#13 inches? 13 inches. ridiculous

[preciousbabyrat]

wanna talk about how 13 inches really is excessive for an iPad but I can't because horny phannies (Daniel Howell and Phil Lester) keep changing the subject

[queen-scribbles]

I approve of this height difference :3

And Ody is v grateful she's actually found someone worse at the flirting thing than she is

[spockkinnie]

My big ass Tricorder everyone.

I’m making a rubber mold of rn so I can have a bunch of them. Once the mold is done I’ll have a wax version of this, then add the designs to the wax.

(both of these were taken at like midnight)

I’m in a metals casting class rn and I’m about to make a tricorder sculpture with saint engravings on the back. It’s probs just gonna be Uhura and Spock. It’s just a wip rn but when I finish trust I will post so much about it

+ obligatory Garak sketch

[hiraethwrote]

just come home pt. 3 - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: attending the same event, emotions are running high between you and satoru ✧ cw: angst, fluff, arguing, jealousy, some cursing, creative liberties in the sense of like world and story yk, random character i ended up naming (we dont like him) ✧ word count: 4.9k

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

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— 13 months ago —

You didn’t dare peer your eyes off the phone, just waiting to hear your ringtone chime threw the kitchen. The tapping of your foot against the floor filled the room until Satoru eventually placed a comforting hand on your knee, containing some of the bouncing.

“There’s no reason to worry! You’re going to get it.” The sweet tone of his voice was much appreciated, but you did not let yourself fully believe him.

A long and shaky breath left you in hopes of it calming you down, but to no success. There wasn’t any particular reason for you to be this nervous; the interview went well, you were more than qualified and there wasn’t necessarily a lot of competition for the position. However, you really wanted it, and would rather go in with low expectations and be positively surprised.

The nerves were winning no matter how hard you tried to smother them, anxiously taking the tip of your thumb between your teeth. Satoru, without hesitation, pulled your hand away, intertwining his fingers with yours to hinder your bad habit.

“Hey,” he grabbed your attention, turning to look at him. His finger traveled tenderly across your cheek before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, so much compassion in his look. “It’s alright.” You managed to give him a weak smile, leaning into his touch.

Both of you jumped at the sound of your phone ringing, interrupting the stressful silence. Satoru jumped up, shaking your shoulders vigorously as he urged you to answer the phone. Picking up the phone, you shushed him resulting in him slapping his hands over his mouth in order to stop his excited rambling. Finally you gathered up the courage to answer the dreaded phone call.

“Hello,” you spoke softly, hiding your nervousness.

“Good day, is this Miss y/l/n?” a kind voice spoke on the other side of the line.

“This is she.” There was no way you’d be able to sit still waiting for whether you got the job or not. You rose from the chair and started pacing around the room.

Satoru was growing more and more impatient of the answer, his eyes following your every step. While he was as stressed as you, he stood there admiring you as well. Because every single muscle and joint in your body was tense with nerves, but your tone was utterly steady.

Still choking back his excitement, he was desperately trying to deduce what was being said on the phone because you gave him nothing to go on. Whatever was said on the other side, you just nodded along, answering in short statements— yes, no, I understand.

“Yes, thank you. Goodbye.” Finally you hung up, suspense filling the room. Looking at your boyfriend, who put his hands out in front of him, was waiting for the answer.

“So?”

“I got the job!”

“You got the job,” he repeated before you ran at him and launched into his arms, embracing him tightly with both arms and legs. His strong arms wrapped around your back just as tight, securing you in the hug. “I knew you’d get it! Never doubted a second,” he said in between the many kisses he placed on your cheek. He began to spin around, a series of giggles and squeals escaping you.

“‘Toru, I’m getting dizzy,” you managed to get out. Eventually he stopped, carefully putting you down before cupping your face lovingly and placing a deep kiss on your lips.

“My beautiful, brilliant, wonderful girlfriend,” he gushed. There was a sparkle in his eyes as he studied every inch of your face, a sparkle he only had looking at you. “This ought to have a celebration.”

“That’s not necessary. It’s just a job.”

“Just a-“ he cut himself off with a dramatic huff. “Listen to her. It’s just a job. Ridiculous. You deserve a celebration to match this milestone.” Only Satoru was able to make something as mundane as getting a job seem like the most important event. “Your word is my command. Whatever you want, and I’ll fix it.”

“Order takeout?” You suggested sweetly before he planted a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I give you the opportunity to have anything you want, and you just want to order food?”

“I don’t have a need to celebrate all that much. Just want to spend the evening with you,” you spoke softly before embracing him and resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes and taking in his warmth.

You knew once you told your friends about the job, they’d throw together a party in your honour and you would gladly accept. But right now, what you wanted was just to stay in with Satoru, wearing your pyjamas, eat some food that wasn’t good for you and watch a movie.

“Only thing that could make this better is if you came to teach alongside me. I mean, imagine sharing lunch together.” His arms wrapped around you again, resting his head on top of yours.

“Me too, darling. But you know it’s not really up to me.”

“Yeah, because your school sucks. All that exclusive bullshit.” His chest vibrated with a soft chuckle, a smile growing on your face as a response.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

— present day —

The day you accepted the invitation to the conference, you were beyond excited. It would be a great opportunity to meet other teachers, share techniques and experiences. You hadn’t really been a teacher for long, so you felt it would do you good. But that seemed like a lifetime ago, two weeks before the breakup.

With both you and Satoru working within education, you knew he had gotten the same invitation. But you had no clue if he had accepted it or not, meaning you risked running into him there.

Seven weeks had passed since you’d bumped into him at the supermarket, and in that period, some sort of communication had been re-established. He sent a lot of texts throughout the day, most of them left on read. Regardless of that, he had been right that there were a lot of unsaid things between you that might need airing out. So even though you still hadn’t agreed to meet up with him, you sent him a short reply every once in a while to let him know you weren’t completely unreachable.

This was, of course, to your friends great frustration. They never sugarcoated how absolutely infuriated they were by the entire situation and did not think he deserved to hear a single word from you. But they didn’t seem to understand those small texts you sent him gave you a sense of comfort as he didn’t seem so far away from you anymore. In one way, you could say it numbed some of the pain.

Your thoughts were pulled away from Satoru when a soft buzz came from your purse.

Ren: I’m outside in five minutes :)

“Urgh.” The reaction to the text you received was entirely involuntary, but you couldn’t help it. Ren wasn’t even a bad guy, he was just a lot. He was a colleague of yours, who had been trying to get your attention ever since you started working at the school. Satoru had teased you about it endlessly, finding his work crush on you incredibly funny.

“I think I have to meet this Ren.” And once he had gotten that idea, there was no stopping him. Therefore you weren’t all that surprised when one day he showed up at your school during lunch, with his charm turned up to the max. He’d strutted right up to you, who at the time just so happened to be in a conversation with poor Ren. Satoru hadn’t hesitated to throw his arm across your shoulders and placing a kiss on the side of your head. “Had a few minutes, thought I’d come say hi.”

All the colour had instantly been drained from Ren’s face at the sight of Satoru. Ren was definitely aware of the existence of your boyfriend, though he had no idea what he looked like. So with his impressive 6’3” and striking looks, he could appear intimidating. Even more so, when he confidently reached out his hand to introduce himself to Ren.

It didn’t take long for your colleague to come up with a lame excuse to leave. “You’re mean,” you’d sighed in frustration once he was too far away to hear you.

“What?” He was playing dumb, not even trying to hide the fact that his lips were curving into a smile. “I had to check out my competition.”

“And?” You asked curiously, hating that you wanted to know his verdict.

“Ain’t even worried.” Playfully you pushed him away from you, rolling your eyes at how extremely cocky he was. He hummed satisfied, with his hands in his pockets, giving you one last kiss before he had to leave again.

Somehow, Ren had become aware of your breakup. So about a week ago, he’d called you up and asked if you’d like to attend the conference together. Of course it was just your luck that you were hanging out with your friends when he had called, the same friends that hated Satoru at the moment. They practically gave you no choice but to accept.

Attending with your colleague was another reason you hoped Satoru had declined the invitation. He had never been the jealous type, but he had never had a reason to be either. You were nervous if he was to be there, he’d be unable to stop himself from throwing some passive aggressive comment at Ren and he’d be too scared to defend himself.

The knock on your door startled you back into reality, bracing yourself to face him. Opening the door, his face lit up at the sight of you, a boyish charm to his expression.

“Hi,” he said with a small nod. Before you were able to respond, he stretched out his hand where he held one single rose.

“Oh— thank you.” A ripple of guilt hit you hard of how you couldn’t even fake a believable sincerity. “That’s so kind of you.”

You had held onto a naive hope that Ren had invited you purely on friendly terms, but the rose in your hand was a sign that wasn’t the case. He thought of this as a date, and another bang of guilt hit you. This one concerning Satoru.

Nearly three months since you’d left him, but it still felt like such a betrayal. For two years you’d been his, and he yours. That was how it was supposed to be, and how you always thought it would end. Not to mention that it was just too soon. You did not want to go on a date, freshly out of a committed relationship you thought was going to be the one.

But you put on a brave face and tried to give Ren a genuine smile. “Shall we go then?”

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Satoru was seething.

Never had he been happier to wear his sunglasses so no one could see the pure anger that was radiating in his eyes. Even though he wanted to look away in order to not torture himself, there was no way of that happening. He would not let your colleague make any kind of move on you, especially if he could help it.

It wasn’t until the event had been moved to the after party in the hotel ballroom he had spotted you. Resting his gaze upon you, he felt as the rest of the room disappeared, only one single spotlight illuminating you. His world calmed down at the sight of you, as if every confusing thing in his life was resolved.

Losing your presence in his life had turned it upside down in all the wrong ways, realising how much he had truly depended on you. Not because you actively did all that much for him, but by simply just existing as a consistent in his life he felt safe. You never judged him, never complained, always tried to see things from his perspective and overall being the rock he needed.

He felt truly at peace for the first time in a long time as he sized you up, head to toe, wearing the dress he had bought you for your first anniversary dinner. As always, he found you absolutely breathtaking, wondering how he ever managed to score you in the first place.

When a small hand landed on your bare shoulder, his peaceful fantasy shattered instantly. He nearly spat out his drink when he saw who the hand belonged to, Ren ogling you with pure adoration. Eventually he knew he’d have no choice but intervene, even though causing a scene would do him no favours whatsoever.

Satoru could clearly tell you were uncomfortable, with your arms loosely wrapped around yourself and picking the skin around your fingernails. Usually, when he noticed you doing one of your bad habits, he instinctively intervened. Every bone in his body wanted to walk over and grab your hand in order for you to stop, reassuring you that everything was alright.

His agitation only grew seeing Ren happily chat you up, when he wasn’t allowed to. And you, being as kind as you were, tried your very best to pay attention to whatever story he was telling, chuckling and smiling. But Satoru knew you’d rather be anywhere else than here.

Suddenly the tone of your conversation changed, as he observed Ren now served a worried expression. The next second he was taking off his blazer, carefully placing it over your shoulders even though you politely tried to object.

That’s it. How was he supposed to stand and watch some other guy do the things he was supposed to do? Swiftly, Satoru made his way through the crowd, doing his best not to bump into anyone in his small frenzy.

While Ren instantly froze when he realised who had approached, you wore a confused expression. “Satoru?” It slipped out of you weakly, your eyebrows narrowed at his sudden appearance.

“Fancy seeing you guys here!” He sounded so chipper, presenting himself with a gloating smile. Ren shot you a nervous glance, desperately needing you to give him any sort of hint on how to deal with the abrupt company of your ex-boyfriend. You weren’t to much help, only scowling at Satoru, in utter disbelief at the audacity he had to just storm right up to you.

Clearing his throat, he captured Satoru’s attention again. He could see how Ren was finding every ounce of courage to shake off his insecurities. “Good to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“Y/n told me you were a teacher.” A faux smile appeared on Satoru’s face, a displeased reaction to how Ren had a newfound confidence all of a sudden. Even though he was very much still nervous, he wasn’t as fragile as the first time Satoru had met him. Seeing Ren try and put on a brave face, most likely to impress you, only aggravated him more.

“I sure am.” He turned his head back to you, not surprised to see that your uncomfortable stance had shifted into fury. Fire in your eyes as they were drilling into him with your arms crossed over your chest.

Satoru was already mentally kicking himself for his selfish stunt when it sunk in exactly how irritated you were. He could see you were resisting the temptation to actually wrap your hands around his throat in animosity, yet he himself softened at the sight of you. He couldn’t help it, you had that affect on him naturally.

“What are you doing?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“Thought it would be rude not to come over and say hi.” What you’d feared would happen was actually about to take place in front of you. Of course some part of you had secretly wanted to have an excuse to talk to Satoru, but this wasn’t the way you wanted it to go down. You shouldn’t be too surprised however, as it wasn’t unusual for his dumb pride to get in the way.

“Oh, you did, didn’t you? Funny,” you sneered in response, hating how he was making you talk like this to him. Licking his lips, Satoru forced his gaze back to Ren who was probably contemplating everything.

“So, did you two come here together or?”

“Satoru, don’t!” You said sternly, but he kept staring at Ren.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and dared put his hand on your upper back. In the corner of his eyes, Satoru saw your desire to flinch away from his touch, but stopped yourself. “We did actually.”

“Lovely. Bet you brought her flowers as well?”

“Satoru,” you tried to intervene again, feeling extremely sorry for Ren, stuttering madly, trying so hard not to let himself be humiliated.

“Y-yeah, I-“

“Roses, right?” Ren nodded weakly. “Big mistake, she doesn’t like those.”

“Hey!” You’d had enough, finally stepping in assertively and grabbing Satoru’s wrist which instantly shut him up. Snapping his head back at you, he glared at you in awe, all signs of his jealousy gone. “Get it together!”

Over his sunglasses he made eye contact with you, letting his now mild glare flitter between your eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, just like it used to before.

“I’m so sorry,” you said to Ren when you finally managed to avert your gaze from Satoru. “Let me just-“ you couldn’t find the right words to excuse yourself, so you just whispered another apology before forcefully pulling Satoru after you.

Whispering small profanities under your breath, your grip on Satoru turned your knuckles white. Feeling like everyone’s eyes were on you, rushing through the crowd with the giant of a man at your heels. A sigh of relief left you once you’d gotten you both into a deserted hallway, instantly letting go of his wrist.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His lips twitched, like a he was holding back a frustrated smile. “Come on. I couldn’t just stand there and watch his sorry attempt at hitting on you.” His shoulders raised as if he was in the right, that his actions were within reason.

“Don’t give me that! You embarrassed the shit out of him. You embarrassed me!”

