. A light in his second life, one he would never take for granted. <3

[fell-e]

they both really want jamil to take a break

[hyphrus]

♡

Ena5 Mizuena layout

Not requested/self indulgent

Matching on main with pookie... ^_^

Creds required, reblogs and likes appreciated

[revasserium]

₊‧⁺ WELCOME TO THE NEXT DECADE — and... here we are! the masterlist of my 30 under 30(0) drabble event! thank you everyone for your requests! pls do continue to send them in!!! and i will continue to add more drabbles to this list as i write them! but without further ado, the fics —

baking w/ ume; umemiya, req-ed by @ambiguouslady42

a series of firsts; haruka sakura, req-ed by @peachsukii

hold on tight (and don't let go); kageyama, req-ed by @yogurtkags

cooking w/ kuroo; kuroo, req-ed by @awkwardchick87

sweet nothings; akaashi, req-ed by @fuckinglevi

sugar rush; zayne, req-ed by @skiagrafia

rainy day romance; rafayel, req-ed by @purpleqilinwrites

feeling green; suo hayato, req-ed by @hayatoseyepatch

sleep-less; kuroo, req-ed by anon

a study of hands; kageyama, req-ed by anon

play, fight; zoro, req-ed by @babygurlenthusiast

forever calling; kageyama, req-ed by @mcdonaldsnumberone

a promise of eternity; suo hayato, req-ed by @ishancovr

sun's out; hinata, req-ed by anon

all's fair; hinata, req-ed by @phroggii

一剪玫 (one cut rose); zayne; req-ed by anon

the story so far; sakusa; req-ed by anon

乖猫 (good kitty); zayne; req-ed by anon

even the rain; akaashi; req-ed by @anonymilk

itty bitty tiddy committee; xavier; req-ed by anon

a study in gentility; sugawara; req-ed by @uhohitsemmy

creature comforts; zoro; req-ed by anon

stranger than fiction; sugawara; req-ed by anon

shower thoughts; tsubakino; req-ed by @grimmweepers

counting stars; nirei; req-ed by anon

personal best; kiryu; req-ed by @acidsbeats

captain's orders; shanks; req-ed by anon

it's a date; hinata; req-ed by anon

perfect match; suo; req-ed by @irisesaregreen

only the sun; tamaki; req-ed by @dira333

as i said, the event is still far from over, so please, please don't be shy and send in a request, or three!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

[sashi-ya]

𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑫𝑺 ⛈ [chapter 1: introduction] 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭! 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐅! 𝐂𝐄𝐎! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

⇝ Interactive fic format welcome to the first chapter! as mentioned previously this will be an interactive fic! how does it work? by the end of every chapter you will find a poll section where you will be able to vote for what's coming in the next chapter! what will reader do? what will be the consequences? have fun! ⇝ tw: the story is set to be an awakening for reader. you will find topics as loneliness, hints of depression and suicidal tendencies. be specially careful if this topics are triggering for you. there is no smut in this chapter, but it will be in the following ones. ⇝ don't forget to vote at the end of every chapter! ⇝ masterlist

Nobody, never, told you no. And nobody, ever, will. Miss Independent. Miss Successful. The Boss.

“I don’t care about a stupid storm, get me a damn ticket NOW” you order. The sound of your voice echoes against the many glass windows of your rooftop office. You don’t mind, nor care for your safety… all you have in your life is your job. Biggest enterprise that leads many markets and won’t ever stop growing. At least not on your watch.  

Your hills click harder against the cold marble of the floor, a tuft of hair gets curled around your finger, the insides of your mouth are heavily bitten. Nobody, however, knows you can get anxious. And nobody should, either.

“The… the airport is closed, Miss” your assistant, Usopp, informs.

Your eyes are glued to the blurred image of the city. You can see almost all of it from your position. And it’s that, exactly, what money and power makes you feel; like you are above them all.

“Then get the jet” you venously spit, as if your assistant was stupid enough not to think of that already. “I don’t give a fuck if it’s closed, we are taking off from the vineyard runway”

You notice your secretary nervously trying to find any type of words that could stop you from doing such stupidity, but he finally gives up and simply says “yes, boss...”

He walks away, already with his phone in his hands. He needs to call the private pilot on a Thursday night, with a cyclone outside, just because you couldn’t wait.

The tuft you’ve been playing with around your finger is now behind your ear. You tucked it. As always, your hand did it. Your long red nails did. Loneliness never made you less successful; in fact, quite the opposite.

Through the glass wall, covered in uncountable raindrops, your blurred vision finally fixes into the many buildings around. All of them, so late in the evening, begin to show candid lights throughout them. Families that join and play together. Lonely people hugging their pets. Couples dancing and kissing, or even looking through their windows. None of them, but you, show a single silhouette tonight.

“Boss, I’m- I…” your assistant breaks your bubble of hate and self-awareness. “The pilot says he is not flying tonight. It’s too dangerous” he excuses himself. In fact, his head bowed down exposes how mortified he is by not being able to accomplish your orders.

You turn around and massage your temple. There is a very important meeting you need to attend tomorrow morning. You can’t wait.

“Put Doffy on the line and leave me alone” you straight and coldly say.

He nods, leaving immediately, closing the heavy doors behind him. Not even five seconds after, the sound of your phone announces  Mr. Donquixote is waiting on the line.

“My sweet (Name), to what do I owe the pleasure of your call? Are you feeling lonely tonight? You can come home whenever you can” the excentric billionaire, who you sometimes fuck with, sings through the phone.

“I need your private pilot. Now. Flying my jet from the vineyards” you say, not much information is given. He probably understands.

