#And like. It would just keep going because again I just. Can't stop with this. I know I wouldn't be able to.

[salemrph]

Sleepy morning with Sylus

A/N: While I was reading some other posts yesterday, I came across a user asking what it would be like to wake up next to Sylus. My imagination jumped on it right away! I would say this is more of a headcanon than a fanfic. I focused more how he would experience it. Short write, just because I'm working on other stuff.

Character: Sylus & Reader/MC/you

Genre: romantic, fluffy

Word count: 1,430 | Reading Time: 5 min

Background music

Your laughter echoes through his bedroom as you try to break free from his grip, his breath tickling your skin. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, pressing himself against your naked body. You smell incredible, so intoxicatingly good that waking up next to you must be heaven on earth.

You squirm and kick, already in tears from laughing so hard. He can't get enough of that sound, of the way you smile, the way you close your eyes and lean your head back. Your presence is like a flowerbed in full bloom, vibrant and breathtaking. Blooming in its full splendor.

Whenever he can, he admires you. When you sleep, he counts the moles on your body, tracing them with his fingertips. He caresses the scars you've earned as a fierce Hunter, kissing every natural fold of your skin. His touch follows the curve of your back, the delicate shape of your ass, down to your legs. The same legs that always wrap around him in the intensity of passion.

He loves you, more than he could ever show to you. It wouldn't be enough, ever.

"Sylus—"  you gasp between laughs, struggling against him as your muscles start to cramp.

"You have so much energy, kitten" you keep laughing, you are so ticklish this morning. His nose brushes against your neck before he nips at your skin, placing lazy kisses along your shoulder.

You squirm even more, still breathless from laughter. "I will pee myself... Stop!"

He hums against your skin, only tightening his hold. He isn't really awake, he wants to keep sleeping, enjoying the peaceful morning with you. Sylus has worked hard to clear his schedule, to be with you like this. To adapt to your routine, make breakfast, and simply enjoy a normal day at your side.

"Then pee..."  he teases. 

"Gross! Let go." You protest, thoroughly disgusted by his suggestion.

"Not even in dreams, sweetie" he chuckles while still kissing your shoulder.

"Sy..." you whine. That tone, the way you try to get your way putting that face, that tone in your voice. The one that makes his heart melt no matter how much he tries to resist. He growls, reluctant to release you completely. His grip tightening for a moment before he finally exhales and relaxes.

"Go. You have 2 minutes to come back". 

You waste no time jumping out of bed, only to earn a slap on your ass.

"Hey!" You spin around, shooting him a glare. Sylus only smirks.

"I like how it wiggles"

You disappear in the bathroom. Sylus shifts onto his back, crossing both arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a rare sense of peace. Yeah… he could get used to this. No, he wants to get used to this. The wealth he possesses and everything he has done has been nothing more than a way to ensure your safety. The years he spent searching for you taught him that he had to be prepared for anything. Losing you again was not in his plans. And if the day ever comes when you no longer love him, it won’t change a thing. He would still protect you, even from the shadows.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice you sneaking back into bed. Carefully, you inch closer, suppressing a grin as you reach out to poke his cheek. But before you can even make contact, his hand shoots out, catching your wrist in a firm grip.

"Feeling playful this morning, my love?"

"Just a bit" you smirk. Sylus laughed.

"What do you want to play?" You tilt your head, pausing deliberately as your eyes drift over his bare chest, trailing down to his toned abs. The sheets rest low on his hips, and the way you’re looking at him doesn’t go unnoticed. He knows that look.

With effortless ease, he shifts, pulling you toward him until you land on top of his body.

His fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering. The color of your lips is already beautiful, but he loves it even more when they darken after passionate kisses. His lips part slightly, his gaze locked onto yours, mesmerized by the infinite depth of your shining eyes.

You lean in, pressing tender kisses across his face before finally finding his lips. Your entire body relaxes, melting into him. Savoring the slow movement of your mouth. Heat growing in your body. Between you two. The kiss deepens bit by bit, his tongue tracing your lips, later moving beyond, slipping inside, tasting you. You sigh into him, already lost in the spreading feelings of longing.