This conversation was unlike any you’d had before, considering you hadn’t been a couple that got very loud or sharp with each other on the rare occasions you even got into an argument. Usually, your arguments rooted in unimportant matters that resulted in the silent treatment from both sides until one of you realised exactly how silly you were acting. Whoever caved first would come crawling into the arms of the other before apologising profusely.

“But him, y/n? Really? The guy who’s been drooling all over you, even when we were still together.”

On one hand, Satoru’s frustration with Ren wasn’t unjustified. You’d also found Ren’s advances on you inappropriate, knowing you were taken. Nonetheless, neither of you had ever taken it seriously, well aware that he never stood a chance. Yet, Satoru’s behaviour was out of line.

With disgust written all over his face, he opened his mouth and continued his rant. “And then he makes tonight a date. The body isn’t even cold yet.”

“Satoru!” You watched him flinch at your outburst because of his tasteless comment.

It went without saying that Satoru was an incredibly kind soul, with a strong sense of what was right or wrong. Nevertheless, he could have a tendency to lash out with cruel jabs that always took you by surprise. You’d never been on the receiving end of his shots, but you would shut that down real quick.

“What if I was here with a date? Would you have liked it seeing me with another girl?”

“Of course not!” You answered, barely letting him finish before you fired back at him. “I cannot imagine anything worse, but I’d never approach you like you just did, and you know that!”

“You didn’t see the way he looked at you, y/n! It irked me. I mean, I’m-“ he cut himself off, a sharp breath leaving his nose. He didn’t know where to put all his agitated nerves, so he tried to contain it by shoving his hands in his pockets, his shoulders almost reaching his ears with tension.

“Go on.”

“I’m the only one who’s supposed to look at you like that.”

It didn’t take more to entirely change the atmosphere of the conversation, dropping your defences once his voice had calmed down.

“Yeah, I know,” you quietly agreed, matching his tone.

Silence washed over you, and you paid close attention to him as he removed his sunglasses to rub his eyes. He released a low, shaky exhale. Just when he was about to place them back in his nose, your body moved on its own accord, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

He looked exactly like you’d remembered, how you had permanently engraved him into your mind. Once he had dropped his jealous guard, you were reminded of how much you had yearned for the opportunity to look at him like this again. Every cell of your body was screaming for you to embrace him, like they would collapse if you did not receive his touch soon.

But once he blinked, the spell broke and you jerked your hand away, reminded of how it only hurt you because he wasn’t yours anymore.

“I never wanted to go with him,” you hesitated, taking a few steps back until you felt you back hit the wall behind you. “My friends kinda forced me to accept.”

A somber chuckle was heard from him, trying to seem steadfast, also leaning against the wall behind him.

“I guess they don’t like me very much.”

“Not exactly.” Your face was painted with the same sadness as Satoru’s. He had his head down, staring at his feet. You could see how the gears were turning in his head to figure out the best way to approach this.

“I miss you,” his said, trying to hide the fact that his voice cracked just a little. When he looked up again, you saw the sparkle in his eyes that you’d noticed so many times before. “Every day.”

“I miss you too,” you were only able to express in a light mumble, feeling the emotions about to take over you already.

“You wanna know one of the things I regret the most?” You simply nodded. “Not being able to say anything to you. That night I mean.”

You pressed your lips together to try and slow down the tears that were fighting their way to the surface. “It’s okay, Satoru.”

“No, it’s not okay,” he heaved as he was the first to break this time. “You spilled your guts about how much I was hurting you and I just stood there! Speechless!” He wept, taking you by surprise at how quickly he had started crying.

“It was a lot to take in. I put a lot of information on you at one time.” You tried your best to remain serene, knowing neither of you would be able to get anything helpful out of the conversation if you were both just teary wet messes.

“Stop doing that! Stop making excuses for me.” He frantically began to wipe his tears with the back of his hand, trying to steady his voice so he could continue. “As you said, I always have something to say. And the one time— the one time you needed me to talk, I couldn’t do it. I did not treat you according to how I feel about you and I truly am so insanely sorry, y/n!”

He’d spent every waking moment, and probably quite a few sleeping ones, pondering about everything that had went down and how it had ended here. Even though you were completely taken aback by how broken he looked, sobbing like an innocent child, a small part of you felt a sense of relief. You got some confirmation on the questions you’d been asking yourself.

Ever single day you’d wondered if he was as beaten up about it all as you, or if he had found it in himself to move on. If maybe he was even relieved to not have to deal with the stresses of a relationship anymore. But he was coming apart at the seams, his eyes red from the crying, desperately trying to gather himself again.

He took a deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth before he spoke again. “And I want you to know I understand why you did what you did. I never deserved you I-“

“No, don’t say that,” you shot in, drawing his eyes to you again. “Ever!” You saw him swallow some of the sobs that were building up. Pushing yourself off the wall, you slowly walked up him, your body growing hotter the closer you got to him.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he said remorsefully, quiet tears falling down his cheeks. You didn’t have it in you anymore to just stand there and watch him cry without doing anything about it. Delicately, you dried them off his cheeks. “I wish I could have done things differently.”

“There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about you, Satoru.” You’re voice was barely a whisper, drenched in compassion.

He wanted a second chance, more than anything. But he was so afraid to ask, even though the question was restlessly waiting at the tip of his tongue. He knew he didn’t deserve it, and suggesting it would be nothing other than egotistical.

What he didn’t know was how fiercely you wanted him to ask, to fight for you. If there was one thing you truly wanted, it was to have him back in your life. To have him wake you of with featherlight strokes on you back again. The evenings where he did come home, you’d both stand in the kitchen together trying to prep a proper meal only for him to make a mess of everything. Walking down the streets, his protective arm draped over you shoulder as he so proudly showed you off. Every small and big aspect of the relationship you wanted back.

With your eyes, you tried to beg him to cross that line and ask you to be his again. The time you’d spent apart had been nothing but pain for the both of you, but it had definitely put things in perspective.

Please ask me.

He was staring deep into your eyes, and you knew if there was one person in the entire universe who would be able to know what you were thinking, it was him.

“Is there any chance of us being together again?” The small question made you fill your lungs with a deep breath of relief.

“Yes.”

Without thinking, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours like it was second nature to him. You couldn’t help but form a harmonious smile.

Finally the whirlwind that had run rampant in his mind for the past few months, settled. A mixture of sob and chuckle slipped out of Satoru, as he didn’t quite know where to put himself. Though this was what he had hoped for, he hadn’t really expected it.

“But,” you broke the comfortable silence, pulling away even though you didn’t want to. “It cannot be how it was.”

“I know!” He hurried to say the second the sentence had left you. “I’ll quit if I have to. And three’s a crowd, Suguru and Shoko are better as duo anyways.” You instantly began to giggle at his erratic statements and it was music to his ears.

“Satoru, I’m not asking you to stop living your life.” His heart fluttered at the sound of your voice speaking his name with so much love.

“No, I know. But I’d be willing to do it, just so you know.” A tiny smile had made its way onto his face as well, though his eyes still showed so many signs of crying. Carefully, waiting for you to stop him, he cupped your face. “I just have one request.”

“Alright?”

“Can you please take off that damn jacket?” It wasn’t until he mentioned it you remembered you were still wearing Ren’s jacket. He didn’t have to hear you answer, the chuckle playing on your lips was all he needed to brush it off your shoulders. “I think I might have to burn it.”

“Be nice.” His hand quickly went back to your face and he daringly began to lean closer. At last, his lips crashed into yours, after what had felt like an eternity.

Satoru was so grateful for the second chance he had been giving, and he had no plans of screwing it up now. All that time apart, he had only become absolutely certain a life without you in it wasn't one he wanted. He would do everything in his power to keep it that way, whatever the cost.

And the kiss told you everything you needed to know. It felt like a promise, that from now on everything would be okay. You weren't even scared he woul ever let you down again. Wordlessly, you managed to believe him that this was it now. And the hardest months of your life, was now going to be worth it.

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tags: @alisstaa, @starlightanyaaa, @nyahctrl, @creolequeen11210, @iheartlinds, @new-weather47, @rjt017

a/n finally part three, and it feels pretty final now dont you think? when i eventually got an idea for part three, i wrote for like three days straight. thanks everyone for all the amazing support, and i hope this is a sufficient end to it all <3 reblogs, replies and likes are highly appreciated Also, might take a small break from writing this week to gather some motivation (unless i get some requests or something) and try and set up this blog more. Do a little 'about me' and rules etc.

Plagiarism not authorized

[intimidating-fettuccine]

updated version of the creepy boys’ dick sizes? since it’s an old post and i’m pretty sure it doesn’t have all of them.

I'm gonna change how I did it. Last time I did girth in a circle when I should have done across. Also, I'm deleting the original after posting this to avoid confusion.

To be clear length is from body to tip, width is across the shaft at the thickest part. This is in inches. I used a measuring tape.

I also bumped up sizes overall as my opinions have changed, hope your body can take it for some of 'em. Offender has finally been dethroned as having the biggest dick.

Also... Remember a lot of these boys are inhuman, so yes, I gave some of them ridiculous dicks, they're monsters, so their cocks don't work by human biology. Do not take any of this as an accurate representation of dicks, this is for fanfiction.

Biggest

Candy (13 Length, 4 Width)

Offender (12.5 Length, 3.8 Width)

Zalgo (12 Length, 4 Width)

Eyeless Jack (12 Length, 3 Width)

Laughing Jack (11.6 Length, 3.7 Width)

Slender (11 Length, 3.7 Width)

Splendor ( 10 Length, 3.8 Width)

Trender (10 Length, 3 Width)

Jason (9 Length, 2.5 Width)

Hobo (9 Length, 2 Width)

Jeff (8.5 Length, 2.8 Width )

Liu (8 Length, 2.0 Width)

Helen ( 7.5 Length, 2 Width)

Smiley (7 Length, 2.8 Width )

Puppeteer (7 Length, 2.5 Width)

Tim (7 Length, 2 Width)

Brian (6.5 Length, 2.5 Width )

Toby (6 Length, 2.5 Width )

BEN (6 Length, 2 Width)

Smallest

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p13

chapter 13: guard dog behaviour

series masterlist

The club pulsed with music, the air thick with laughter and the sweet scent of expensive cologne. A week after the accident, Y/N was finally out, her body healed and her spirit even more vibrant. Dressed in a shimmering dress that hugged her curves, she moved with effortless grace on the dancefloor, a radiant beacon amidst the flashing lights.

Lewis, nursing a drink at the bar, couldn't take his eyes off her. Every laugh, every turn of her head, sent a jolt through him. It was like seeing her in a whole new light, a light that made his heart race and his palms sweat.

Suddenly, a familiar figure materialized beside her. It was Lando, his goofy grin plastered on his face as he attempted a somewhat questionable dance move. Y/N, never one to miss a beat, mirrored his moves with playful exaggeration. They leaned in close, their faces inches apart, lost in their own little world of laughter and friendly banter.

A cold fury ignited within Lewis. He slammed his drink down on the counter, the ice clinking ominously. He couldn't stand the sight of Lando, all smiles and playful touches, invading Y/N's personal space.

With a determined stride, Lewis navigated through the crowd, his jaw clenched tight. He reached Y/N and tapped her shoulder, effectively breaking the spell between her and Lando.

"Hey, Y/N," Lewis said, trying to mask his jealousy with forced cheer. "Ready for a break?"

Y/N turned, her smile faltering slightly at the tension in his voice. "Hey, Lewis! Sure, what's up?"

Lewis gestured towards a quieter corner of the club. "Let's just… talk. Seems like Lando's gotten a little handsy with you."

Y/N's brows furrowed in confusion. "Handsy? Lewis, Lando's just being his usual goofy self. Besides," she added with a playful wink, "wouldn't that be insane? Dating the Lando Norris?"

Lewis's gaze turned steely. "Your dream? Dating a guy who can barely hold his liquor, let alone… well, you know."

Y/N's smile vanished, replaced by a hint of annoyance. "Lewis, come on. Lando's my best friend, okay? Besides, I'm not looking to date anyone right now."

Her words hung in the air, a challenge and a revelation all at once. Lewis felt a pang of something akin to disappointment, quickly masked by a surge of possessiveness. He couldn't explain this newfound urge to protect her, to shield her from the likes of Lando or… anyone else for that matter.

"Right," he muttered, forcing a smile. "Just looking out for you, that's all."

The DJ transitioned into a slow song, casting a more intimate atmosphere over the club. Y/N glanced back at the dance floor, her eyes searching for Lando.

Lewis caught her gaze and his heart ached. Maybe, just maybe, he needed to be more than just "looking out for her." Maybe it was time to take a chance, to confess the emotions that swirled within him, a tangled mess of fear, possessiveness, and a yearning he couldn't quite define.

"This is ridiculous, Charles," Lewis fumed, slamming his empty beer bottle onto the table with enough force to make the other patrons jump. "Lando practically had his face in her hair! And she was just… laughing. Like it was nothing!"

Charles, ever the smooth operator on the dance floor and off, chuckled, wiping a stray drop of sweat from his brow. "Easy there, champ. Lando and Y/N are practically siblings. You know that, right?"

Lewis scoffed. "Siblings don't lean in that close, Charles. It's not right."

"Right?" Max Verstappen, who had joined their conversation unnoticed, snorted. "Since when did Lewis Hamilton become the arbiter of all things right and wrong in club etiquette?"

"It's not about etiquette, Max," Lewis growled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It's just… they're too young for anything serious, wouldn't you agree?"

Max raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Oh, I don't know, Lewis. Seems to me you're awfully invested in Y/N's… dance partners."

Charles nudged Lewis with his elbow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe you're a little… jealous, my friend?"

Lewis bristled. "Jealous? Absolutely not! I'm simply trying to make sure Y/N doesn't get tangled up with the wrong crowd. Lando's a good kid, but…" he trailed off, unable to articulate the jumble of emotions warring within him.

"But what, Lewis?" Max goaded, enjoying the spectacle of the usually stoic champion flustered. "But you wouldn't mind keeping an eye on her yourself, would you? Like a… loyal guard dog?"

Lewis glared at Max, the playful banter failing to mask the truth in his words. Maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of jealousy lurking beneath his concern for Y/N. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop hiding from his own feelings.

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[ultram0th]

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 16: Himbo

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16

Derek Hale sat in the corner of the bar, brooding over life in general. The sourwolf had a deep frown set onto his face, scowling at nothing specifically— his foul mood creating a dark aura about him.

He finished his whiskey on the rocks and was about to ask for another one, when the bartender (some peppy guy with dyed blue hair) set down a large glass of beer in front of him. The golden drink must’ve been extra-carbonated because tons of tiny bubbles floated around like crazy in it.