He laughs. Extremely loudly.

“No pilot will take you anywhere tonight but let me see if my nephew wants to risk his life. The kid wants to die often, and apparently you too” he keeps laughing while telling you such terrible statement.

“I need a pilot, not a kid Doflamingo” “He is, indeed, a pilot. Give me twenty minutes, I’ll send it to your vineyard. But you owe me one… you know exactly those lips are my weakness”

Done. Problem fixed. You always know who to call when you need something; you know nobody really cares about your wellbeing but only the things they could get in return if you owe them something.

A carry on is always packed with essential stuff on your office; many are the times you spend travelling compared to those you spend at your own house. You grab it along with your coat and your keys.  You don’t wait for your chauffer; you don’t want to hear blabbering about safety.

“It’s just rain. What’s gonna happen? Am I getting my stilettos wet? So what?”

There isn’t much traffic, the many lights are indeed going the opposite way to yours. Everybody seems to be returning home, while you are driving straight to the outside of the city. Your vineyards aren’t that far but are certainly on a much rural zone.

Thunder roar in the open sky, the darkest night seems to be only illuminated by the power of those flashing lights inside growing grey towers of fluff.

“Bet is gonna be a very fun flight ~” you hum, as you imagine the little powerful plane crossing the menacing clouds ahead.

It takes you little time to arrive to your destination, the engine of your car is way more powerful than most of the automobiles out there.

Right by the door of your vineyards, a man that seems to be on the bones, salutes you.

“Yohohoho! What are you doing here, Boss? Welcome! Do I prepare a glass of Merlot or maybe a Pinot Noir for you tonight? ” he asks, taking his hat off, revealing an amazing afro underneath.

“Brook, take this to the jet. The pilot will be here at any minute, he is a new one so let him pass the door” you instruct your housekeeper, throwing your carry on at him.

His eyes, deep into the sockets of his skull, open wide. Of course, nobody expects you to fly with such storm outside… but that’s just you, and exactly how you are.

“Sure, Boss. I’ll sort everything out for you right away”

You take a swift look at the main house of your vineyards. Everything is perfectly clean and well kept. You are satisfied; your personnel works perfectly well. Except your private pilot, that one is already fired.

You sit down, flopping maybe onto a fancy couch. Nobody is watching, you are allowed to rest for at least just a moment. However, the calm lasts no longer than a couple of seconds.

“Miss (Name), the pilot is here” Brook comments, making your shut eyes to open slowly and -mostly- annoyed. You didn’t expect to see a man standing right next to your employee, but there he is.

“Who are you? why aren’t you on the plane already?” you ask, not even standing up but crossing your legs as you stiff your back muscles. Your thighs, flash a little bit of them underneath the cut of your pencil tight skirt. Your red nails carve on the sides of the armchairs.

The man, of steel eyes and dark hair smirks just a little with defiance and superior demeanour. Something you most likely don’t fancy but makes your insides… anxiously alive.

Wearing nothing but a private pilot uniform, he stands right in front of you. It shows that he is clearly not used to serve, but to be served. And you soon remember this man, who’s been called a “kid”, is in fact Donquixote Doflamingo’s nephew.

“You must be Doffy’s nephew; you are just like him; you don’t bow before anyone. Don’t you?” you ask, this time standing up. Not even your high heels are enough to surpass his height.

He hums. “Trafalgar Law, and I’m not like him” he spits. Apparently he is not only spoiled, but also hates his own family. “I’m not here to work for you, I am here because I’ve been told you needed a favour. You should know how to fly planes by now” he states.

You burn. How dare him tell you are not independent enough.

“Indeed, I do. Apparently you aren’t aware of the fact that I can’t fly without another pilot because of stupid laws and regulations. This isn’t a helicopter; this is a jet” you inform him, walking right pass him and asserting dominance with your hand on his shoulder.

You look him in the eye with a side look. Law, does the same. You are close, so close you can hear his breathing. And your image, imponent and beautiful, reflects on the golden hoops that hang from his right ear.

Both, intensely fight in silence. For what, however, none of you exactly know. And the energy between you two, could probably alter the weather, and the world itself…

“Come on, I have no time to waste. I need to be in London by tomorrow morning” you break the silence. Walking towards a big hall that takes you to the hangar, you turn around just for a couple of seconds to give a last lethal look at your new young companion.

Just a hint of flustered cheeks show in his face, but it’s enough for you to feel like you have won the battle of dominance. Or that’s what you thought.

The heavy steps behind you, makes you internally smile. You are used to be followed by almost mute employees, walking on eggshells not to piss you off. But Law is different; he is not doing this for the money, nor status. He is as suicidal as you, flying in this weather should be prohibited… in fact, it is. But the rich never ask for permission. You are know you are above everything else. And that includes the clouds, too.

“Give me a second, let me sort the charts” Law says, taking a look at the papers in his hands before climbing into the jet.

You nod, as you do the same with your laptop. Something inside you tells you to stop; that those conditions will bring more than mere turbulence. Yet, your cold heart, tells you something louder than your reason; “who cares if something happens, after all? Just do it”

Half an hour after, and a couple of swift looks at each other, Law and you are already set to departure.

For the first time since he arrived you notice the tattoos on his hands; knuckles inked with the word “D.E.A.T.H” rip a scoff from you. It is quite funny to you, that those hands could most likely either fly you to death if you aren’t lucky enough, or to London if you are.