His hand has already trapped you. One sitting on your back, the other on your ass, keeping you close. He is getting harder by the second. His need for you is growing. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips grounding you in the moment. There is no rush, no urgency. You have the complete morning and day to melt in each other.

When he finally pulls away, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath is warm against your lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he exhales deeply. This is a dream, he thinks. A damn good dream. And he has no intention of waking up.

One hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin. He doesn’t need to speak; everything he feels is in the way he looks at you, in the way he holds you like you’re something precious. You cover his hand with yours, pressing your cheek into his palm. A faint smile tugs at his lips before he kisses you again.

Sylus takes his time, enjoying how your body reacts to him, the quiet gasps, the way your fingers tangle in his hair. His name escapes your lips in a breathless whisper. He watches you with a quiet intensity, taking in the way you melt under his touch. The space between you disappears, lost in the unhurried way he moves. Once more, your worlds merge, your bodies speaking a language only the two of you understand.

That's how you start the morning: with him, with you, with nothing beyond these four walls mattering. Just the warmth of his skin, the rhythm of your hearts, and the love that neither of you needs to put into words.

[zanarkandss]

the perks of having a teleslate

phainon/reader: 656 words; established relationship; mentions of rough sex; phainon is whipped but also very down to ruin you; gn reader; nsfw (minors dni)

part of the reason i wrote this was bc i kept making jokes about how the hell they were gonna deal w phones in ancient greece. well turns out they did and also gave a guy a gun. so what do i know.

Phainon’s wallpaper is you. You’re pretty sure he had you as his teleslate screen before you got together - ‘It’s what best friends do!’ he’d told you, grin plastered on his face. He even rotates the image out on a weekly basis, wanting to make sure he captures every moment of your life. 

It’s a sweet sentiment, really. You’re just…slightly concerned for his storage space. Surely it’s getting full by now? You’ll ask to go through his phone and he’ll hand you his teleslate no questions asked, and you can’t help but put your head in your hands at how many photos he’s got of you. Some of these, you have no idea when he’s managed to take them, or how he’s managed to convince your friends to send him photos of you when you’re not with him.

(‘What did you bribe them with?’ 

‘Who?’ You glare at him. ‘Ahem. Aglaea gets to go through my wardrobe and sort through it. She said she’d keep what you bought me, though, and said it was a blessing you had—‘ 

‘No more, please. I can't fault her for that.’)

Oh, and Titan’s forbid you try to delete any. He’d swiftly pull the device up and away out of reach, using his height against you. Only when you provide him with the number of kisses he wants (a lot) will he let you go through them again. If you want to delete them, he’ll allow you, though, not without going on about what the photo means to him. Losing to him is an inevitability; you end up way too flustered to let him continue to harp on about how much he loved you in this single moment. That he can do that for each of the photos he has is…a bit too much for your heart.

Well, at least he has the other ones of you hidden. They’re behind another app, something benign that no one would go on. And even then there’s a passcode. He’d whined about wanting to get some photos of the two of you having sex so that he could have something to use while he was away from you. 

You found it hard to say no. After all, he’s so earnest, and a hero to boot. Who else could reward him with something like this? 

Now, whenever he feels it right, he’ll take a photo. Maybe a quick video too, if he’s daring, though he’d much rather tend to you. These photos you don’t really realise he takes at that moment. You tend to be too fucked out, malleable to his whims as he grips your cheeks with one hand to get you to look into the camera, eyes bleary and body covered with bites. There are others as well. Some, where your face is pressed into the pillows and he pushes you down so hard you can see the veins in his arms. Others, where he’s got you laying on his chest, too tired to sit up to ride him properly, make-up streaked down your face. They’re always followed up with pictures where he’ll be stroking your hair, gentle, placating, as if he didn’t put you in this situation in the first place. 