Derek cocked his eyebrow up at the bartender. “I didn’t—”

“It’s on the house,” the bartender interrupted him. “It’s a new brand called ‘Bubbly Beer’.”

“‘Bubbly Beer’?” Derek repeated incredulously, almost scoffing at the stupid sounding name. The tough alpha wouldn’t be caught dead drinking such a ridiculous drink. 

Still, free was free.

Shrugging his shoulders, Derek brought the glass to his lips and took a tentative sip of the bubble-filled beer. It was sickeningly sweet and the carbonation made the drink more akin to soda than actual beer.

Derek grimaced at the drink, nearly gagging. He hated sweets.

However, the alcohol content must’ve been high, because after that singular sip of beer, Derek could already feel a slight buzz. His brain felt a little foggy and it actually seemed to dull his angst.

“Meh,” he hummed. “Does the trick, I guess.”

Derek took another sip.

The fog settled in deeper, and a dazed grin formed on Derek’s face. He leaned back further into his chair, unaware of the knowing smirk from the bartender. He struggled to think back to what was bothering him in the first place.

He happily brought the glass back up to his lips, but this time he took a couple gulps of the beer.

Derek’s smile grew a little larger, but it almost subsided when he started to feel a little warm. Like a sudden total wave of heat crashing upon him, Derek suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable. His white button down shirt was suddenly a bit too thick for his liking, and having it buttoned up all the way made him feel awkward, almost like he was wearing a large tent. 

In an attempt to gain some sort of ease, Derek reached up and undid the top four buttons of his shirt.

“That’s soooooo much better,” he sighed, his goofy grin coming back full force once he wasn’t completely covered. His toned pecs were slightly exposed to the cool air of the bar.

Derek took a few more gulps of the beer.

The legs of the chair groaned loudly as Derek squirmed around. His chest felt heavier and his arms kept colliding with his sides in a way that they hadn’t before… right?

Derek’s heart raced in his beefy chest for a moment, but he quickly shrugged his anxiety away as he glanced down at his meaty muscletits. His massive pecs were barely covered by the button down shirt that they strained against, his nubby nipples poking teasingly against the fabric. His large biceps bulged out of his straining sleeves, constantly bumping against pecs and lats, hindering each one of Derek’s movements. And lastly, the werewolf rocked back and forth on his humongous bubblebutt that strained his jeans to bursting, the big ass making it look like Derek was sitting on a bunch of cushions.

Derek caught a nerdy guy sneak a peek at him from across the bar, and he couldn’t resist lifting one of his big arms to flex a powerful bicep.

The nerd’s jaw dropped, yet he quickly recomposed himself and stood up, slowly heading over towards Derek.

Derek finished off the last of the bubbly beer, setting the empty glass onto the bar.

“Um, h-hey,” the small nerdy guy smiled at Derek. “What brings you here all alone?”

Derek smiled back full force at the other guy, his cock rocketing to life. The ten inch monster snaked down his pant leg noticeably, looking like he was stuffing a summer sausage down his pants.

“Oh y’know,” Derek chirped back, “I’m just, like, totally out here looking for cute guys!” He giggled at the end of his statement, biting down on his lower lip as he ran his eyes up and down hungrily over the nerd’s body.

The nerd smiled back nervously, nearly drooling over Derek’s bulbous muscletits. “Well,” he said, “I’m about to ditch this place, if you wanna come with?”

“Sure!” Derek quickly said, practically hopping out of his chair. He snatched a tight hold of the smaller guy’s hand and began to walk towards the exit.

Derek paused for a brief second, feeling as if something was wrong. His gait was thrown off by the constant jiggling of his bubblebutt behind him, and he had to arch his back slightly to account for his huge pecs. Plus, his head felt so slow.

And he was so painfully horny! 

Despite himself, all he seemed to be able to focus on was cock and getting his big butt stuffed full with the nerd’s. His lust took over and that foggy sensation clouded over his brain again, effectively silencing that alarm bell. 

“Like, this is totally gonna be the best night ever!” Derek cheered as he wiggled his hips, causing his big butt to bounce wildly, loving the lustful look in the nerd’s eyes.

[sneakyfordethklok]

Murderface Headcanons

Appearance, backstory, and other related hcs for my favorite stinky scrimblo.

He's 5'11", surprisingly tall. He's about a quarter of an inch short of 6 feet. Though, honestly he would look taller if he wasn't around Skwisgaar and Nathan all the time.

He's quite heavy, over 200 lbs. However, despite his physique, there's an surprising strength to him, especially in his arms. He worked outside for most of his life before joining Dethklok, and he retains some of that muscle to this day. However, he lacks the stamina and determination to ever really defend himself, and can't fight worth a damn.

He's around 28 years old.

He deals with eczema, specifically atopic dermatitis. He is unfortunately very bad about genuinely taking care of it, even though he has creams for it. He's just very stubborn.

How I draw his hair is more closely inspired by Geezer Butler, the bassist of Black Sabbath, whom Murderface is based off of. Dense dark brown curls, but Murderface as usual takes poor care of himself. His hair is dry, his scalp oily and rife with dandruff, and he rarely brushes it. As a result, its quite matted and frizzy, with lots of dead ends and uncontrolled curls.

Speaking of taking poor care of himself... He's a bit stinky.

Seriously. He doesn't shower enough. And rarely wears cologne or deodorant. Though, rather than necessarily being a gross slob, it comes from him never being taught to look after himself as a child. He was quite neglected, and so he never even was taught how to properly wash his hair or himself.

He grew up in the deep south, but his parents were living in Jersey before their demise. His grandparents' house is a simple one-story property, with white siding and a green roof. The windows were always covered with thick blinds, and the porch had a ramp up the three steps for Stella and Thunderbolt. An ancient porch swing that didn't exactly look safe anymore sat on their porch for as long as he could remember.

Stella and Thunderbolt Murderface were terrible hoarders. Really, the whole house was a maze of trash and rot. The second you stepped inside, you could smell the piss and shit from Stella's yappy little dogs that William always despised. How much of a fire hazard and generally unsafe environment it was influenced his interest in fire safety as an adult.

His grandparents abused and neglected him frequently. Murderface was never given affection, positive reinforcement, encouragement of any kind really, and not an ounce of acceptance or interest in who he was. It was always expected that he do whatever they say without question.. else his grandfather would get The Belt.

Murderface lived in the basement of the home, which was surprisingly one of the least cluttered parts of the house. He had his own bathroom and living area down there, on top of his room, and he spent most of his youth in that cellar. He picked up his first guitar, acoustic, at age 13, and bought a bass at 15. He's been playing ever since.

His internalized homophobia was heavily fueled by his abusive upbringing, and generally unaccepting environment. Murderface knew there was something different about him, but he always overcompensated for his bisexuality by fixating on perving on women. His childhood room's walls and ceilings were plastered with cut outs from nudie mags and the Victoria Secret and Sear's catalogues by the time he was 15.

He was a chronic bedwetter until he was almost 10 years old, and the ridicule and beatings as punishment didn't exactly help him improve. Part of his fixation on urinating in inappropriate places may be fueled by this trauma.. not to mention the cause of the bedwetting itself stemmed from the abuse he suffered at their hands to begin with.

He joined Dethklok a few months after he turned 18, and was almost 19 when Toki joined af 16. They've been close friends since Toki joined, being the two youngest members of the band. Despite their arguing, it's a beneficial relationship.

Personally, I like to think the band is in a big polycule, but Murderface and Toki (Warface) is one of my main pairings.

NSFW BELOW THIS

LAST WARNING

His main kinks are BDSM, degradation, humiliation, impact-play, pet-play, bondage, edging, masochism, and body worship.

He can get overly excited from the smallest things. Just a gentle touch on his arm, looking at him a certain way— it all gets him going. He's big on physical touch, though he would never admit it, and not only desires affection but gives it constantly. He caresses, touches, and kisses at any chance given. In general, he's very needy. Especially during sex, he wants all of your attention and affection and gets very upset when he's denied.

Mostly the submissive type, but he can get in a mood sometimes where he just needs to fuck. And he can be very aggressive about it. Because he's likely much bigger than most partners he'd have, he can overpower easily and be pretty rough if he's in the mood for it. Spanking, choking, hitting, biting, etc are all on the table with him.

When he's in a subby mood (which is usually), he's a total brat until he's pushed to the edge. Defiant, snarky, and mouthy. He'll disobey orders, talk back, and generally be a disobedient slut. That is, until he's edged, teased, and overstimulated enough. He'll go from complaining to begging pretty damn quickly.

When it comes to his downstairs... William is excessively hairy everywhere, but especially in his pubic area. There's a thick nest of hair above the base of his dick, so dark brown its almost black. He's about 6 or so inches in length, but he has a pretty.. well, girthy one for lack of a better word. It has to be big enough to play bass with, after all.

Yea. He has calluses. On his cock. Its Murderface idk what you expected.

He won't admit it, but he loves being on bottom with male partners.

[frenchfrywrites]

Kinktober day 13

Pet play

MINORS DNI

warnings: top dom amab gn reader, sub bottom trans man Idia, pet play

"Ugh I look so stupid," you hear Idia grumble from within the bathroom.

"I'm sure you don't," you call, shifting from where you're sat on the bed. You'd suggested trying something new in the bedroom, and Idia had been excited in the beginning, but now that you're actually here, he's a lot more hesitant. "Why don't you come out, and let me see you?"

"Noooo," he whines, "you're totally gonna laugh at me."

"I promise I won't," you try. To your delight, and minor surprise, the door opens. Idia stands before you, a pair of cat ears clipped to his head, the collar you bought him clasped around his neck, one of your tshirts draped across his body, and a blue cat tail peaking out from under it. His hair is tinged pink, matching his blushing face. He looks adorable.

"Aww," you coo, "you look cute!" Idia gives you an unconvinced look. "I'm serious!" you pat your lap, "c'mere, let me get a better look at you, kitty."

Despite himself, Idia joins you on the bed, awkwardly making himself comfortable on your legs.

You run your hands along his thighs, taking in the view before you. "I think you look super cute," you tell him, kissing his lips. Idia lets out a soft noise, clutching the front of your shirt to keep you close.

"My pretty, cute kitty," you hum as you pull away. Idia groans, covering his blushing face with his hands. "What's the matter? Too cringe?" you huff, squeezing his thighs.

"Yeah," he huffs, "it's ultra cringe," he pauses for a long moment, his flush deepening, "but it makes me really wet," he whispers.

You moan, sneaking a hand under his shirt to find that he's not wearing any underwear. Sliding your finger between his folds you find that his cunt is ridiculously slick. Idia lets out a shuddered breath, rocking his hips against your finger.

"Fuck, babe," you slide a finger into his eager hole, "kitten, I wanna fuck you so bad," Idia buries his face into your shoulder, his hands once again clinging to your shirt.

"Please," he whines.

"Please, what?" you tease, pressing another finger inside of him.

"Please, master," he squeaks. You pull your fingers from him, giving his clit a quick rub before taking your hand out from under his shirt.

"Make yourself comfortable on the bed, kitty," Idia does as he's told, scrambling off your lap, and onto the bed. He lays on his stomach, holding onto a pillow for support, while propping his ass up so you can see the tail plug stretching his asshole.

You make quick work of stripping yourself and grabbing the lube and a condom; then join him on the bed, settling yourself between his spread legs. You run a hand over his ass, squeezing one of his cheeks with an appreciative hum.

"So cute," Idia whines at your words, letting out a gasping moan when you spank him once. Your touch leaves him for just a moment so you can lube up your fingers before returning them to his cunt, pressing into him, stretching him open for your cock.

It doesn't take you long, with him so eager and needy for you, and soon you've got three fingers stretching and fucking him open. Idia flexes and clenches around you, whining. You feel hot and hard, pre leaking from your tip already, just looking at him.

"I'm ready," he groans, "please— master— I'm ready," so with a kiss to his back you slide your fingers out of his hole.

Quickly lubing up your cock and sliding on a condom, you line yourself up with him. Idia lets out a slow breath as you press into him, doing his best to relax.

Leaning over his body you kiss his shoulder, "you feel so good around me, kitty," you murmur softly. Idia squeezes around you, his fingers clutching the bed sheets,

"Thank you," he whispers, squeezing around you tight as you inch further and further into him.

It's not long before your hips press flush against Idia's, his fake tail rubbing against the front of your body. You tug it gently, and Idia moans loudly, knocking his head forward into the pillow, and arching his back.

"Fuck, baby," you groan, unable to stop your hips from jerking into his cunt.

"Please, master, please move," he whimpers, slightly muffled from his face being pressed into the pillow.

With his permission, you set a nice pace, marveling in the way that he keens and groans under you. You litter his upper back and shoulders with kisses as you fuck into him. Idia flutters around you, like his cunt wants to suck you back in every time you pull your hips back.

All is well until you hear a hushed "wait, wait." You pause immediately,

"Everything okay?" you ask, concern heavy in your tone. Idia nods,

"Yeah just," he brings a hand up to tug at the collar, "I want this off, it's making me freak out," he eventually confesses. You let out a relieved sigh, and help him take off the collar, kissing his neck once it's off.

"Better?" you ask, slowly thrusting your hips back into him. Idia snickers, which turns into a moan,

"Yeah, yes," he moans, "harder?"

"What do you say kitty?" you tease, readjusting your hips, and hitting him at a different angle.

"Please, please, please—oh," you cut off his begging by sharply thrusting your hips into him. Idia practically melts with a sob of pleasure as you fuck him hard and fast.

"Good boy, feel so fucking good," you groan, feeling your orgasm steadily approaching. Idia gurgles something similar to your name, his cunt spasaming around your cock.

"Gonna— wanna cum, master, please hah, can I?" you moan, reaching a hand around to play with his clit,

"Cum for me baby, fuck," and with a couple more thrusts of your hips you pull him over the edge. Idia moans your name, gushing around you as he cums. You follow soon after, filling the condom and fucking him through your orgasm.

Idia lets himself fall face first into the bed once he's finished. You have just enough strength to pull out and toss the condom, before you flop down on the bed next to him.

"Thanks for not laughing," Idia whispers, turning so he can cuddle into your body.

"Are you kidding? That was so hot, we're definitely doing that again," you kiss him gently, "if you want to, of course," you add.

Idia gives you a shy smile, "um, yeah, I want to," he agrees. You reach up to scratch behind his fake cat ears and he giggles, burying his face in your chest.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Home

Introducing part 2 of stuff that's been rejected from publishers! I hope y'all enjoy :)

As the train station rumbled with movement, I pulled my hoodie over my shoulders and adjusted my mask. Better safe than sorry, my mother always said, and I tended to agree.