“We don’t need to fly now, we can wait until the conditions seem better” Law murmurs, as those inked fingers turn on every button of the plane. “Your plans aren’t more important than any life”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOh. So, he is not that willing to die as Doffy said…

[dandysworldhcs]

I like to think that Shrimpo’s skin is very dry and sensitive on land but in water he flourishes

For Finn’s room since we haven’t seen it I like to think there’s fishtanks with fishes for him to study

My hc is that Poppy and Finn are cousins due to water:)

Also for Poppy I think she and Glisten would be fashion buddies

Another for Finn would be that he REALLY wants to study Shrimpo to learn more about his species

When Boxten is working I feel like if he gets kinda really zoned in his music box will go off and he wont even realize until he’s done whatever he’s doing or if someone gets his attention

I feel like Cosmo can’t cook for the life of him but can bake incredibly well and Sprout cant bake but he can cook

Anyways… I shall return again one day so may I be ⛈️💫 anon if its not taken?:)

THESE ARE SO GOOD, keep it up!!!

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Cult of the First Mutant, Scenario One, Reader "Chatting" with Col. William Stryker:

Reader: in human form, trapped in a glowing ring of signs and sigils and circles on a freezing metal floor in a hidden base

Stryker: What... is this creature? This isn't the beast depicted in those old scraps of paper!

Reader: Um... hi? ���

Stryker: Is it some kind of mutant freak? Get a chain or a leash for it; we'll see if they can fit our needs...

Reader: Wait, what?!

Guards: approaching

Reader: scared and p*ssed

Reader: ENOUGH!!! turns into their "divine" form

Stryker, the scientists, and guards: 😨😰😟

Reader: You little freakin' jerk! That is NOT how you treat people!

Stryker: What-

Reader: snaps their fingers, and everyone but Stryker goes still

Reader: You're a hateful little man, you know. Blegh. I don't know how you sleep at night...

Stryker: I've done everything to ensure the survival of the human race! I've caged beasts just like you! All of your kind will be dead!

Reader: cracks their neck Is that so? Tell me, oh "great" Colonel, was it worth it?

Stryker: What?

Reader: Was it worth it, to kill your son?

Stryker: I did no such thing! That- that thing wasn't my son! My son died the moment those ungodly powers manifested!

Reader: Hmmm... no. Your hatred, your fear, has driven you... not the need to "protect mankind" or whatever cr*p you jerks tell people...

Stryker: He killed my wife!

Reader: You took him away from the only man who could help him control his powers! What happened was an accident! One that would have been avoided if you and your wife weren't ableist, unknowing, toxic people!

Stryker: Listen here you-

Reader: LISTEN TO ME, YOU LITTLE B********! YOU, BECAUSE OF YOUR BLIND, FEARFUL HATRED, KILLED YOUR SON! YOU AND YOUR WIFE PUSHED HIM, HURT HIM, AND ISOLATED HIM! THIS! IS! YOUR! FAULT!

Stryker: I... I...

Stryker: falls to his knees

Stryker: I have nothing...

Reader: You've hurt countless others, killed them, butchered them, and ripped them from their families, their homes, their lives... you've even hurt two of my friends...

Stryker: visibly pales

Reader: But... I'm here to offer you a chance to do better. A way to take back most of the harm you've caused. I'll set you back in the past, with the knowledge of all of this; you'll have your wife, your son, and your job; but- you will never join the Weapon X Program. You will not spread mutant hate and racism. You can live quietly with your family, having a happy life, or stand up for mutant rights, or convince your friends in the government to focus on other, more useful, advances in history... I offer all of this freely... but don't take this for granted... this is a one-time offer, and if you say no... that is on you...

Stryker: ... I... I accept...

Reader: Good... I don't think you're entirely evil, Mr. William, but you're a broken man who let his fears and prejudices best him... with this choice, you take it all back, and start anew. You should feel proud of yourself; not everyone accepts such a choice

Stryker: What... what will I do? What... what would you have me do?

Reader: Well... what about medicine? Or mental health? Not that snake oil or psycho surgery nonsense, but perhaps helping others, understanding them, and finding ways to make their lives just a bit better?

Stryker: ... okay

Reader: Good! Well, then, good-bye, then, Mr. William; welcome to the right side-

Reader: snaps their fingers, and everything fades away...

(And this is why it's Dr. Cornelius who was experimenting, and there was no mention of Stryker! Because Reader offered him a chance to do better, and he actually took it!) (Of course, he's also a bit shaken by seeing Reader, who old scrolls and temples called the First Mutant, but, well, he has his family back, so he's ready to accept whatever they say-)

(Woo! Powerful and confused Reader!)

[sunshades]

heathcliff experiencing reverse dysphoria getting to be "a cis man" but then being like 3 apples tall and having a horrible time and wanting his body back while sinclair is finally a big strong man and then feels... for some reason incredibly weird and uncomfortable about it... it's ok she'll figure it out

[mammonswhore]

The Day Before the Test

tags: Satan x afab!fem!mc.

warnings: cockwarming, soft dominant behavior, studying, overstimulation, established relationship, very fluffy and domestic at the end.

"Fuck..." Satan grunts as his fingers sink on MC´s flesh as she tries to keep steady and keep on reading. That´s what this was all about.

"I can´t... Is too much" She whines, bouncing (or trying to do so) on a foolish attempt to get some sort of movement or reaction from him. Sadly her attempts were shut down as Satan´s fangs sank on her shoulder making her yelp in pain.

"You look so whorish like this, love." He says sadly, grabbing her face and forcing her to look at him sideways. "I am sorry but you should´ve studied and I wouldn´t have to be doing this."