Not that you’ve got room to complain. He tends to you well. Maybe you’re more annoyed at the fact he calls it ‘making love’ like some young pining maiden instead of a man who can fold you in half and ruin you until morning comes, only stopping because he has duties to attend to instead of being left drained of all energy.  

Still, you love him. And he loves you too. You’re the only one he’d ever dream of being with like this, the one he wants to see the future of Amphoreus with. And if anything comes between him and that dream? Well, he’s enough strength to protect your honour. He is not a Chrysos Heir for nothing, after all.

© 2025 zanarkandss; do not plagirise, translate, or repost my works elsewhere.

[nakylvr]

teasing megan about how she doesn't have a mean bone in her body and that there's no way she can be dominant with reader until ur both alone then she shows how rough she can be how she is not a pillow princess (her words and this is her first time being dominant and has no idea what's she's doing but something takes over her)

dom!megan truthers rise ✊ happy birthday to my queen

7TH SENSE

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, dom!megan, sub!reader, fingering (r receiving), orgasm denial, begging

minors dni

teasing your girlfriend was fun. mainly about how she didn't have a single mean bone in her body even if she tried to be mean, or that she could never even get near being the dominant one when it came to being alone. but, today you pushed your luck a little too far.

you two were at a friend's party, and maybe it was the environment that had started up your teasing towards megan, and maybe it was why she responded the way she did. the longer the night went on, the more you continued to tease her. you were never mean about it, but it was enough to tick her off slowly but surely. eventually, after one last comment, she snapped.

"megan, what are you-" you try to say as you get dragged by your girlfriend throughout the house, but the look she shoots at you has you quickly shutting up. she pulls you into an empty bathroom, closing and shutting the door, pressing your back up against the sink. "megan-" you try again, but before you can get anything else out of your mouth, megan kisses you with such force you can't help the little noise that comes from you at the action.

megan grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter and standing between your legs, your back almost pressing against the mirror at her pushing against you. she bites down on your lip, a quiet gasp coming from you which she takes advantage of to slide her tongue inside your mouth. your hands grasp her shirt, bundling the material in your hands as her tongue explores your mouth. her hands rest on your thighs, one of them slowly getting closer to the waistband of your shorts. her hand dips into your shorts, her fingers feeling the wet spot on your panties and pushing the material to the side. she quickly finds your clit and slowly starts rubbing circles as you finally part from the kiss to let out a quiet moan. within a few seconds, she pushes a finger in you, with a look on her face that has you getting wetter than you already were.

"f-fuck!" you gasp as she starts a rough, fast, pace of thrusting her finger in you. "megan, s-slow down,"

"oh, shut up," megan replies in a low tone. "you're the one who was just trying to irritate the shit out of me, don't try to say you weren't," she says as she pushes a second finger in. "i'm not a fucking pillow princess," she grumbles in an angry voice. "you just had to go on the whole goddamn night."

"i-i didn't–" you're cut off by a loud moan escaping your lips when she slips a second finger inside you. your hand grabs her wrist tightly, your nails digging into her skin as she thrusts her fingers in and out of you at a pace you could barely keep up with. to say you were surprised would be an understatement, considering you had rarely seen this side of her before. it had happened once, but that was a while ago, and it was for barely a minute, so honestly you didn't think it would happen again. "fuck...please, please don't stop."

"didn't what?" megan taunts. "didn't try to piss me off? look at you now, you're begging me to fuck you." she curls her fingers experimentally, a smile forming on her face at the whine you let out, making her do it again. "you like that? huh? answer me."

"yes!" you nod quickly, your eyes squeezing shut at her gaze on you falling apart because of her. "i love it, i love it so much– oh my god!–" you gasp, your hips moving trying to meet her fingers thrusts, feeling the knot in your stomach tightening.

"you're so tight around my fingers, baby." she leans closer to you, starting to suck and bite on your exposed neck, leaving dark marks that will bruise and remain for the next few days. "are you close? you wanna cum, baby?"