Even with the mask, the air reeked of ammonia. It stung my nostrils and made my eyes water. Damn, but I wanted to be back. The gantry was empty, automated stations blinking neon in the hazy air. I hopped over it and continued through, shoes squeaking ever so slightly against the tiles. Rare that the train station was in a train station, I thought.

The clock overhead warned me that it was almost midnight. Whyever they used an analogue clock in this day and age, I did not know. I watched its fourth hand speed towards 13. Just as it struck, the train sped into the station, the lights glinting off it like a kingfisher diving in the mangrove.

Its doors, several tons of solid gold, creaked open to reveal a single man, in a tophat and intricately embroidered vest. “Miss Maya,” he said, by way of greeting. His accent was impossible to place, vaguely refined with a peculiar emphasis on the sybilants. 

I stepped into the train and returned his nod. We had met before, and courtesy never hurt. “Hama. Being daring today, aren't we? Sitting in an empty carriage?”

Hama shrugged. “Please, Miss Maya, do not fret over me like a hen. I am careful,” he told me. Unlike you went unsaid.

Maya and Hama were not our real names, of course. Those were far too valuable to hand out to another. But they were close enough for both our purposes.

I sank myself into the soft cushion. “Don't be ridiculous. You shouldn't have risked it, careful or not. You've heard what happened to the poor bastards who got caught by it, haven't you?”

Hama sighed. “Yes, but ‘twas almost midnight,” he explained, a hint of melancholy in his dry voice. “I was thinking of the rumours.” Beneath us, the train rumbled into motion, grinding gears and pumping steam.

“The rumours, huh?” We had all heard of them. They were lies, of course. The idea that the midnight train held any special powers was… Tempting. “You should've known how dangerous believing that crap is.”

Hama just shook his head. Briefly, I regretted chiding him. These train rides were long infuriating, and often dreary beyond belief. Having someone willing to talk with me was worth a lot sometimes.

“I'm sorry, Hama,” I said, when the pause between us stretched too long. “You don't need the reminder, do you?”

Quietly, he said, “‘Tis just- Do you not miss it?”

I froze. We did not speak of it. Nobody with half a grain of sense did. I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it.

“I have not seen it in five years, Miss,” he continued. “My wife will be old and wrinkled by the time I get home. My sons will have grown up. My daughter would be married, without me to give her my blessings. Do you know what that feels like, Miss Maya? To watch the world go by?”

I swallowed the knot in my chest, and said, “I know. Believe me, I do.”

Hama ran his fingers through his overgrown hair. “How long has it been for you? You are so young, I cannot imagine it has been more than three years.”

“Two,” I said, quietly enough that my voice was swallowed by the train.

Hama had sharp ears, however. “Two years? Your formative years, then. That is a travesty,” he informed me with avuncular concern.

A laugh bubbled out of my chest. It sounded just like the ammonia in the station I had just departed from, sting-sharp and hateful. “Not two years,” I replied, grimly amused.

“Two decades.”

He blinked. “You hardly look a day over sixteen,” he told me, finally. “It simply cannot be.”

“Have you not noticed? We do not age here. My hair has not grown an inch since the day I began wandering. Our wounds do not heal. Old Akat died from blood loss after she stepped on a nail. So believe me when I say, I too am careful.” The last words emerged in a hiss, barely more than the steam that powered our train.

“I- Twenty years? I cannot imagine how painful that must be, and with you so young. You poor-” The squealing of the train's halt cut off the rest of his words, sparing me the pain of telling him about the lonely nights, the shivering desperation that had festered in my heart, the slow death of a hope that should never have existed in the first place.

The doors swung open, and I fled out. The lands beyond were smoggy, thick with mist and carbon monoxide. Yet I could see the telltale signs of suburbia beyond. They reminded me of the days before, and it twisted the knife Hama had stabbed my bruised heart with. So I snapped, with a childish vengefulness, “And there's no such thing as a way back!”

The doors clanged shut firmly on my back, and Hama left with them. It was dangerous to be on a train alone, of course, but he had willingly taken that risk in the name of what… A rumour? That the midnight train would take you home?

Foolishness, I insisted, and tried to ignore the way the streetlights looked just the way they had twenty years ago. The streets were so similar, too. There were the potted plants lining the sidewalks, forcing me to walk on the roads home. There were the birdcages and the washing machines beneath crowded canopies.

The tracks disappeared behind me, leaving me exactly where I had left twenty years ago. The road signs were identical. I was on the right street, too. Just a short way away from a house I had once resided in.

It was absurd, of course. Once you wandered, you would never find your way home again. Everyone knew that.

Still, the worm of hope gnawed at the apple core of my soul. I kicked a stone angrily, as though that would chase the emotion away. It did not, and I continued striding grimly.

But if I truly believed I could not go home, why did I continue wandering? Why not settle down like Haru did, in some strange town with four-eyed people? Why not make a new place to live and call… Well, a place to live. I could not bring myself to say the word, even after all those years away.

That house was different, I noted with fierce satisfaction. There had never been a house with a green roof in the past. That settled it, of course. My paranoia was simply acting up again.

Yet- a lot could change in two decades. It might even have been more than that, for all I knew. I had met a wanderer who forgot their own name, once. A couple of years could have easily gone amiss.

Before I could banish the niggling thought, my over-sharp eyes caught the next house's number. 542. Just a short distance from my old ho- habitat.

Damn, but I wanted to go back. 

What could it hurt? If I went there and proved to myself I was not, in fact, back, I could put the irritant to rest once and for all. My feet took me along the path I had once taken back from school. Or a close mimicry of it, at least.

I came upon the house sweating slightly. Not out of excitement. I merely wanted to get it over and done with, to rid myself of this compulsion.

The lawn was slightly overgrown, utterly unlike how my father would have left it. The roof had more than a few tiles that needed replacing. Our swing was there, but the rope was fraying. The fault of time, or a sloppy trap.

The lights were on. Warm light shone through the windows. I could here people moving about, eating and chatting and doing whatever it was people did in their locations of staying. I had almost forgotten how such things went, with no need to eat or drink.

It was probably a trap, a lie, or one of those odd coincidences that occurred sometimes. Pressing that doorbell, which looked nothing like my old one, was a ridiculous idea. Yet my finger was drawn to it like a moth to flame.

The bell rang like the train's whistle.

With the scuffing of chairs and curious exclamations, the door swung open. An old woman, her skin wrinkled with liver spots, stood on the other side. “Eh?” She narrowed her eyes at me.

Before common sense could take over, I pulled down my hoodie and took off my mask, baring my face to the world. 

The woman made a small choking noise. “M- May-”

“Maya,” I said quickly, the way I told the strangers I met on my wanderings. “Call me Maya.” What she would call me had I not interrupted, I did not want to know.

“Oh.” She deflated slightly. Her ugly flower-print dress did remind me of my mother's sense of fashion. “You remind me of my daughter, was all. Though you're much too young to be her. Ah, what was the matter?”

I froze. What was I to say: ‘Hello, I have been frozen in time for twenty years wandering world to world and boy, you sure look like my mother aged up by two decades'? 

The silence stretched on. It was doing a lot of that recently, I noted. “You remind me of my mother, too,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper, not needing the train's clanging to drive it underground. “Though it has been twenty years since I last saw her.”

The woman who looked awfully like my mother stared into my eyes. “James? Come here. There's something you need to see,” she cried, in lieu of something better to say.

James was my father's name too. Another funny coincidence. The old man who wheeled himself to the door had an uncanny semblance to him too, though my real father would never have ended up in a wheelchair.

He looked up and me and let a little gasp out. “It- Oh my god, it can't be. Allison, are you seeing this?”

My mother had been named Allison. I was reminded of another one of her favourite sayings. ‘Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.’ This had to be a trap. Yet, for some reason, I could not bring myself to leave.

The woman who could not possibly be my mother told him, “She says her name is Maya.”

He regarded me thoughtfully. “What's your favourite juice, kid? And who were your best friends in primary five?”

“I'm torn between apple and grape juice, and my closest friends were Betty and Qi Le, though I hung out with Josh a lot too,” I answered promptly, before cursing myself. What was I doing, handing out private information? That was how wanderers got caught! “Go on, tell me: what did your daughter make for you for science class when she was 10?”

Allison and James, my parents' doppelgangers, exchanged another concerned glance. “I’ll do you one better than that,” Allison told me. She reached back into the room and brought out a little clay dragonfly. “This was a part of the set yo- I mean, she made. The larvae and the eggs are lost, but we kept this.”

I did not know whether to laugh or weep. It was green. The one I had made was blue. Oxidation, a part of me whispered. Lies, the other bit cried. “Yep,” I whispered. “That's the one.”

“You had best come inside,” James said, his motorised wheelchair whirring slightly as he backed into the kitchen. My father was braver than that. He would not back away from discomfort. “Would you like some apple juice?”

“Oh, I don't really eat or drink anymore.” I smiled bitterly at their horrified expressions and stepped past Allison into the room. “It all comes right back up again.”

I had tried, of course. I had gulped down water from a dozen streams, begged food off of strange people and taped my mouth shut to keep it down. No matter what I did, my intestines simply rejected it. I could never feel full. I could never feel hungry. I had learnt to accept it long ago, but I could never feel truly alive.

I took up my old place at the table, in the corner next to the old bookshelf. It was still there, though its contents were devoid of all my young adult romances. “What are you?” Allison had a slight roundness to her eyes. Fear. I felt the same when she clenched her fist up. Old though she was, even a single blow from her had the potential to kill me.

“I am a girl who walked into a strange train station in the middle of the street twenty years ago, and wandered for two decades since,” I told her bluntly. It was the same line I gave all my hosts. “How are Qi Le and Betty?”

My mother's brow crinkled and she blinked away a couple of tears. “Is it really you? I- I mean- It's been so long, and you haven't aged a bit. You know, Qi Le's got a little boy. He's hardly younger than you were when you…” She shrugged.

“Wandered off,” I finished. I crossed my arms. “Qi Le would never have a kid. She's deathly afraid of pregnancy. So the question remains: How do I know it's really you?” I glanced down at her leg, the skirt covering her calf. “Still have your tattoo?”

It might have been better to walk off there and then. Damn, but I wanted to go back. I actually wanted to be back on my train and my endless worlds. “Of course it's me,” Allison snarled, sharper than my mother ever would have at me. “And Qi Le adopted, for heaven's sakes! You're the one who doesn't eat or drink, who hasn't blinked since you came in, and whose expression barely changes!”

“Your tattoo,” I repeated. I had come to terms with what I was long ago. It was… tolerable. 

My ‘mother’ went peculiar. Her face slackened and eyes went blank, like a marionette without a puppeteer. I got up and began walking to the door. Of course it was a lie. Twenty years wandering, and I still had the foolishness to believe rumours? I was worse than Hama.

“Maya, right?” My ‘father’ waved to me from his place in the kitchen, as I crossed the door's threshold. “Pardon your mother. We aren't so young anymore, kiddo. The stress has been a bit too much for her.” He wheeled himself up the ramp, which had not been there when I last at my house, and gently prodded Allison. She jerked herself back upright and inhaled sharply.

“I’m fine,” my ‘mother’ snapped. “And as for my tattoo, I had it removed. My wrinkling skin was ruining it. It's been twenty years, Mayra. Twenty years, and you haven't aged a day. What the hell happened to you?”

Mayra was my name. Or, it had been many years ago. “I don't know,” I admitted. “It just did.” What was I even doing here? On the tiny, tiny off chance that this was real, it would only hurt me. “Qi Le's got a kid? What's he like?” 

With the same exhaustion that permeated her entire being, my mother sighed. “Here, take this and phone her.” She handed me a little metal slide.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” I shook it slightly. “And where's the cordless? It was dope.” I had been so proud of the old thing.

“Oh, sweetie,” James said. “It's been twenty years. Things have changed since then. Phones are smaller these days, and they're all cordless.” He took the phone from me and tapped on it.

That settled it. I had seen my fair share of strange technologies, and nothing from the world I once came from looked even slightly like this. Even so, I accepted the phone when James returned it, and pressed it to my ear.

“Hey, QL,” I said, when she picked up the call. “It's me.”

There was nothing but static on the other end. Finally, she responded, sniffling slightly as she did so. “If this is a prank, it's not a very good one. Mayra died a long time ago, but that doesn't make it alright to joke about it.” Her voice was so husky, so unlike her.

“It's me,” I repeated. “Did you get to go with Kyle to prom?”

Qi Le took a shuddering breath. “Where have you been, you idiot? And no, Kyle went with Gwen. You know, the stupid mean girl in our class? Yeah, and she's the CEO of some big shot company now. Kyle married a man. I got to go to their wedding. Damn it, I spent three years hunting all over the country for you. Your parents- They cried themselves to sleep every night. How could you?”

There had never been a Gwen in our class. Had my memory failed me, or was this a lie that swept by? And Kyle- Kyle who always talked about girl's looks? Ridiculous. I listened to her tirade silently. “Hey- Mayra, you still there? I'm sorry, it's just been a long day. Kai got detention, you know, and God, I'm just so worried about him.”

“Kai's your son?” The idea of Qi Le, ever the rebel, being upset over her kid getting detention seemed hypocritical to me. 

“Yeah,” she admitted. “He's a little brat, but he tries his best. He goes to the school that replaced ours. Where are you? I'll come pick you up. We can chat in person. That is, if you want.”

“Tell me something first,” I murmured into the phone. “What was my last name?”

Qi Le scoffed. “It's been two decades, May. I don't remember things as good as I used to. Also, you still sound like a kid.” She exhaled loudly. “It was Brown, wasn't it? Mayra Brown.”

“Hmm,” I replied, noncommittal. “Mom? Pops?’

The people who called themselves my parents perked up. “Yeah, kiddo?”

“What's our last name?”

My father laughed. “Have you forgotten all that already? It's Brown. You used to say it was the colour of your hair.”

I smiled wanly. “QL? You still there?” The vague sound of water came from the phone.

“Yeah, just gotta wash the dishes. You need me to pick you up?” I could picture her, wearing gloves up to her elbows to protect her overly sensitive skin. The motherly tone in her voice matched nothing I ever remembered, however.

Damn, but I wanted to go… Home.

There. I said it. I missed home. I missed the world I had once lived in. I missed my family, my school and my friends. Perhaps, just perhaps, this had been home once. Certainly, if I squinted, it looked similar enough. But my friends had grown up, my school was torn down, my parents old and withered. 

The home I remembered was no more. But I could start over, just like Haru and Venn and all the other wanderers who had settled down. 