His voice sounds silk smooth, as if he were soothing the scars of his nails on her hips. He sounds angelic even for someone born from wrath. Satan is lovely, he is a gentleman and a man of honor so he can´t let his precious girlfriend to fail.

"It´s for your own good" He said when he proposed his idea. It worked, it really did. Satan promised MC to try on tail fucking if she passed her test with more than average and since he is a caring boyfriend he offered himself to help. MC thought of flashcards, timers, his own notes even but not cockwarming him for two and a half hours as she read and took notes from her study books.

Tears accumulate on her eyes, it´s been two hours of shaking, whining and pleading yet he seemed so calm and composed. MC couldn´t take it anymore, a choked sob escaping her as she collapsed on his desk.

"The mitochondrion has two membranes, one internal and one external, in the middle of them there is an intermembrane where there are protons that adhere to the smallest proteins to pass to the internal membrane and reach the mitochondrial cristae... Please... Please just..." MC talks between cries, begging for him.

There were no other words to describe it other than pathetic yet for Satan it was lovely, soothing even. Slowly he caressed her cheek and nodded with a smile. Satan pulled his chair back, his hands traveled to the back of MC´s thigh as he quickly stood up making her tears flow as a loud painful erupted from her throat.

"Can you walk?" He asks softly, putting her down to the floor and twirling her to face him. She nods and walks to Satan´s bed, a few steps that were quick yet they seemed like an eternity for both of them. MC sat on the edge of the bed looking drained and oh so divine. Satan could swear he could gobble her up, to him there was nothing more heavenly than her.

"Change of idea... You are going to ride me because I am still not sure if you have learned enough. Hop in, pretty girl." He smirks as he sits down and pulls her by the waist, she whines in complain and positions herself to sink him in in one sitting.

Satan interlocks their hands together as his free hand pushes her down on him, she moans and babbles little thank you´s repeatedly as Satan did all the effort of bouncing her up and down on him.

The sound of skin against skin filled the room, Satan´s moans were muffled as he bit down on MC´s breasts, twirling his tongue around her nipple. She shudders as she bounces herself in, pushing him down to the bed, he complies and is mesmerized with the view on top of him.

She bewitched him in all senses, his mind clouded with the fervor of having her in such a filthy manner. She was the only delusion he could fully indulge in without losing his pride, his affection knew no bounds if it was his one and only lover.

Satan grabbed MC´s waist as he started thrusting into her at a hurry, he couldn´t concentrate on anything anymore as she stabilized herself on his chest. Her back arched at the pleasure, as soon as he was sure she wouldn´t fall off, his hand traveled from her waist to her center to stimulate her so her walls could suck him dry. MC´s body jolts briefly as her orgasm approaches, her whines and moans get louder as she pleads mercy from him.

To her, Satan was completely lost on his element. Some of his blonde hair strands were sticking to his forehead, green eyes half lidded as he only stared at her in awe, mouth open gasping for air, cheeks flushed red, his neck was full of bites and scratches and so were his shoulders, MC could see exactly were their skins met. His free hand sank on her flesh, his grip cutting a little wound on her body making MC cry in pain. The feeling of her orgasm hitting her as pain and pleasure became one, the sensation only being topped with the overstimulation of Satan thrusting inside of her at a ferocious pace to reach for his own orgasm with a loud squealing noise.

Both of them panted as MC´s body gave up completely and fell on top of Satan who remained quiet as he hugged her tightly feeling himself go soft inside of her.

"Was this a heads up for when I have to study 'how to seduce a demon to give me his kids' lesson 1: be me" MC says tiredly, making Satan laugh and squeeze her.

"Shut up, if you want my kids so badly then better get studying because I will not have kids with a lazy procrastinating ass like yours." Satan jokes back getting himself a lazy slap on his chest, making him chuckle.

"Fine! But only because our kids will hate me if I make them stupid."

[shroomysharesart]

Made a little doodle of my Poseidon

I hope yall in the Poseidonverse will accept me and my lil goober

My reference sheet for Po 👇

[shouyuus]

18+, mdni, vi-shaped but what else is new

car mechanic!vi who's basically been working at her dad's autoshop hounds auto since she was like seven years old, running around handing vander the fuel pressure meter and fetching water, who grows up in the garage to the point that all vander's regulars know her by name and also all her favorite sweets (bc she DOES have a sweet tooth, despite her tomboy looks).

car mechanic!vi who's closet is exclusively stained gray tanktops, leather jackets gifted to her by all her dad's patrons, and old denim from thrift shops bc she likes how they feel worn in and also why bother getting "nice" clothes if they're just gonna get greased up anyway? who hums to herself when she's working, always has a cool beer chilling in the garage fridge and is doing her best to make sure she can send powder to caltech bc she knows her sister is a genius and is gonna be like a rocket scientist one day.

car mechanic!vi who laughs when you pull up one day with your 1960's cherry red corvette, climbing out of the driver's seat with your white fishnets and your pink croptop and your plaid miniskirt, your heart-shaped sunglasses propped on top of perfectly blown out bangs, and the only thing vi can think when she lands eyes on you is how much she'd enjoy taking you apart on the hood of your car, your thighs hiked onto her shoulders, your palm-prints inked into the bright red paint of your car.

car mechanic!vi who grins slow, slings a greasy towel on her shoulder as she comes out to greet you, hitching an eyebrow as you motion towards the car, your cheeks stained the most adorable shade of pink she's ever seen, saying --

"i think there's something wrong with it --" but when you purse your perfectly glossed, cherry-tinted lips, vi has to force herself not to lose focus because sweet baby jesus on a harley, that should be illegal.