"please! yes, yes, please!" you cry out, not even caring about the possibility that anyone could hear you from outside the door. "please, i'm so close! please let me cum, please, i promise i'll be good, please."

leaving another bite on your neck, megan feels your walls clench around her fingers, and she knows you're close. pulling away from your neck, she grabs your cheeks with her free hand to make you look at her, stopping her fingers movements which make you whine at the feeling. she slowly removes them from you, causing your eyes to open when she holds them near your mouth.

"baby, please don't leave me like this," you whine, hoping it'll convince her. it doesn't faze her, her fingers covered in your slick still in front of your mouth waiting for you to suck on. with a whimper, you open your mouth letting her push her fingers in, sucking them clean.

when she thinks it's enough, megan pulls her fingers out of your mouth, looking at you with a small smirk. "you're gonna have to wait until we get home if you want to cum after what you pulled, that's if you're lucky. understand?" she tells you.

"yes," you whimper with a nod.

"good," she smiles at you, pushing your panties back to their normal position and fixing your skirt. "let's go back."

[sweetpupii]

cw: dub-con,　fingering,　sev’s mechanic arm vibrates,　 degradation,　 hair pulling, 　 overstimulation,　 cunnilingus (r!giving), no aftercare at all. | 2,3k words, barely proofread I'm sorry.

　coming back to the last drop after a rough deal, five in the goddamn morning, wiping blood that isn't hers off her clothes, a nasty cut on her cheek, thick eyebrows positioned into a nasty frown, a bottle of strong liquor she took from the counter ( even if the bar was open, the bartender would have not stopped her ) on her metallic hand as she went upstairs into silco's office, knocking heavily on the door, ready to speak about how jinx—living up to her name—almost turned the guy who's the usual contact for shimmer distribution into bones and ashes for whatever reason when she wasn't even supposed to be there, is definitely the worst part of sevika's job.

little shit, always getting on her nerves. sevika just wants to smack some sense into that fucked up brain but silco's the only thing that keeps her from doing so.

and of course she had to clean after the bluenette.

after all, you can't attack a trafficker without consequences. an eye for an eye turned quite literal when the man's eye popped because one of the window crystals from jinx's explosion flew right onto it and his men tried to jump at sevika. ‘bit stupid if you ask me…yes, their boss almost died and all but did they really think they could take this woman down with a few weak punches? they lack common sense, apparently.

now the drug dealer has one eye and five men nearly dead.

oh, great, just what she needed—silco is not even in his office. she wants to break something and rip her hair out.

“sevika? didn't see you coming in.” right, sometimes she forgets you come clean the mess the people at the bar make. taking care of the alcohol, the drugs, the shattered glasses, the unknown fluids, etc, that can be found on every corner just so they can do it all again the next day. cleaning up jinx's mess seems like nothing compared to your job. “everyone left already.”

she looks up from the couch to the door where you are standing with a surprisingly warm smile for someone who's working so early in the morning—god knows when your shift even started.

“silco also left like an hour ago, I was hoping I could secretly clean his office because it smells a little… funky.” you laughed gesturing to the mop on your hand before walking into the room, turning your back at sevika while picking up some bright neon, spray painted decoration from the floor to put it on his desk again. focused on getting the job done since she didn't seem in the mood to talk. ( rude but makes sense. )

how is the poor, pent up woman supposed to resist that heaven-sent view?

hand suddenly on your waist as she took one final swing of the strong liquor, pulling you closer even if you gasped and automatically tried to pull away. when did she even get up from the couch? “stay still.” she warned putting the bottle down on his desk to hold your hips more firmly against her front.

“I probably should go clean somewhere—” she could only scoff at your nervous words. yeah, like she'd want you to leave right now when all she needs is someone to pour her stress onto.

“shut up, what did I just say? stay still.”

this woman is one rough motherfucker and that applies to every aspect of her life, as you can tell by how tightly she's gripping at your hips as she moves you to bend over silco's desk. her calloused hand swiping away most of his stuff away, making sure your torso is flush against the wooden—and still dusty—surface, her fingers tangle themselves on your hair to keep your head down.

your legs go just a little weak. but hey, it's just you being tired from cleaning for hours now!