“No,” I said. “It's fine. I'm already home. Thanks for everything. Tell Betty to keep grooving, and hopefully without those fugly bell jeans.” Before she could respond, I hung up.

Turning to my parents, I threw my arms around my mother, then bent down to hug my father. “If you really are my parents,” I whispered, just loud enough to hear, “Then I'm grateful to see you again.”

With the same caution I had thrown to the wind earlier, I disentangled myself from them. They smelled different, of pills and age. My mother brushed my cheek slightly. “Come on, Mayra, and tell us everything.”

“Alright,” I said, and allowed myself to be led back home.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finickyfelix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @oliolioxenfreewrites (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: werewolf steve and his pack. (I don't want them to call Steve 'mom')

My love, ask and you shall receive! This is still super different from my usual, so hopefully it’s okay. I didn’t edit this, but I know you’ll be kind of there’s mistakes ❤️❤️😘😘 Accidental wolf Eddie? Is that a trope? I’m making it one. Welcome to the party accidental wolf Eddie! - Mickala ❤️

———————————-

Steve was running late. He was never late.

Robin was pacing back and forth, staying in her human form so she could yell at him before shifting.

The kids had all shifted, nervous about doing so without their leader here, but feeling the itch. Robin sent them to Skull Rock already, not wanting them to be around when she tore Steve apart.

Deep down, she knew it was a good reason. Steve wouldn’t have been late if it wasn’t for an emergency.

But she was still mad at him for not trying to call them if he knew he was going to be late. He knew how the kids panicked if he wasn’t exactly where he was supposed to be when he was supposed to be.

Especially since Billy.

Six months wasn’t enough time for them to move on, and even though Steve was going better, his wolf form still showed every scar from the interaction. It was tough for all of them to see, but they dealt with it.

Robin’s head perked up when she heard tires in the distance.

That better be Steve.

The hardest part of having “wolf tendencies” as they all jokingly called it, was the ridiculously good hearing they had in both forms. Robin could hear a pin drop from half a mile away. It proved to be pretty fucking distracting at school.

She could hear Steve’s footsteps coming through the woods, not running, but walking at a brisk pace, like he knew he was in trouble.

He wasn’t hurt then, at least.

Now she wouldn’t feel so bad yelling at him.

When Steve appeared though, he had someone with him. How had she missed the other footsteps?

She recognized him immediately as the school “freak”, Eddie Munson.

She never called him that, didn’t even know the guy really, but he was definitely odd.

She wouldn’t judge though. In fact, she needed to hear this explanation before she started in on Steve.

“Nice of you to show up.”

Okay, so she couldn’t help letting him know she was upset immediately.

“You weren’t kidding she’d be pissed,” Eddie mumbled.

“Yeah, she’s pissed,” Robin said as she crossed her arms. “Why is he here?”

Steve sighed.

“Sorry, where’s everyone?”

“I sent them out already. They’re worried. I’ve been worried.”

Steve looked to Eddie and gestured for him to speak.

“Okay, so this is kinda my fault. I was having a bit of a…uh…wolf problem? And Steve was there.”

A wolf problem. Eddie Munson had a wolf problem.

“What wolf problem could you have possibly had?”

Steve and Eddie shared a look. What the hell was happening?

“Uh. I turned into one?”

“Right. We do that? Like, often?”

“Well, I didn’t before today.”

Robin froze.

Normally, the first shift happened by your tenth birthday, sometimes earlier. It was almost unheard of for anyone’s first shift to happen after 13. So the fact that Eddie was 20 years old and just shifting made Robin concerned.

“Wait, never?”

“Never.”

“You’re sure?”

“Am I sure I’ve never become a werewolf before? Yeah, pretty fuckin’ sure.”

Steve snorted, but Robin sent him a glare.

“So, how did Steve get involved?”

“I was on my way here and saw him stumbling on the side of the road. I kind of panicked because he looked hurt. Pulled over, he was whimpering, I calmed him down so he could shift back.”

“Were you hurt?”

“Hurt my leg when I shifted. But it’s better now. Steve got me ice on the way here.”

Robin looked at the blush on Steve’s face, at the way Eddie was nervously playing with his rings.

“Oh my god.”

They both looked at her with those stupid Bambi eyes.

“You can’t be serious, Steve.”

“What?”

Eddie was inching closer to Steve, watching Robin and Steve talk.

“We don’t even know him! You welcomed him to the pack? He didn’t even know what a pack was an hour ago!”

“He can learn! Plus, he knows Dustin and Mike. He can’t be alone, you know how bad that is for us.”

“But now he’s your responsibility! Don’t you have enough kids to take care of?”

“He’s not a kid! He just needs someone to help him a little at first and then he’ll be just as valuable as all of us.”

“Jesus, Steve. You can’t let a stupid crush join the pack just because you feel bad. What happens when he doesn’t feel the same way? Think about what happened with Nancy.”

Steve felt his heart stop. Eddie let out a growl as he wrapped a hand around Steve’s waist.

Robin backed up immediately.

“Shit. He imprinted on you, didn’t he?”

“Robs.”

“Steve, this is dangerous. No offense to Eddie, I’m sure he’s nice and could maybe be pack someday, but this isn’t good. The kids won’t want to share you like this.”

“The kids or you?”

Robin looked down.

“Both.”

Steve wrapped his arm around Eddie, whispered something to him, then pulled away.

He walked up to Robin, pulling her into a hug.

“Robs, he’s not replacing any of you. That’s the point of a pack, we all have different roles but they’re all just as important. Don’t you think the kids were worried about the same thing when you joined?”

“I just don’t want you to forget that we all need you.”

“I won’t. We all have to help Eddie, okay? Not just me.”

“But he imprinted on you, Steve. That’s really serious. That never happens.”

“I know. It’ll be okay, though. We should go to the kids so they don’t come looking,” Steve said with a kiss against the top of her head.

Robin pulled away and walked over to Eddie, who looked like he wanted to cry.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Eddie nodded.

“You don’t have to be. We’re a family and now you’re part of it, okay?” Robin smiled at him, pulling him into a hug.

Steve nodded towards the direction they needed to walk, smiling at both of them.

It didn’t take long to get to where the kids were, all of them pacing in their wolf forms.

Robin went behind the rock to shift, still nervous to do so in front of everyone. Steve turned to Eddie before he did anything else.

“You don’t have to shift again if you don’t want to. But I need to, and we’ll probably all go for a run. If you wanna stay here, we don’t go far and we don’t go for long.”

“I wanna go.”

Steve smiled.

“Then let’s go.” He kissed Eddie’s forehead and smirked when his pack all let out huffs of air. “Ignore them, they’ll be fine.”

—————-

Shifting back to human was always a shock, but never as much as when they all did it together.

“Why the hell is Eddie here?” Dustin yelled as he threw his clothes on quickly.

“Language!” Steve yelled as he touched Eddie’s face, took a quick inventory of his breathing and overall mood. “Eds? Doing okay?”

“Yeah. Stomach hurts.”

“That’s normal the first few times. Just take a deep breath and let it out slow.”

“Steve! Why is Eddie here?” Mike asked.

All the kids surrounded them, Robin standing to the side with Max, helping her braid her hair again.

“Guys, he needs a minute.” Steve ignored them all, pulling Eddie close to him so he could relax against his shoulder. “Today was his first shift and he imprinted.”

“On you?!” Mike yelled.

“Mike, if you can’t chill out, then you need to leave.”

“Oh my god. You made him pack already, didn’t you?”

Steve ignored them still, his focus entirely on Eddie, busy helping him get his clothes on.

Steve kissed his forehead and turned to the group of kids with their mouths open.

“Holy shit.” They all said at once.

“I’ll answer your questions later. Eddie’s had a rough day, and he needs to get to a place where he can rest safely. You all remember how exhausted you were after your first shift. And you expected it. Eddie didn’t. Give him space.”

“But.”

“No buts. Robin’s gonna get you all home and we’ll talk tomorrow. But yes, Eddie’s pack, which means we all take care of him. This isn’t up for discussion.”

Luckily, the kids didn’t argue, and Robin was quick to follow Steve’s instructions.

Eddie was shaking in his arms, but he was still focusing on breathing, and letting Steve help him through it.

“You’re doing amazing, Eds.”

“This gets better?”

“It gets easier. It helps being part of a pack like ours, too.”

“They don’t want me here,” Eddie sounded sad, his body slumping completely into Steve’s side.

“Honey, that’s not it. They’re just used to it being us. They did the same with Robin.”

“I want them to like me.”

“You already know Dustin and Mike do. They’re just surprised is all. Everyone will love you.”

———————

Steve was right.

The next day, Eddie was woken up by all of the kids jumping on him and Steve in Steve’s bed, but he didn’t mind.

They all cuddled around them, Dustin claiming the small space between them.

Steve explained how he found Eddie, Eddie explained what he was feeling.

He explained how he felt with the imprint on Steve, how he felt slight panic the moment Steve started to separate from him. How it helped to be invited into the pack, but he still felt a pull to him.

That he didn’t realize this was even possible for him and as far as he knew, no one in his family were werewolves.

But much to Steve’s delight, the kids welcomed him with open arms. Literally. They all pulled him into a group hug and told him they were happy he was here.

Robin sat at the end of the bed, smiling at Steve.

She thought about how he’d been telling her only a week ago that he felt like their pack wasn’t complete, that it felt like a piece was missing.

But it looks like he found the piece. They all did.

[koffeesfancy]

19. "this is getting ridiculous" | Koffee x Reader

Summary: How can you be mad when you don't even know what you are to each other?

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Romance, fluff, angst

Word Count: 1224

A/N: Yes, ma'am your eyes have not deceived you. I am publishing the rest of my Fictober fics in November. I had to take a break due to work and other stress. As an aside, y'all would jump me if you knew how long this was fully edited and sitting in my drafts simply because I'm too lazy to format lol.

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly@prettymrswright@onyxstones-world

The weights clanged loudly as you threw the last set back onto the rack, rolling your eyes before you could stop yourself. The gym was empty and silent, save for the hum of the overhead lights and the sound of your own heavy breathing. You knew you were letting this get to you too much, but every time you tried to focus, your gaze drifted back to Mikayla—and each glance felt like another blow to your pride.

She was leaning against the wall, looking way too good for this time of night. Her short shorts showed off her toned legs and the sleek, lean muscles she worked hard for, her hazelnut skin almost glowing under the lights. Her sleeveless shirt clung to her, accentuating her strong shoulders and the smooth curves of her arms, the lines of her body nearly as sharp as your irritation. Her locs were thrown up in a casual bun, a few strands framing her face, and her low, brown eyes held that same half-lidded look she got after a tough workout—focused but somehow inviting, like she knew exactly the kind of effect she was having on you.

“Yuh naffi nothing to say?” Her voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to reality just as you’d started to reminisce on how those arms felt around you. Her tone was sharp but soft, like she was trying to act unbothered but wanted you to pick up on the frustration buried underneath.

You felt your mouth tighten as you glanced away, trying to ignore the pull of her stare. “Why would I have something to say?” you shot back, forcing your tone to stay light. But your words dropped heavily between you, weighted down by everything you’d been keeping quiet all week. “I don’t have anything to say, especially since you’ve been too busy to hear it anyway.”

Mikayla rolled her eyes before she pushed off the wall, crossing her arms. The sight made it harder to keep the irritation on your face instead of something else.

“Awah get yuh vex now?” she asked, tilting her head, her low-lidded gaze meeting yours as she waited. “Yuh cut yuh eye at me all week, but now yuh ah act shy when mi finally give yuh attention?”

You narrowed your eyes and gave a small, annoyed huff, doing the only thing that came to mind—you grabbed your clipboard off the equipment rack and tossed it a little too hard onto a nearby counter. The sound echoed, and you knew it was childish, but something in you just wanted her to see exactly how annoyed you were.

Mikayla’s footsteps approached, slow and measured, and you felt your heart stutter, thumping wildly as she came closer. She stopped just a few inches away, so close you could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. The way her eyes scanned your face, then dropped down to your clenched hands, was somehow both infuriating and magnetic. She was close enough now that you could smell a hint of coconut oil, and you tried not to let it get to you, not to let your nerves show.

A smirk played on her lips as she leaned in, her voice low and smooth. “This is gettin’ ridiculous,” she murmured, eyes never leaving yours. Her smirk widened as you swallowed, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. “Yuh jealous?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter over your chest, your cheeks suddenly feeling warm. “Why would I be jealous? I don’t care who you hang out with,” you replied, but the words tumbled out faster than you’d meant, and you hated how defensive they sounded. You tried to steady yourself, but with her this close, every little movement she made sent sparks through your whole body.

“Mm-hmm,” she replied, her tone lilting with teasing disbelief. “So why yuh so pressed?” She was laughing now, her gaze flicking between your eyes and the slight pout tugging at your mouth.

Your heart raced as you stammered, looking anywhere but at her. “I’m not pressed, you’re just…you’re the one who—” You broke off, your words dissolving under her steady stare.

Before you could stammer out another excuse, Mikayla’s hands found your shoulders, pressing you back until you felt the cool surface of the wall mirror against your back. Her fingers lingered on your shoulders, her touch grounding you even as it sent a wave of heat through your whole body.

"Yuh know…" she started, her voice low, calm, her eyes never leaving yours. "The new girl—she just here fi work. She not even interested in anyone here, especially me." She chuckled softly, amused by your reaction. "I gave her a ride home, because we live in the same apartment building… Along with her fiancé and two little boys.”

Hearing her say it out loud made you feel silly—though the jealousy that had been festering all week didn’t fade completely, it softened, replaced by something warmer and more unsettling as Mikayla’s gaze swept over your face.

Her smirk widened as she watched your expression shift. "A so? Now yuh quiet," she teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Just admit it, you’re… jealous." Her words held a playful challenge, daring you to be honest.

You tried to pull it together, but your voice came out quieter than you intended. "I’m… I just don’t like seeing you leave with someone else," you admitted, finally meeting her gaze again. The way she looked at you now, like you were the only thing in the room worth her attention, made your heart race all over again.

Mikayla's gaze softened as she watched you, the teasing glint in her eyes melting into something warmer. Her hands slid down from your shoulders, trailing lightly along your arms until her fingers entwined with yours. She leaned in closer, her voice low and steady, making your pulse quicken.

“So what is this, then?” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin, her eyes searching yours. The teasing was gone, replaced with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

You took a shaky breath, feeling the last bit of resistance in you unravel. "I… I want this to be more than whatever we’ve been pretending it is," you admitted, squeezing her hands gently. “I don’t want it to feel like something casual.”