"-- think you can help...?" you shuffle your feet, glancing at her even as she takes her time looking you over, doing nothing to hide the way her eyes rake over the length of your body and back up again.

"sure thing, sweets. mind if i pop the front?"

you swallow, nodding eagerly; vi doesn't miss the way your eyes linger on her arms and perhaps flexes harder than is absolutely necessary when opening up the front hood of the car.

car mechanic!vi who bends over to take a closer look and actually does miss the way you physically have to tear your eyes away from the bend of her ass, because holy shit? it does not help that vi shifts to lean further into the hood, a slip of skin peaking out from beneath her tanktop, and suddenly, there's a spring-water rush of blood behind your ears, threatening to drown out all other sound as she pulls back with a shrug.

"looks like the cooling system's busted," she says, scratching at the back of her neck, frowning as she looks back at you, "there's a couple things we can do --"

you swallow, "just a couple?" you ask, before you can stop yourself. you squeeze your eyes shut as the words leave your mouth. woops. fuck.

car mechanic!vi who blinks, cocking her head at you before a smirk teases across her lips. she leans back against the front of your car, crossing her arms loosely over her chest.

"yeah, for the car. but... dunno, if you wanna stick around for a bit, i can think of a ton more things we can do..."

you lick your lips, scuffing your mary janes against the cool pavement of her garage.

"define a bit... and also a ton..."

vi's grin is crooked; there's a fox-bright gleam in her eyes as she pushes off the car and makes her way towards you -- and for a moment, you can't help but wonder if she's a lamb in wolf's clothing, or perhaps (the thought singes a tantalizing line up your spine) just the damned wolf itself.

car mechanic!vi who tells you that for the car, she can either order all the parts that have suffered wear and tear, and then just replace them.

"issue with that is, in these older models, even with the parts replaced, it won't last you too long before you'll need them redone again."

"so..." you teeter, looking around at the various tools hung across the walls, every inch of space utilized to maximize efficiency, the high ceilings, the slow-turning fans, the propped up cars, some missing the front two wheels, some just a skeleton of mechanical parts.

"but lucky for you, one of my old man's pals just put a brand new crossflow radiator into his 1960's corvette, and he paid me to help him rig it. and i can do the same for you."

by the way vi smiles, it's obvious that this is the option she thinks you should go for. you blink.

"cross... flow... what?"

vi stares for a few seconds before letting out a startled laugh.

"wait -- i thought you said this was your car?"

you nod, fiddling with your hands behind your back.

"and... you've got no idea how to take care of a vintage car like this, do you?"

you shake your head, feeling a now-familiar heat prickling into your cheeks.

"my -- my dad got it for me for my 21st birthday..." you say, just on the other side of petulant.

car mechanic!vi who hums low in her throat and closes the distance between you in a few quick steps, a hand drifting up to trace along the line of our cheek.

"and you're just daddy's little princess, aren't you?" she asks, noticing with a dull ache in her belly, the way your breath hitches at the word princess.

she bites back another smirk as you bob your head once, your eyes flickering down to her lips before refocusing on her again.

"well..." she draws out the word, tugging back, a satisfied warmth pooling in her chest at the way your lips push out into perfect pout at her distance, "if you wanna give you daddy a call to ask what he might want..." she lets her words trail off. but you're already shaking your head, your eyes bright, your expression over-eager.

(she thinks you just might be the end of her; if she doesn't end you first.)

"no!" you squeak, "i -- i mean -- whatever you think is best --" you amend hurriedly, blushing something furious as vi leans back up against her workbench, her gaze locked on the shape of you, the hunger in her eyes now so evident that it sparks goosepimples down the lengths of your arms.

"yeah? you trust me that much, pretty girl?"

you nearly go into anaphylactic shock; your lashes flutter.

vi thinks she might honestly blow a fuse as you look shyly back at her, your gaze somehow both molten and hard.

"y-yeah. i do. i -- i trust you."

car mechanic!vi who wastes no time drawing up a plan for your repairs, but when you glance over the receipt, you notice that the number at the bottom is way, way too long, and you're fairly certain (even in your advanced stages of crush-induced lightheadedness) dollar amounts aren't usually broken up by dashes.

"is this... where i should send the payment?" you ask, holding up the handwritten receipt.

vi grins, tossing you a look over her shoulder as she steps out from behind the wheel of your car, now parked safely in her garage.

"nope. that's just my number."

"your..." you look back down at the scribbled series of digits. oh.

"so... are you gonna text me the final cost?"

vi chuckles, "sure, sweets -- if that's what you'd like. and if you're feelin' real frisky -- we can text about other stuff too."

your breath catches in your throat like thread around a barbed wire fence. you nearly drop the receipt.

"l-like what?" you ask.

"oh... i dunno..." vi says, the tease now obvious in her voice as she makes her way around the shop, gathering this tool and that, bending down to haul a massive toolbox from beneath a set of shelves. your mouth physically waters at the flex in her biceps as she carries it all back over to her workbench.