…or maybe it's the wall of pure muscle behind you sliding her mechanic hand under your pants, tracing your panties while she keeps talking.

“been a long fucking night.” her face buried itself on your neck, not even kissing the skin before nibbling on it. why would she? she doesn't owe you any gentleness. her body weight pressing you forward—the action making sure you can feel the cool metal of her fingers. the sharp tips lightly scratching the fabric of your underwear in a way that shouldn't feel this good, especially in the current circumstances but oh, well.

“are you stupid or deaf?” she pulled on your hair a little before pushing your head back down on the desk when she felt your hips moving away from her as soon as her arm made a loud mechanical sound, the rather strong vibration coming right after making you shudder.

you didn't mean to move like that, lifting your hips away from her, but you couldn't help it! the vibration was so out of nowhere it startled you. who's fault is that, hm? definitely sevika's. but I wouldn't say that out loud if I were you—you know, keeping in mind there's still blood that isn't hers on her clothes and body. just saying.

“hey, wait—”

your protests meaning nothing to her as she tugged ( ripped ) your pants and underwear down. “look at that, you whine but you're getting wet?” the most mocking scoff ever coming out of her lips while she pressed her vibrating fingers even more firmly on your now bare clit.

“it's not that much, you're just weak. get over it.”

she's right, it does feel like you're getting weaker by the second. the feeling getting more overwhelming as she gets meaner. “never thought of quitting? cleaning is definitely not your job, the brothel would work way better.” she's infuriatingly good at talking though, it's annoying.

“i mean, look at you. I'm sure people would pay more to see this ass than what silco does for you to clean his shit.” she squeezed one cheek to emphasize her own point, giving a slap to watch it jiggle, her lower lip caught with her teeth at the sight. she could get used to it, actually.

“there we go, see? wasn't so hard to keep quiet.” her fingers are no longer cold, now sticky and warm from your body heat—body heat she proudly increased by the way—while her hand starts to move back and forth to cause more sensations, moans and trembles.

you feel like it's too much? oh, baby, she hasn't done anything yet!

you realize she's actually doing something when you notice her sliding two thick fingers—lucky for you, real ones instead of the sharp prosthetics—stretching you out without a single warning as the vibration on your clit does not cease at all.

the wet sounds combined with the slap of skin and buzzing coming from in between your legs absolutely obscene in a way that's fucking humiliating. god, you shouldn't be this horny for a woman that treats you like a hooker she found in an alley but it would be a terrible lie if you said it didn't make your lower belly burn and tingle in a way you've felt before, but definitely not with that intensity.

her scent—blood, sweat, and that funky, smoky tang that always clings to her—feels pretty intoxicating, to the point it's impossible to think straight.

you bit your lip, frustrated at the way your own body seems to betray you with the moans you fail to hold back. no amount of deep breaths able to help you. the mixture of pleasure and pain seems to blur together, forcing an embarrassingly whiny whimper to escape before you can even stop it.

“what's wrong?” sevika murmurs with a mocking chuckle, her fingers curling just right, pressing against your g-spot as if she knew your body better than you and honestly with the amount of experience she has, she might as well. “guess you like being treated like a common whore, huh, is that it?”

heat goes straight to your cheeks and down yourq back at her words, and yet again your body completely ignores your internal struggles, hips rocking against her hand despite your best efforts to stay still. she noticed, of course she did, using that to give a punishing thrust that suddenly feels way too deep.

“yeah, that's what I thought,” she scoffed, voice dripping with disdain, but her movements became more purposeful. her metallic fingers pressed firmly against your clit with no mercy, the vibrations and the movements had you clutching at the edge of the desk.