A small smile played at her lips, as if she’d been waiting for you to say it all along. "Good…" she whispered, leaning even closer. “Because I wouldn’t like you with someone else either.”

With that, she closed the distance between you, her lips brushing softly against yours, and suddenly everything felt right. The kiss was slow, unhurried, her hands sliding up to cup your face, pulling you deeper as she kissed you like she had all the time in the world. The frustration, the jealousy, the awkward silences—all of it melted away, leaving only the warmth of her lips on yours, her steady heartbeat pressed against you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you a little breathless, she rested her forehead against yours, eyes closed, a soft smile playing on her face. "So… we good now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You let out a quiet laugh, nodding as you looked up at her, feeling lighter than you had all week. "Yeah, we’re good."

[littlestkoi-n]

the main reason I'm an average height Remus truther - aside from this little fact being canon - is simple:

the only "tall, thin and gangling, with big hands and feet, and a long nose" character I advocate for is Ronald Weasley who deserves to tower over each and every authority figure he encounters.

so by 3rd year Ron is 5'11 / 180 cm which is ridiculously tall for a 13 year old boy and makes him slightly taller than all his Professors:

btw UK average adult heights are 5'4-5'6 for women and 5'8-5'10 for men

5'10 / 178 cm McGonagall (described as a tall woman)

5'9.5 / 177 cm Snape (rather shorter than Sirius; slightly taller than Narcissa, who's exactly 5'8 / 173 cm for me)

5'9 / 176 cm Lupin (not described = average)

5'8 / 172 cm Filch (not described = average; not a Prof but Staff)

5'7 / 170 cm Sinistra (not described, but she was on the taller side in the movies so I'll give her that. shorter than Minerva still)

5'6 / 167 cm Trelawney (not described = average)

5'1 / 154 cm Sprout (describes as a squat little woman)

4'5 / 134 cm Flitwick (described as tiny but has distant goblin ancestry so I see him as being 5 inches taller than average goblin)

Dumbledore doesn't count cuz Ron barely stands next to the man and I reckon it's pretty hard to grow over 2 meters at 13. Hagrid is irrelevant cuz half-giant.

then Ron gets kidnapped by the first adult that year who looms over him at 6'3 / 191 cm - no wonder Sirius is terrifying, being that tall.

by the time Sirius dies Ron only grows to 6'2.5 / 189 cm so he never gets to be taller than him... shit now I'm making myself sad.

anyway, when he's done growing Ron is 6'5 / 196 cm, making him the tallest Weasley and probably the tallest man in any room ever.

[strawberryfairi]

Hello, you haven't updated Hanma's fic for a long time, why?🤧

Synopsis✨: The story of how you catch heavy feelings for the hot photography student, Shuji Hanma…even though you already have the perfect (fake) boyfriend.

Pairings: Photography Student! Shuji Hanma X Dance Major! Black Fem 🤎 Reader (ANYONE CAN READ🧚🏾‍♀️) Content: Drama, lots of denial, angst, sneaky link, lots of cheating, mutual pining, unserious Shuji, controlling parents, forced relationships, romance, fighting, porn with a good plot vibes, intense sexual tension, etc (just find out the rest lol)

w.c: 4.6k💠 Released: March 13, 2024

Previous | Next Chapters Masterlist

NOTE: I'm so utterly sorry for how long it's taken to post this next chapter. The writer's block I've been going through has been absolutely INSANE! But thank y'all for bearing with me and here goes chapter 5. I wanted to make this chapter as spicy/exciting yet non cringe as possible so hopefully I was able to cook.

C.W: Heavy smut, p in v, deep throating, lots of begging

5; SIN 罪

"I-I-..what are you doing?" You stutter completely flustered.

"Just tellin' you what's on my mind." He shrugs plainly, a smug grin on his face.

"Well stop. I didn't ask what you were thinking." You shoot back with as much sassiness as you could muster, trying to regain your composure. Hanma laughs lightly, a surprisingly cute laugh that almost makes you smile too.

"You trynna boss me around in my own place?" He raises a teasing brow.

"Yeah, when you're doin' things you're not supposed to." You clap back.

"Aaw, but you like it. You like it so much you're soakin' wet right now." He murmurs right by your left ear.

Once again you went speechless, feeling trapped because he was right. There was no point in trying to lie about this one. "I know you wanna try to act like you went and just forgot about what we did, but we both know you wanna finish what we started just as much as I do." He says, looking you dead in the eyes.

"I don't.." You trail off.

"Don't act like you don't think about it, about me stretching this little pussy out-

"Stop!"

"-About making you cum over and over again."

"Please don't! Don't do this!" You whimper anxiously, looking down to the floor in an overwhelming blend of emotions. He chuckles mischievously, lifting your head up once again to look him in the eyes. "You know what I think about? I imagine the look on your face when you're fucked out way passed your limit, your cute little legs shaking while you cry to me about it being too much. Uuugh, and I think about you on yours knees for me, letting me teach you how to use that pretty throat when you suck my dick." He runs his tongue across his bottom lip lewdly, that sultry tone in his voice making your pussy gush.

"Don't talk like that." You mumble desperately.

"Come ooon pretty girl. Stop acting like you don't wanna fuck me, like you don't want me to slut you out." He coos, brushing his lips temptingly against your neck. You let out a shaky breath, trying so hard to keep your composure. The way he talks to you like this, so dirty and without a care, it turns you on so ridiculously much.

"I-I'm not acting! We..really can't do this!" You shake your head with your brows furrowed, you're so conflicted.

"We can, baby. We can do it right here on this wall, on the bed...both." He hums, lightly sucking on your neck.

An airy moan slips passed your lips at his words, involuntarily turning your head to give him better access. "Sounds nice doesn't it?" He purrs.

"Wait wait, Kenny's gonna find out! He'll be pissed!" You protest nervously.

"He won't find out." He murmurs against your skin while planting a hickey a few inches above your collarbone. "Yeah he will! H-He'll kill me; and you too." You mutter desperately between moans, grabbing two small fistfuls of his hoodie.

"He's not gonna find out, don't worry. You're safe with me, angel." He assures.

You knew you weren't anywhere close to safe with him. You were teetering on the edge of a cliff, just seconds from plummeting into an unforgiving pit of fire. Your resolve and faithfulness is a complete joke now, as thoughts of Ken seem to dissolve from the forefront of your mind with each passing second. But damn, it'd be a lie to say you didn't love it. It's so wrong, but the idea of finally having sex with Hanma makes your heart flutter in your chest like crazy. All those days you'd spent fantasizing and dreaming about what he'd feel like deep inside you-fuuuck, you could barely keep it together anymore. Your body practically craved him, begging and screaming for him to throw you on that huge bed and do whatever the hell he wanted to you. 'Cause quite honestly, a part of you would gladly let him.

Before you could respond, he leans away from your neck, grabbing the back of your thighs and picking you up. You gasp, naturally wrapping your arms around his neck as he sets your back against the cold wall next to the doorway.

Uuugh, he's gonna get you in so much trouble!

But to be honest...fuck it.

Hanma leans in, placing his wickedly sweet lips onto yours to which you gladly meet him halfway. You both moan together, tongues immediately crashing in a needy, sloppy kiss. The kiss is noisy, the sound of your mouths ravaging each other spurring you both on. You pull him impossibly close, placing your right hand on the nape of his neck while the other traces all along the muscles of his shoulder and chest over his hoodie.

His hands squeeze your thighs as he presses his hardening dick right against your aching, clothed pussy. Then he pulls away from your lips, his honey brown eyes on fire with lust. "Before I rip this little outfit off'a you, I want you to tell me you want me." He says breathily against your lips. He didn't have to tell you twice...

"I want you! I'm not supposed to, but I-I want you so bad! It hurts how bad I need it." You admit instantly, your face burning up with embarrassment at how pitiful and desperate you sounded.

"Hmmm, I don't think I'm too convinced by that, sweetheart. Y'sure you won't just try to forget again?" He tilts his head to the side, shifting his hands to grab your ass and grind against your pussy. You moan from the delicious friction he gave you, answering him frantically.

"No no, I won't forget! I didn't forget before either; I promise!" You respond frantically, shaking your head.

"Oh? But earlier you said you couldn't remember. Which is it-

"I was just lying! I was embarrassed 'cause I was trying not to want you this whole time." You whine, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I mean it. I really want you." You add softly. He looks into your eyes for a second, before giving you another toe curling kiss. You feel the coolness of the wall leave your back as he walks you over to the bed, sitting down on the edge with you in his lap. Then, he pulls away, shifting you around so you were lying in his lap on your stomach.

"What are you doi-

You cut yourself off with a loud cry, feeling a sting on your right ass cheek. You gasp in shock, trying to turn and look over at him. No he did not just smack your ass like that!

"Since I'm still not very convinced you won't turn around and tell me we should forget it, I'm gonna make sure I'm all you can think about after this. Got me, angel?"

Your brows furrow slightly in curiosity, yet you nod nonetheless. Abruptly he smacks your ass again, in the same exact spot as before. Your body jumps in response as you yelp again. "You seem to have a thing for not answering me with words, huh? How 'bout you try "yes, daddy"." He suggests smugly.

"Yes..daddy." You murmur shyly, looking to the floor in front of you. You swallow, feeling your face burn up in embarrassment at how much calling him that actually turned you on. A wicked grin makes its way across his lips. "That's perfect." He praises. "You don't mind if I play with you a little, right?" He asks mischievously, making your heart skip a beat.

"No daddy, I don't mind." You shake your head, biting your lip excitedly. "Good girl, you learn fast." His tatted hands grip and massage your ass, fingers slightly grazing against your pussy every now and then. Your hips start moving by themselves, trying to find any kind of friction to ease the growing achiness between your legs. Another smack onto your ass makes you cry out, halting your movements instantly. "Stay still." He commands sternly, smacking your ass four more times. You jump and whimper with each slap, trying to keep yourself as still as possible. 

Your whimpers turn into full out moans as he continues, his right hand finally rubbing your needy pussy, while the other firmly grips your ass. "Still want me, doll?" He murmurs.

"Yes! Yes daddy; I want you so bad!" You whine desperately, unconsciously grinding your hips back and forth on his hand. He moves his hand, making you pout, then shifts your teddy to the side. The cool air against your core gives you goosebumps all over. "Mm, look at this pretty pussy; goddamn." He hums, slipping his ring and middle finger between your folds, making you whimper from his touch. "So fuckin' wet." He whispers, watching you moan and squirm in his lap.

"Remember when I made you cum on my fingers?" He asks sensually, prodding around your needy entrance. "Yes daddy. Please do it again!" You beg, tilting your ass up. His left hand smacks your ass again. One, two, three times. He grips your right cheek, spreading you open and giving him the perfect view of his fingers on your pussy. Finally he slides his long fingers all the way in, making you gasp deeply, nearly seeing stars. You squirm around, trying to find something to hold on to.

"Ooooh! Fuck fuck fuck!" You holler, squeezing your eyes closed as he fingers you fast and deep. Your breathing turns into labored pants, failing miserably at keeping still. His fingers make your pussy talk, gushing and squelching with every pump. His free hand lays down rough slaps to each cheek, going back and forth. "Yes yeess!" You repeat like a mantra. Your legs start shaking, the mix of pleasure and stinging pain driving you straight into your first orgasm. "If you wanna cum, you'd better ask first." He says sternly, nearly making your eyes roll back.

"Ca-can I cum please, daddy?! I can't-..." You whimper, feeling yourself getting closer. Your hands ball into fists, unable wait for his answer, you're too close.

Then...he stopped.

You blink a few times, trying to process what just happened. His fingers pull out of you, and go back to gripping your ass along with his other hand.

"Why'd you stop?!" Your question comes out whiny and a highly annoyed. He definitely knew you were seconds from cumming. "I thought you didn't mind if I played with you?" He teases, squeezing and rubbing circles on your ass. You were speechless. You've never been denied an orgasm before, ever. It felt terrible, like you were just ripped out of an amazing dream. It felt even worse since he clearly enjoyed doing that to you.

"Aaaw, you didn't like that, babydoll?" He giggles (yes, giggles), his tone faking innocence.

"No..." You grit out lowly. You'd be glaring at him if you weren't facing away from him.

"Daddy's sorry. I'll let you cum this time." He assures soothingly, slipping his hand down to rub circles on your clit. You let out a blissful moan, instantly forgetting about your denied orgasm. He smacks your ass hard, just as he goes and slides his two fingers inside you again. "Mmmmm." You bite your lip, determined this time to get off. He slides his fingers in and out slowly, so slowly actually that it was getting rather annoying.

"Go faster." You whimper, moving your hips back. You jump, feeling a particularly hard smack against your left cheek. It stung so bad. "OW!"

"Stop moving." Is all he says, continuing with that same miserable ass pace. You whine, forcing your hips still as you take what he gives. This is absolutely not what you thought he meant when he said he wanted to play with you. This isn't playing, this is torture. "Pleaaase, go faster!" You beg desperately, tears nearly forming in your eyes. His strokes were so shallow, and slow, it felt good but you needed more badly. You needed him much deeper. He takes out his fingers with a little pop sound, much to your dismay, and spreads your wetness around your clit. "Noooo, I need more! Daddy please! I can't do this!" You sob defeatedly.

"Yes you can, baby." He coos softly, rubbing your entrance with his thumb. "I caaan't!" You whine, hips just slightly moving. He stops you with another hard smack, you mewl, feeling the tears trying to fall from your eyes.

"Look at you cryin' for me." He grins, a wicked laugh leaving his lips. You pout with a defeated groan, only amusing him further. He had you right where he wanted you. "I wanna cum so bad; I need you. Please daddy, pleaaaase." You beg exasperatedly. He moans, running his two fingers up and down your folds, then abruptly slides them back inside. "Uuughh!" You moan loudly, keeping still as he pushes them all the way in. He sets a pace, deep, and much faster than before. "That feel better, angel?" He murmurs sensually. "Uh huh! Uh huh!" You moan breathlessly, frantically nodding your head up and down. "Say thank you daddy." He commands, upping the pace further.

"Th-thank you daddy, thank you, thank you!" You repeat over and over, starting to shake all over again. His other hand smacks and squeezes your ass cheek, turning you on like crazy. You start panting, your orgasm hitting you out of nowhere. "Ooh fuck! Can I cum-oh my god-c-can I cum, daddy?!" You ask wildly, legs trembling even worse than before. "Hmmm, nah." He says, pulling his fingers out. "Nooo! Don't stop, don't sto-

He silences you with a hard smack on your ass, making you whimper and whine, the tears already fully streaming down your cheeks. He chuckles evilly, lifting you up and placing you on the floor on your knees in front of him. You look up at him wearily with a frustrated pout.