"maybe about the kinda coffee you like," she says, leisurely, "or how you'd like your eggs in the morning."

car mechanic!vi who wastes no time in asking if you'd like to go out the next day, because as much as she really loves the thought of pinning you to the hood of your car right then and there, a part of her wants to do this properly. and, she muses, there's no better foreplay than sharing a banana split sundae with a pretty girl.

she sends you on your way with the receipt tucked into your miniature handbag ("what's that even hold anyway?" "uhm... my card wallet, the keys, and lip gloss!" "...ah. of course. all the most essential things.") and a promise to pick you up the following day, since your ride's temporarily out of commission ("don't worry, sweets, i'll take real good care of this baby right here." you immediately wonder if it's normal to feel jealous of a car).

and pick you up she does, at 6pm on the dot, in black pants so tight they might've been painted on, and a cropped leather jacket, though you hear her revving her motorbike a full 30 seconds before her text dings on your phone --

look outside, sweetness.

car mechanic!vi who is so polite to your rather bewildered parents, smiles wide and charming, easily slips into conversation with your dad about the vintage cars in his collection, calls your mom "m'aam" and compliments her pearl earrings, promises not to keep you out too late. so that by the time she tells you to swing onto the bike behind her, you're convinced that your parents might like her more than they like you.

"hold on tight, princess." is all she says before she rips off down the street of your cul de sac and you're yelping, burying your face in her back, the leather of her jacket butter-soft and warm against your skin.

car mechanic!vi who's just a bit too smug and more than a little smitten when she has to help you off her bike in the parking lot of the cute little retro-themed diner downtown, you shaking out your hair from the helmet she'd handed you, your cheeks painted sunset as she guides you into the restaurant with a palm at the small of your back.

who enjoys talking to you way too much, who wants to bottle up the sound of your laughter in one of those old fashioned coca-cola bottles, all sweet and bubbly, and save it for the summer afternoons when the air's thick enough to slick the skin, pop it open and pour it down her throat, swallow around the sound of you, giggling into the curly fries, debating with her about the perfect ketchup-to-mustard ratio for the most optimum fry-eating experience.

car mechanic!vi who tells you that the sundaes here are the best in town, and nearly melts at how bright your eyes get, how excited you look as you nod and flag down the waitress to order one.

"just one?" the waitress asks.

"trust me, one is more than enough," vi answers smoothly, shooting you a wink that might've induced heart failure in a weaker soul (and you truly do not think you're one of god's strongest soldiers bc you definitely had to take a mental breather after that).

but it turns out that she was quite right, because the banana split is huge. dauntingly-sized. and vi perhaps has too good of a time watching you gape over it (she's not at all thinking about how your cute lil mouth, so round now, would look stretched over her strap, not at all nope, nope, nope) before motioning for you to dig in.

car mechanic!vi who thinks, for the first time, that she might've bitten off more than she can chew (metaphorically, of course) when you cut off way too big of a bite, and white whipped cream smears across your lips as you struggle to get the whole thing in your mouth, your cheeks puffed out, lashes fluttering.

"careful there, sweets -- don't want you to hurt yourself," she says, in a decent stab at her usual suave tone, but her voice comes out just a bit hoarse as she reaches out to try and wipe some of the whipped cream from your lips at the exact moment your tongue flicks out to do the same --

her stomach clenches as your tongue accidently laves along the pad of her thumb and the dollop of cream drops onto the table between you.

"whoops," you say, your shoulders shrugging up as you finally swallow the bite of banana and cream, reaching for a napkin to wipe your mouth before dabbing at the tabletop.

when you glance up at vi, she's still staring, her expression strangely blank as you meet her eyes. but the second your gaze catches on hers, you see the way her pupils dilate, darkness eating into pre-dawn blue.

car mechanic!vi who tries her level best not to fidget too hard as the pair of you diligently make your way through as much of the sundae as possible, before you toss down your fork with a sigh, shaking your head.

"wow, i'm so full!"

"mm... could be fuller, i'm sure," vi murmurs into your ear, grinning when you shiver at the low sway of her voice, the gentle dance of her fingers on your waist.

"v-vi!" you squeak, even as she ushers you from the diner with a bright grin at the waitress, promising to come by again soon, and to send their love to her dad and younger sister.

and fuck, she really did think she wanted to take this slow, but holy shit, she can't wipe the image of you swallowing around the mouthful of cream from her mind, the feeling of your warm tongue as it'd flicked across the pad of her thumb.

"c'mon, sweet girl," she says, grazing her lips along the soft spot behind your ear and your knees almost buckle then and there, but her strong arm is looped around your waist as she helps you back onto her bike and cups your cheeks, "god, you have no idea what you do to me, huh?"

your breath hitches; what you do to her? what about what she does to you?

car mechanic!vi who can't help the way she presses in to kiss you, hesitating for a breath to ask can i? against your lips before you're nodding, just as eager as she is, and tugging her in to kiss her. you taste as sweet as she'd imagined (and lord, has she been imagining, even though it's been less than 24 hours), the lingering taste of whipped cream and chocolate syrup on your tongue as she licks hungrily into your mouth, moaning as you whimper, your thighs squeezing around her hips, your ass nearly slipping off the seat of her bike.

she hitches you back up without breaking the kiss, heat rolling up into her neck and shoulders as she feels your fingers twisting in her hair.

"f-fuck --" she pulls back breathless, her head spinning, her eyes caught on the press of your kiss-bruised lips, the way you purse them as you glance up at her, already looking so debauched she's tempted to pull you into the shadow of the diner and take you against the wall.

but, she falls half a step back and breathes, grinning crookedly as you pout at her.

"a-are you gonna take me back to your place, or not?".

car mechanic!vi who lets out a startled laugh and cocks her head, thinking that really there is a god, and that this -- just you, sitting on the black leather of her bike, your hair a bit mussed up, your cheeks flushed with color, asking her to take you to hers -- is all the proof she needs.

"you really are a spoiled little princess, aren't you?" she asks, swinging her leg over the bike seat and adjusting her grip. your arms loop around her middle and she tries not to groan at the feeling of your body pressing up against hers.