"I wanna see how you look with your mouth full of my dick. Then I promise I'll let you cum." Your expression immediately shifts, eyes sparkling in nervous excitement, watching him stand over you and pull his sweats and boxers down. His dick springs forward, nearly slapping against his stomach. He's huge, the length and width intimidating you as you wonder how you're gonna go about fitting all this in your mouth.

You opt for what seemed obvious to you, running your tongue and lips all over his shaft, then use your hands to stroke the base. Your mouth wraps around his tip, leaning forward and taking as much of him in as you could, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head back and forth. You set a pace for yourself, using your tongue to swirl around the tip as your hands help you with the rest.

"Not like that, baby." He says softly, cupping your face with his hands to stop you. "Don't use your hands."

You wanted to protest that you couldn't go any further with your mouth, but he's already guiding you down his length. Your eyes squeeze closed, hands grasping at his thighs as you gag and sputter on his dick. "That's it, all the way in." He praises, bringing his hips forward. Your mind was working in overdrive trying to figure out how to balance between breathing through your nose and keeping your throat relaxed so you wouldn't choke. This was very new to you, you've never done something like this, really because Ken has never told or asked you to. Hanma's pace is just enough to have your eyes watering, trying desperately to keep up as he uses your throat. He makes it messy, spit bubbling up around your lips and dripping down your chin. For a moment you remember you definitely put mascara on earlier for the shoot, it's highly likely long gone, lost in the tears around your eyes and cheeks.

"Fuuuck, that feels so good." His pleasured moans with the sound of your gagging and spitting blends with the music in the background. It shocked you how much you were enjoying this, your arousal literally flowing down your legs to your mid thighs. You ached so badly for him, but you liked that you were making him feel good like this. Your eyes flutter, feeling him suddenly hold you still, your trembling lips wrapped around the base of him. You sputter hard, struggling not to try and move your head away, lightly digging your nails into his legs.

Finally he pulls away, letting you breathe, coughing a little as you wipe your mouth. He helps you stand, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. "That was perfect, angel." He praised, leaning in and giving you a deep kiss, moving his tongue against yours. You moan, your hands traveling all over his neck and shoulders. Hanma turns towards the bed, throwing you near the pillows. He lifts his hoodie over his head, tossing it to the side before climbing on top of you. He pulls the string of your halter and helps you out of your teddy, leaving you in just your thigh high, white lace stockings.

"You're not gettin' any second thoughts about this, are you? 'Cause I can't stop now." He purrs, trailing kisses all along your neck and jawline. "Not at all." You shake your head, bringing him back up for another kiss. His right hand reaches between the two of you, lining himself up with your entrance and skillfully easing inside you.

He moans against your lips as you whimper loudly, basking in the feeling of stretching you out. You tense up instantly, gripping his shoulders while you pull away from the kiss, gasping at how he's already bullying his way past the entrance of your tight walls. Once just a little more than the tip of him is all the way in, your hands reach for his hips, trying to keep him from moving any further as your brows furrow tightly together. "Wait, wait..." You mutter shakily.

"You gonna give me this pussy, pretty girl?" He asks sensually, placing your legs over his shoulders and folding you in half. "Ahh!" You gasp, reaching up and digging your nails into his back. He reaches between you two, using his thumb and running circles over your clit, helping him go even further. "Too much. Wait...'s too much!" You struggle to speak. The deeper he went the more full you felt, practically seeing stars and other galaxies as he kept going.

"You don't know what too much is." Hanma teases. He pulls out just a bit, then rolls his hips forward, burying himself all the way inside you. "Oooh!" Your voice shook and cracked a bit as you mewled, squirming a little underneath him as your toes curled. Your walls clench onto him so tightly, barely even making space for him yet he continues anyway, your pussy squelching loudly with his long thrusts. "Oh my gooood." You moan lowly, throwing your head back in ecstasy, the discomfort finally slipping away. Your mouth hangs wide open, breathing heavily while he sets the most perfect pace.

"Shit, you feel me deep in this pussy, angel?" He asks, putting his hand right on your stomach, pressing down a little. Your breath catches in your throat, his hand on your stomach making you feel his big dick dragging back and forth in your walls even more. Both of your hands struggle to settle on where to rest, going from gripping his shoulders, to the sheets, his arms, his back. "Fuuuck! Yes, daddy!" You moan, your legs already trembling. Both of your gaze's meet, looking at each other with eyes completely clouded over with lust. He looks so damn good over you, his earring slightly swaying, and his muscles tensing and contracting with each movement he makes. Leaning himself up off of you, he uses the back of your knees to keep you pinned down, picking up the pace as his thrusts become harder.

Instantly your hands settle on gripping the sheets, crying out loudly, and arching your back off the bed. Your legs fight with his hands, testing his grip as they squirm and wriggle around aimlessly. Since he had edged you so much earlier, you're even more sensitive than usual. "I'm-I'm gonna c-cum!" You whimper in a high pitch, squeezing your eyes closed as your feel yourself quickly colliding with your first orgasm. Hanma lets go of one your legs, wrapping his hand around your neck, choking you while pounding his hips into you harder. "Yes daddy, yes, uugh shhiiit!" You cry out loudly, the feeling of his hand gripping your throat only making your pussy clench around him harder.

"Look at me when you cum, I wanna see those pretty eyes." He commands, his gaze fixed on you, taking in every single little thing. Your walls flutter wildly as you try to keep your eyes open, coating his length with a sloppy mix of cum and your cream.

Nothing but high pitched ah's and mewls leave your lips, feeling your whole body shake and twitch hard from the intensity of your orgasm. He was making it last longer, keeping that same perfect pace and angle that has him hitting so deep. "Mmm, so fuckin' sexy." He hums, watching your eyes roll back.

He slows to a stop as you finally come down from your orgasm, panting heavily as he lets go of your throat. Flipping you over he lifts you up by your hips, face down ass up. His hands run along your ass then up your back, making you moan softly as a sensual shiver runs down your spine from his touch. Leaning up, he slips back inside you, letting out a deep groan as his hands grip your hips tightly. His strokes are so long, hard, and deep, roughly hitting against your g-spot every single time.

"Oh my god, fuck! Yes yes!" You cry out loudly, gripping the sheets and pulling. "You look so good takin' this dick, angel. How's it feel?" He purrs lowly, breathing heavier as he pounds you from the back. "S-so gooood! 'S so big daddy!" You whimper, voice shaky from the impact of his hips against your ass. He moans in response, grabbing your ass and smacking each cheek hard. You cry out loudly, feeling your walls clench around him tighter when he did that.

"You're shakin' so much. Gonna cum again?" He murmurs sensually. You can't even respond anymore, nothing but loud moans fly past your lips, as drool from the corner of your mouth drops a bit on the sheets. Another orgasm shoots through your body, cum dripping along his dick and down onto the bed. Hot tears pool around your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks. Hanma doesn't bother to let you ride it out slowly, he keeps his thrusts steady and hard, forcing a second orgasm right on top of the previous one. You literally scream, your body quickly being overwhelmed by the intensity. "Damn, you're cummin' back to back for me, baby?" He moans deeply.

"I-I caaan't! Please..." You shudder so violently, your voice shook with every word like you were being tased. 

"Can't what?" Hanma teases. 

"S-slow down! Go-..go slower!" You stutter badly, regaining your hands grip on the sheets in front of you and attempting to pull yourself away from his relentless thrusts.

"'S it too much?" He asks innocently, his voice faux comforting. His hands grab onto your wrists, holding them back behind you like reigns as he fucks you rougher. This only made you cry harder, your arms shifting any kind of way to get out of his grip. Something about his thrusts made you feel different. Your pussy was sounding even sloppier now, and you could feel the cord in your core tightening up all over again, but this time much more intensely. You begged and whined for him to slow down or give you just a second to recompose, yet he just encourages you to take it. Your eyes roll back again, feeling yourself starting to really, really lose it.

"Oh my god, I'm cumming!" You announce shakily, loud ah's following shortly after as the cord finally snaps. You feel like you went and blacked out as you screamed, feeling like you just peed on yourself. Hanma made you squirt like a fountain on his dick, your juices trailing down your legs and splashing a bit against your ass as he keeps stroking. "Shit baby, you're makin' such a fuckin' mess. Gonna make me cum already." He groans watching you twitch and cry. His words didn't even register to you, you could only feel as a few moments later he pulls out, cumming right on your ass.

It takes you a second to realize what even happened as you come back to your senses. Your body flops down onto the bed lazily, still shaking violently while you pant. Your body was fried, you couldn't even move, and your mind was so fuzzy. Hanma laid next to you, the two of you breathing heavily together.

Finally you looked over at him, making instant eye contact with each other with the same sex-dazed expression. There's a few seconds of silence between you, nothing but the vibey music still playing in the background.

"That was-.."

The both of you speak at the same time, making each other laugh lightly. "Lemme clean you up." He murmurs, getting up from the bed and heading over to the bathroom. You sigh deeply, wearily scooting up to rest your head on the pillows that smell just like him. Hanma comes back shortly, hovering over you and wiping you down with a warm wash cloth. Chill bumps appear all over your body, the cool air finally starting to get to you now that your body's cooled down.

"Thank you." You mutter, turning your head to look at him. He responds with a kiss, planting his lips onto yours softly. You moan tiredly, placing a hand on his cheek before you pull away. In the few moments of silence, your eyes narrow skeptically as you notice him start grinning rather deviously at you.

"What?" You finally ask.

"Wanna go for round two?" He says excitedly, climbing on top of you.

"What?!" You scoff, looking up at him absolutely dumbfounded. "You heard me." He chuckles, tossing the wash cloth somewhere random while leaning down and planting wet kisses all over your neck. He's really deadass!

"Oh hold on, wait! I-I cannot-

You cut yourself off with a gasp, feeling him place your already exhausted legs over his shoulders.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hanma's grip on your ass tightens, picking up the pace as he bounces you on his cream coated dick.

"Uugh! Right there, right there! Daddyyyyy, oh my gooood!" You wail, squeezing your eyes closed as you cum for the fourth time in this position. He has you in his arms, both legs hanging over his arms as he lifts you up and down using his grip on your ass, standing near the bed.

You've never been in this position before but it instantly became a top favorite. The way it's just so nasty and loud, your skin slapping against his with every bounce. Then it's the way you're completely at his mercy, completely unable to move or get away. You're nothing but a little cock sleeve in this position, legs dangling in his strong arms as he uses you. Your nails dig into his shoulders, throwing your head back as you feel him bring you into another orgasm.  

"Ah shit, I'm close." He cusses breathily, his grip tightening. Right after you he finally reaches his climax, pulling out and cumming against your achy core. He lays you down on the bed, lazily throwing himself on top of you, soft puffs of air hitting against your neck from his panting. The two of you stay like that for a while, trying to slow your heart rates down while basking in the way the the both of you completely wore each other out. 

Hanma is by far the best you've ever had.

A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: Thank y'all so much for reading! I really threw my back into this chapter for y'all🥹 It's so encouraging to know that you guys really enjoy my stories and look forward to the next chapters. Feel free to comment any thoughts or inbox me too! I love hearing from y'all!

P.S: Don't worry I'll have Chapter 6 out next week ♡

[in-death-we-fall]

Parallel Lives

Kerrang 923, September 28 2002

In Slipknot, Joey Jordison gets to rage. In the Murderdolls, he gets to rock. In both bands, he shits in public…

Words: Ian Winwood Photos: Roxy Erickson

Never let it be said that the Murderdolls lack the capacity to surprise. It’s Thursday night, the penultimate date of their sold-out tour of British clubs, and the band were due onstage 10 minutes ago. Getting a band like this to do anything on time is like turning an oil tanker around, so they’re running late. Which means that the 500 people packed inside Bristol’s Fleece club are just going to have to wait.

Joey Jordison, on the other hand, cannot wait. Opting to change from ugly-men-without-make-up to ugly-men-with-make-up not in the venue’s intimate and inaccessible dressing room, but in their tour bus, the Murderdolls have, for the past 45 minutes, been saying “Excuse me” and “Could you pass the hairspray/lipstick” and getting dressed into stage clothes that have seen less washing powder than the Turin Shroud. It’s like playing Twister with Max Factor.

And it could be worse. Joey Jordison – five feet not very many inches tall, even in ridiculous stage boots – needs to ‘go to the toilet’, and he needs to do this in the ‘I’d leave that for 10 minutes if I were you’ sense of the term. Which is unfortunate, considering that ‘No solids shall be deposited in the tour bus toilet’ is appropriately Rule Number Two in the rock ‘n’ roll code of the road, second only to ‘Do not blow the bus driver’s brains out with a .45 Magnum as he’s hurtling down the motorway at 120 miles per hour’. For Jordison, looking quietly concerned, this is a problem. Think, think, think: what to do?

Joey Jordison decides to resolve his predicament by performing a bowel movement on the pavement, in the street.

You did read that correctly.

“Man, I just took a shit in the street,” he says, almost skipping with joy and pride.

Perhaps to celebrate such a commendable achievement, one of the Murderdolls – and, let’s be honest, aside from Joey Jordison, they all look the same – decides to smash a pint glass. The jar arcs through the air, hitting the cobbled floor with a smash that is, strangely, as satisfying as it is entirely redundant. Then another glass takes flight. Then another, then another. There isn’t much whooping and there isn’t much hollering, but there is plenty of debris.

We’re standing outside a pub, next door to the Fleece. The landlady leans out of the doorway.

“Could you stop that please?” she asks.

“Go back inside lady,” says vocalist Wednesday 13, winner of this week’s stupid name competition. “Go back inside and no-one will get hurt.”

Five minutes ago Wednesday was giving serious consideration to urinating on a Puddle Of Mudd fly poster. He decided not to because the band, as people, are “cool”.

The Murderdolls are now walking toward the stage door.

“Hey, you know about American football right?” asks Eric Griffin, the bass player. Eric has missed a part of the tour after his father died, but now he’s back. “Well in American football this is called a drop-kick.”

Eric throws a pint glass from his hand and tries to kick it. The glass spins from his boot and smashes six inches away.

He adds: “Although it’s not a very good drop-kick.”

Inside the venue, the crowd have heard the intro tape and are starting to cheer. Outside, the band are going inside.

Please welcome, from the United States of Stupidity, The Murderdolls.

The Murderdolls have a song called ‘I Like (sic) To Say Fuck’, which is just as well, because they say fuck all the time; they also have a song called ‘Let’s Fuck’ which is not just as well, if you’re the one in line, because they’re all as ugly as fuck.