"well, daddy always told me that i shouldn't settle for anything less than the best," you say, and your voice would've been lofty, had it not been for the way you lean up to ghost your lips by the shell of vi's ear, chasing shivers down the length of her entire spine.

her stomach roils with heat. she turns to shoot you a smirk over her shoulder.

"well then. guess i'll just have to ruin you for every other girl who might come your way, huh?"

car mechanic!vi who definitely breaks the sound barrier tearing through the few streets separating the downtown strip and the auto shop, who's barely done parking the bike before she's pulling you bodily off the seat, hitching your legs around her waist and carrying you into the shop, slamming a hand on the switch to close the garage door.

she's already kissing you by the time she sets you on the hood of your car, the height of it perfect for her to pull back and pin you down by your wrists. she thinks that you have no business looking so perfect against the bright cherry of the paint, and grins as she looks you over, pressing a knee up between your legs just to hear your breath hitch and admire the way your cute little plaid skirt rides up.

car mechanic!vi who drops to her knees, pillows her cheek on your thigh and groans as she flips up the hem of your skirt to press her the flat of her tongue to the damp patch already soaking through your pink lace panties. who's mesmerized by the sight of you arching your back on the hood of your car, your fingers scrabbling at the smooth metal, reaching down till you can grip at her hair, your lips parting over your little whimpers and moans -- she thinks, faintly, that she wants to fuck you till your voice goes hoarse.

"vi -- what if -- is anyone -- ah --"

she can't help smiling at the way you can't quite get a full thought out, leaning back as she hooks her fingers around your panties and tugs them down your thighs till they're dangling off one of your delicate ankles.

"no one's here, sweetness -- so you can be as loud as you want," she says, reaching down to slick her fingers between your pussy, admiring the shine on her skin.

"b-but what if -- mmngh -- someone c-comes -- b-back --"

and it's cute, really, how worried you are about all of it, even as she teases a finger around your sodden hole, her thumb flicking up against your clit, making your body jerk up. she smiles, easing a finger in with a soft groan of her own, relishing the way you squeeze around her.

"mm, well -- let's see..." she says, her voice low and steady even as she tugs back her finger and pushes it in again, slow as anything, "my dad's out drinking at my uncle's bar across town, and my baby sister's at benzo's place with ekko --" she allows herself a crooked grin as you keen around her just as she presses a second finger into you, "they said they were studying but..." she shrugs, her eyes hooded as she watches you squirm beneath her, "i'm pretty sure they're hooking up so --" she runs a tight circle around your clit with her thumb, puffing out a breath as your thighs clamp shut around her wrist and she has to pry them back open with her other hand, pinning your knee to the hood of your car, keeping your other leg still with one of her's.

"the only person you gotta worry about coming... is yourself, princess."

car mechanic!vi who fucks you through two orgasms, eats you out for a third, before finally letting up and carrying you up to her bedroom above the auto shop, asking if you want to text your parents that you're staying the night.

you do, and vi only teases you a little bit about being such a good girl, but she lets you burrow in against her chest, lets you kiss her neck and tug her phone from her hands before planting one on her lips and trailing your way down her chest, tugging at her tanktop till she laughs and pulls it from her body.

car mechanic!vi who nearly loses her mind when you look up at her from between her legs, all wide eyes and parted lips, pressing your perfectly manicured nails into the corded muscles of her thighs and asking her in the sweetest voice to

"show me what you like -- please? i -- i wanna make you feel good too."

car mechanic!vi who fucks your face till both of you are breathless, her hips bucking up against your perfect mouth, her mind fizzling out at the edges at the way you're moaning into her cunt, the way you're grinding your hips down over nothing as she talks you through how to eat her out just the way she likes. who jerks you up and hauls you into her lap to kiss you sloppy, her fingers digging into the meat of your hips as she grinds you down over her still-throbbing clit, who fucking can't get over the sight of you riding her even as both of you tip into the realm of overstimulation, whining and keening and you collapsing onto her in the muted, twilight dark of her room.

"h-holy shit..."

vi laughs, "yeah. you can say that again."

you look up, a soft, pliant smile, "holy shit, violet..."

and the sound of her name on your lips convinces her, more than anything, that (contrary to all her big talk earlier), you're definitely the one who's ruined her for any other girl who might come her way.

car mechanic!vi who wakes up to your lips on hers, who groans into the taste of you, kissing you, rolling over to pin you beneath her even as the early morning sun spills lemon-bright and spring-water-sweet through her half-closed blinds.

"morning, princess," she mumbles against your lips.

"morning..." you giggle, gasping as she drops a tender kiss to your shoulder.

"sleep well?" she asks, trailing down the smooth skin of your chest till she can lave her tongue around your puffy nipple.

"mm --" you suck in a breath, "y-yeah -- had -- had good d-dreams -- a-ah!" you arch up into her, your body soft and warm as a daydream, and she just can't get enough.

"yeah? tell me... what'dyou dream of, hm?" vi asks, letting the world hum through her throat, rumbling over your skin like thunder across a distant horizon.

you twist your fingers into her hair, gently tracing the tattoo on her cheek before smiling down at her with a smile that looks like the shadow of the rest of her living days --

"i... i dreamt of you."

car mechanic!vi who comes downstairs to find vander in the kitchen, powder nowhere to be seen. but vander takes one look at her and grins, chuckling, rolling his eyes.

"alright then -- what's her name?"

she hesitates for a second before telling him.

"pretty name," vander muses, even as he tugs open the fridge to pull out a few eggs and a half-empty carton of milk. he pushes the milk towards vi with a pointed look.