Onstage at the Fleece, the band say the word so many times that if they were to keep a swearbox they could, at the end of the tour, purchase a country. So it’s, “Here’s a fucking song for you, Bristol,” and “Are you tired of hearing all the fucking shit on the radio, Bristol?”.

In case, heaven forbid, you get bored of the word “fuck”, The Murderdolls do spice it up and throw it around with the odd “motherfucker” as well. They’re inventive like that.

They’re also, on a night like this, at the very core of their element. When the album, ‘Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls’, is boiled down and fried up in a hateful hall before 500 loving people, you’re seeing this band as they were intended to be seen. It’s here that you can view the parts of the Murderdolls that are A Good Thing, such as the schlock-punk shtick that recalls bands such as the Misfits and the Necros. This is also the place to see the parts of the Murderdolls that are A Bad Thing, such as them revisiting the era of hairspray and shiny guitars that epitomised the glam-metal years.

The Murderdolls will try to guess a woman’s cup size by feeling her breasts. It’s worth asking: what is the point of the Murderdolls?

“Just to have some fun,” says Joey Jordison. The guitarist – for this group at least – sits in the upstairs lounge of his band’s tour bus. Adjacent to him is Wednesday. Before the tape recorder is switched on, a request is made that the whole band are questioned, but Joey, quietly, won’t allow it. Make of this what you will.

“I get all my angry shit out with Slipknot, so this is something else that I can do. And I have fun doing it. We may not be the most serious band in the world, but that doesn’t really matter. That doesn’t mean that this can’t mean something to me just the same.”

For a band that aren’t serious, by the way, Joey Jordison chose to meet this question in serious tones, and with some immediacy – ready with an answer, almost leaping in with his response.

Would you like your audience to be serious about liking you?

“Yeah, I suppose I would.”

Joey Jordison didn’t actually make an appearance today until 8pm, fearing that he’d contracted a fever after standing in the cole – straight after his band’s set – in Manchester for three hours signing CDs and body parts for his fans. Later in Bristol it would seem that this is no more than a chill, but his earlier absence means that his bandmates have to endure the mind-shrivelling tedium that is the afternoon before a show without him.

Wednesday and guitarist Acey Slade are upstairs in the Fleece’s dressing room, talking small and killing time. Wednesday is attempting to fit brown plastic holsters to his trousers, in which he can hold the blue plastic pistols that will spurt water into the crowd later tonight. Slade – the funniest and most impressive member of the band – is looking through photographs taken in Germany. He says the word “cool” a lot. Wednesday has a bastardised image of Colonel Sanders on the back of his jacket. Kentucky Fried Chicken is his favourite food, he says, with the humorous delivery of a serious sentiment. Although if he lived in England he would open a chain of fast food franchises called Kentucky Fried Fish And Chips.

Wednesday is from Louisiana (sic). Acey is from Pennsylvania.

But you’re based in Los Angeles, right?

“Fuck no,” says Wednesday.

I thought that’s where you all lived.

“We don’t really have a base,” says Slade.

Is that because you’re not a proper band?

“Fuck you,” says Wednesday.

The Murderdolls take this well. The Murderdolls, fittingly, know how to smile.

This is Joey Jordison’s band. He laughs and jokes along throughout the evening – and his humour and tolerance of a piss-taking journalist is more impressive than many – but, in subtle moments, his demeanour betrays a seriousness and focus that is hardly disguised. He is acutely aware of how he wishes to be portrayed although, strangely, he appears more concerned with visuals than words. He applies his make-up on three separate occasions for the photographs that partner this piece. The last time he has to do this, at 1am, he doesn’t appear overly thrilled. He has a quiet word with Roxy Erickson about what she can and can’t shoot (admirably, she opts not to fall in with the conspiracy).

In conversation, conversely, Jordison is almost slanderously unguarded. He wants to make it clear than our own Josh Sindell, in his review of the Murderdolls’ set at the Whisky A Go-Go, was wrong to say that Kerry King left early out of disdain, but rather had to leave for LAX airport. Then he says that while the other eight members of Slipknot were furious with K! Dep Ed Jason Arnopp for the things he wrote in his Slipknot book, this was only because they knew that what he wrote was “true”. He’ll also tell you about how he fucked-up his voice by mixing two different batches of cocaine together earlier in the tour. And how, on the road with Slipknot in America, he walked in to the Clown’s dressing room and emptied his bowels right into the rubbish bin. Right there in the room.

Why on Earth did you do that?

“Because he was fucking with me.”

Is there tension in Slipknot?

“No.”

But then he’ll say this. And he’ll say it with some joy and no disguise.

“We had more people at our gig (in Los Angeles) than Stone Sour did.”

Yeah, but Stone Sour are selling more records in America than you are.

Joey Jordison nods his head and curls his mouth into the thinnest, and cruellest, of smiles. Quietly he says, “At the moment”.

Are you sure there’s no tension in Slipknot?

“Yes.”

In the pub next door to the Fleece, there is something approaching mutiny. It’s 11:50pm, and the Murderdolls left the stage a quarter of an hour ago. Four men in their 40s are arguing about the merits – or otherwise – of the band. They all went to the show, but only half of them enjoyed it. You’ve got to move with the times, say the defenders. They weren’t even playing their instruments, say the detractors.

Listening to this is the landlord. He manages to be friendly despite glowing incandescent with fury. It was his glasses that were smashed by the band, and it was his wife who Wednesday instructed to go back inside so that “nobody would get hurt”.

The landlord also thinks the Murderdolls are the worst band ever to have performed next door. So furious he was with the incident, he confronted the Murderdolls’ tour manager and, threatening to summon the law, elicited an apology and £50 in compensation without hesitation or complaint.

Rock ‘n’ roll.

Just round the corner, the Murderdolls are milling in the street, signing autographs for the 200 people who have braved the chill and missed the last bus to talk to them. They will stay there for two hours. Then they will board the bus and, knowing nothing of the furore left behind them, sleep in their bunks and wake in another town. And there the Murderdolls will emerge to laugh and bullshit their way through another day.

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

Chat writes the plot! Time for more 👑🐲🐟 KotD!

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~King of the Dragonfish: Chapter 13 (NSFW!)~

It is the shivering that wakes him. Such a small sound, cloth scratching against the stone floor, rasping against itself... and yet something about the tremor niggles at the predator in the back of his mind-

Maul chuckles as he wakes the rest of the way, stretching languidly. There is no back or part to the predator in him. He is all predator, a king of the dragonfish.

Luminous yellow-green eyes land on the source of the shivering, finding a chilled jedi having moved away from the heat of the deformed magma ball the sith had generously provided for warmth.

Fool.

He rises from the floor and sways that way, curving over Kenobi like a vulture, leaning down until he is inches from the man's face. The jedi's whiskers vibrate from his tiny shudders, a lock of his hair wavering as the root of it moves. Maul touches it, eyelids drooping at the softness.

Such a soft, fragile jedi. With little bits of glowing moss still caught in the strands of him.

Maul flutters his claws in the air out, then curls them in, and lifts. His force signature wraps around his prisoner, and raises the man a scant few inches. The sith pushes, and returns Kenobi to the warmth he needs.

As soon as the near-human feels the heat he rolls toward it and settles down. Maul smirks, pleased with his success, and curls up nearby to think.

His thoughts wander, from recalling the strange mood he had been in last night, to pondering how better to jail his captive. The sith is so entrenched in plotting and mulling that he misses it entirely when the useless jedi escapes the dwindling radiance zone of the magma yet again.

Maul doesn't notice until the shivering returns. He hears it start up, and huffs.

“Kenobi~,” he calls, propelling himself closer and calling to the man. The jedi's eyes move under their lids. He is dreaming, far and away, mind disconnected from body. Enough to leave comfort behind, but not so separate that he remains motionless in a safer place.

Ridiculous.

Once again Maul returns his jedi to the place he is meant to be, but this time he pools himself on and around the man. Kenobi sighs in his sleep, melting submissively under the weight of his tail. The sith preens, pleased by this.

He returns to plotting, sometimes idly touching the soft hair of the man's face. Maul finds himself compelled to reach down and pull the jedi's tunics aside, to touch the hair that he knows spreads down his chest… but it seems… Mnh… he will simply wait until Kenobi is awake, and contrive a way to steal his clothing then.

There is no point to clothes down here anyway. They only kept cold, wet things in a state of cold and wet, and that was not what the other man needed to remain hale.

The jedi master shifts in his sleep, like he's trying to move away again, but Maul keeps him pinned. He is allowed to roll in place, but that is all.

All of the sudden Kenobi turns into him, throwing a leg over his hip and snaking an arm around Maul's neck. The sith blinks down at the change. Pale fingers spread out across his chest, smoothing over the nightbrother marks on his right pec.

“Kenobi?” he asks, uncertain. Is he still asleep?

The jedi noses in close, and startles him with a bite on the chin. Maul grabs onto his shoulders, hissing, nipping at his face in return. The other man makes a huff, like the faintest laugh, and bites him again, but it is decently less startling this time, and significantly more... intriguing.

Soft flat teeth get ahold of his chin, bite and pull on the skin, just enough to sting.

Maul's eyes widen. His lips part.

His jaw is released, the trace of pain replaced by a warm tongue.

“Ah,” he says, a bit dazed as fingers start playing gently over the delicate skin of his gills.

This… this is… different. It feels…

Maul reaches for the jedi, tail shifting with pleasant agitation. Hips rock into his, and he moves with them, then presses back. The jedi begins kissing him, down his neck, down his chest. The rocking continues, and the sith notices for the very first time just how the fusion of his new and old forms had resolved the quandary of his cock. He had a length, like a man, that fell from a sheath in his hips, already slick and full.

Maul realizes he is neither like a zabrak nor a dragonfish. He is his own recreation, remade through the darkside into something more.

He laughs, dark and low and oh so pleased, reveling in the jedi grinding himself needfully on Maul's scales. Begging for him with his body.

They roll and Kenobi ends up on top, kissing his skin, mouthing at the tender spots on his chest. Kissing, and kissing, and the sith roils underneath him. Teeth nip and tug at his nipples, creating a sharp pain-pleasure that he hasn't known before.

He holds Kenobi to him, moaning, inviting. Yes yes yes, this was so good. Keeping him, having him…

If he was a king, then perhaps he needed a queen.

Could he remake Kenobi as he had been? Would his tail be pale as his skin, or would the natural tones of a dragonfish paint him black? Would his spots be red? Or ginger like his hair? Blue like his eyes?

Oh. He would be so beautiful.

Those same blue eyes open above him, soft and hazy. Lips run red from their use, pulse quick in his throat. Maul pants, staring up at his jedi with a rising need that ravaged his sanity in it's own wild, freeing way.

They stare at each other, both men struck by their own moment of epiphany.

“Kenobi…” he says, licking his bottom lip, trying to figure out how to ask for more.

More of all of that. He wants to fit them together and-

The jedi yelps, scrambling off and away from him until his back is to the wall.

No! Distance? That would not serve.

“I apologize!” the man swears.

For what, he wonders? This was right.

His eyes drift downward to the jutting proof of it.

The jedi's gaze follows his, widens, and then the man hides from him.

Kenobi clears his throat, face flushed as he presses back into the stone. “That was completely inappropriate, I do apologize. I'm not sure what happened, I was having… ah, pleasant dreams, and then… did you come near me in the night?”

Maul rises on the coils of his tail, and stalks towards his future queen. “I did. You had rolled away from your lava, so I put you back and pinned you down.”

Kenobi retreats as he approaches. Afraid. Yes, the jedi fears what is to come. He does not yet understand that it is good.

It will be so good.

The jedi's hands pat along the floor as he shuffles away.

“Thank you for your consideration then, so sorry for the trouble. Shall we go back to bed? Separately! I mean. You… over there. Me, over here,” the other man rambles, quailing even while he stares at the shine of slickness on Maul's cock. Those blue eyes are riveted to it, his body flushing with need.

He will take such care of his jedi.

Kenobi licks his lips, skittering further away. “Maul…”

The sith smiles, exultant.

“Maul,” the jedi says again, “I just want you to know…”

“Yessss?” he croons, coming ever forward, intractable.

���...that this is not an escape attempt, I am merely in dire need of a bath. Immediately.”

He has no idea what those words mean, until the jedi is dumping himself into the water, giving himself wholesale to the ocean.

The sith laughs wildly, and dives in after. The bubbles clear to reveal Kenobi floating there, treading water with his head and shoulders above the water line. Maul slides through the sea like a knife, under and around, coming up in front of the other man and winding their limbs together again.

“Jediiiii,” he purrs, then steals a proper kiss, mouth to mouth with a thrusting tongue.

Kenobi makes a high pitched whine. It only grows louder when the sith presses close, his tail flowing off between the other man's thighs. They rock, frotting their hips together.

“Mnnnhhh!” one or both of them cry out at the friction.

Maul pulls away to nip at the jedi's chin. “Remove these robes, jedi mine, let me have you. Forgive me my promise not to bite at your neck, and I will suckle marks into your skin, beautiful blooming bruises to complement your lovely eyes.”

“Oh ye gods,” the man whispers dizzily, gripping his shoulders.

“It will so good,” he entices.

Kenobi curls inward, hiding his face in Maul’s neck and stilling the motion of their hips by clenching his legs and core.

“Maul,” he says, like a gasp for air. “No, we… we can't. I can't.”

The dragonfish sith growls softly. No? Why.

“Maul I'm your prisoner, we can't,” the jedi tries to explain, but it doesn't make any sense.

“You want me,” he accuses, frustrated.

Kenobi shudders like the truth is too much to bear.

Maul noses into the side of his neck, and tries to bring him back from this foolishness with kisses. Soft and sweet, as tempting as he can make them.

The jedi's head tilts, just a hair, permission for this much, at least.

Careful of thin hide under his many excellent teeth, the dragonfish sith nibbles his way down the other man's body. He paints the flowers he'd promised into the pale skin beneath the jedi's ear. Gentle, then soothing the ruptures with his tongue.

He slides from neck to chest, biting over the cloth on his way down to stomach, nuzzling the jedi's core where's it's relaxed from his prior tension. Maul finds the jut of him, trapped beneath his pants, and mouths at it under the water. Kenobi's thighs quiver, calves flexing. His fingers dig into Maul's shoulders.

He can taste precum through the cloth as he sucks.

Suddenly the target of his fixation is gone, the body under his hands is further away. The jedi is gone back to the shore, climbing up into the air. Maul scowls and surfaces, only his eyes and horns above the water line as he watches Kenobi retreat.

Sopping wet, the man flops onto his back, chest heaving as he looks over. He remains erect, even still. “You... are a very hard man to say no to.”

The sith swims closer. “And yet,” he snaps through clenched teeth.

to be continued...

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