"vander -- i -- i think she might be the one."

to which vander only laughs, cracking an egg with one hand into the oiled up pan. almost immediately, the egg whites begin to sizzle.

"this the girl with the cherry corvette?" he asks. wordlessly, vi nods. vander chuckles.

"good for you kiddo -- i always told you, haven't i?"

"that i'll know when it's the one? yeah... i -- i think i get it now." vi runs a hand through her bedridden hair, staring at the carton of milk and the ludicrously proportioned cartoon cow, advertising full fat contents within.

"well, as long as you're sure," vander says, cracking another egg, and another.

vi lets out a weak laugh, nodding as she opens the fridge to pull out some orange juice and a few boxes of blueberries.

"yeah. i'm sure."

vander nods, brows furrowing slightly as he flips the eggs with an expert twitch of the wrist.

"good. and -- how's she like her eggs done in the morning?" he asks, reaching over for a plate. vi stares at the over-easy eggs sliding from the old nonstick.

she lets out a tired little laugh, "probably like... poached, or something."

vander whistles, "got yourself a little diva, huh? well -- can't blame ya -- your uncle silco --"

"okay, thanks dad --" vi cuts him off with a deep groan, nudging him out of the way to place a small pot in the sink to fill with water.

vander chuckles, "you gonna introduce me when she comes down later?"

vi takes her time placing the pot on the stove and starting the heat.

"sure, yeah. i'll introduce her."

vander reaches over to ruffle vi's hair, cackling when she tries to duck out from beneath his massive hands.

"'m happy for you, violet."

vi stills, a helpless smile spreading across her lips like sun-warmed butter.

"yeah... me too." she says, "me too."

[fir3flytv]

JASON TODD didn't want a dog. He lived in an apartment with you, with one bedroom, a tiny kitchen and a living room that looked like the furniture decorated in it would fall apart at any moment.

But one day, he comes home to you, sleeping in your bed with a little bull mastiff puppy on his side of the bed. He stares at the dog for a few moments, before going to take off his Red Hood outfit, as though that would make the situation disappear. When he comes back, the dog was still there. Of course.

Gently, Jason shakes you awake, giving you a pointed look. "Got anything you want to share with me, babe?" He asks, eyes trailing down to the dog, still asleep on the bed. A sheepish smile crosses your face. "I can explain?" You say, though it comes out more like a question. "I was volunteering at the animal shelter and found him. He didn't like being with the other dogs in cage but they didn't have enough space to isolate him." "So you thought the best plan was to bring home a dog that can grow to be 150 pounds?" I scoffs lightly. "No, no! I'm fostering him. Just for a little bit," You say quickly. "I thought since he's still a puppy he would be adopted quickly, right? So we won't have to make space for when he gets that big." Jason lets out a soft sigh and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before speaking again. "You're too good," He murmurs softly. You smile up at him and return the kiss onto his cheek. After a few moments, Jason clears his throat and looks down at the puppy, still sprawled out onto his side of the bed. "So where am I going to sleep?" ... JASON TODD sucks at being a foster. He's terrible, horrible, even. If you were to look up 'How to not foster a dog', they would just show his face. It wasn't that he neglected the dog. He could never. He took him out on runs, fed him good food, washed him, played with him. Everything a dog owner could do. No, the reason Jason was so bad was because his first ever foster dog turned out to be a foster failure. Every time someone came by interested in adopting the puppy, Jason would be in your ear, whispering to you that it didn't seem like they knew what they were doing, or that the puppy wouldn't like living with them. Every. Single. Time.

It wasn't till the three month mark of fostering the pup, having moved to a more spacious apartment, that Jason popped the question.

"You know," He starts suddenly while the two of you were on the couch, eating Chinese take out with the dog resting on the floor nearby. "No one here seems to be right for Buster." Buster, his name for the dog. He's used it so much he actually started responding to it. "There's someone, I'm sure," You counter, taking a bite of your food. "I know there is," Jason counters. Just as you open your mouth to tell him that makes no sense, he cuts you off. "Us. We're right for Buster." "Think," He says, reaching out to grip your hand. "For three months, we've had him, we've moved with him. He has his spot in the bed, we've worked him into our schedule. He's happy. Why ruin that?" "So you want to adopt him?" You ask, making sure you understood just exactly what he was saying. It felt too good to be true. "Yeah, I do," He says with a small smile. As soon as he finishes speaking you practically lung at him, tackling him into a hug while whispering small 'thank you's. The action makes Buster jump up and want to join in on whatever is going on, leaping onto the couch and sniffing at the two of you, his massive head bumping you both. In that moment, Jason knew he made the right choice. This felt right. It felt good. It felt like home. You, him, and your giant dog.

[fell-e]

manifesting him in the nmb4cm event

[pansexualkiba]

so apparently they're making a new sexier wuthering heights and unless it ends with Alternate Timeline Heathcliff trying to fight the Heathcliff from this movie I don't want it.

[revasserium]

. . . ✰ L O V E & D E E P S P A C E

d a y d r e a m s ( a l l )

#001: the first kiss

entwined shadows - sfw, fluff

r a f a y e l

promise (to be holy) - sfw, fluff

eventide - nsfw!, fluff

vocabulary list: stay - sfw; fluff

falling backwards - sfw; fluff

z a y n e

waiting for winter - sfw, fluff

afterglow - sfw, fluff

a note on public health - sfw, fluff

home - sfw, fluff

stolen kisses - sfw, fluff

x a v i e r

hunter and the hunted - nsfw!, fluff

stolen kisses - sfw, fluff

s y l u s

loving you was red - sfw; fluff