“look at you,” sevika muttered, more to herself than you, as if fascinated by the way your body responds to her rough thrusts. “maybe I'll keep you here, bent over silco's desk, let him walk in and see what a filthy slut you are.”

the thought sent a jolt of humiliation and twisted excitement through you, and sevika definitely feels it, her lips turn into the most asshol-smirk you've ever seen ( if you were able to ), and she speeds up, the wet, obscene sounds of her fingers working you echoing in the small office.

"go on," she said, "are you gonna keep pretending you don't like it?"

sevika doesn't even think about slowing down as she felt the way your walls squeezed her tight enough to earn a small groan from her—your moans being her motivation to keep going through your orgasm—drawing every last tremor from your body until you're left breathless and boneless, slumped over the desk.

she finally pulled out after god knows how long, her fingers sticky and wet from your fluids. sevika raised them to her lips, absolutely shameless, eyes locked on yours as she licked the digits clean with a deliberate, slow drag of her tongue, enjoying the dazed expression on your pretty face while you panted.

“come on, to the floor.” oh, lord, she's still going?

she sat on the couch, pants lowered to her ankles before you could even register her words. shaky legs doing the best they can when you kneeled down in between her thighs. so tired that taking a nap on ‘em seems like the best idea ever, but you can't do that now—not when she's already manspread there, waiting with a cigar on her lips ( probably stole it from silco's desk or something, everything’s happening way to quick for your brain to comprehend ) while casually lighting it up like she didn't just rearrange your guts with her fingers.

free hand wrapping around your hair again, this time guiding your face to her lower abdomen, soft lips pressed on the happy trail that decorated her sweaty skin in a way that now felt sinfully good. “open.”

how could you say no when she's looking down at you like that, making you eat her out as she exhales the heavy smoke?

a low groan, almost imperceptible to your ears covered by her thighs, comes out of her when she finally feels your mouth trail down and down and down, her legs spreading further so you can taste her better.

the scent of her mixed with the smell of cigar was all you could notice. her grip on your hair tightens, not enough to truly hurt, but enough to remind you where you are. half naked, wet and sticky inner thighs, now a sticky mouth, kneeling down on some floor you were supposed to be cleaning while eating the pussy of a 185cm tall woman who disfigured a group of men a few hours ago.

almost in a trance, your lips part, tongue darting out to give her a tentative lick. the taste is overwhelming, consuming your senses until nearly all you can focus on is the feel of sevika,the taste of sevika, the scent of sevika. “that’s it, knew you were playing dumb.” huh, who would've thought you'd be doing this and liking it?

your tongue took another swipe at her dripping slit, this time lingering longer, trying to get deeper. a husky moan from her motivating you to keep going.

at the light twitch on her hips, you vary your technique—going from licking long stripes up and down to swirling your tongue around her already sensitive clit, before dragging it lower to spear into her weeping entrance. the sound of her breathing turns ragged as you lost yourself in the act of pleasing her, of tasting her, of being the cause of such raw feelings.

her hips start to move, grinding her achingly greedy cunt against your face, you grabbed at the tensing muscles on her thighs for support meanwhile she basically used your face like a toy for her own pleasure. not caring if you can breath or not. smearing your lips and chin with her own fluids just like you did with her hand. ( was it revenge? probably not since it's a win-win situation for sevika. )

lost in a haze of sensations, you barely register the heavy, strong hand pressing down on the back of your head, holding you in place—forcing you to feel every clench and twitch. the world narrows down to the taste of her, the scent of her, the feel of her, until you can barely recall why you ever resisted the idea of doing what she says.

oh?

oh.

she did not just come, make you lick all of it and then push you away. ( she absolutely just did, the motherfucker. )

“okay, that's it, enough.” the fucking audacity to get up, fix her pants and just leave you there, sat on the cold floor as if you were a simple stray dog who got its five minutes of petting from a stranger. “clean up the mess you made.”

“hold on—”

she just left without even listening?! great, now you're stuck having clean a messy desk, pick up the paperwork from the floor, your own panties and pants and having to get rid of the wet, creamy stain on silco's couch that apparently ‘you’ made as if it wasn't sevika's cum.

what a rollercoaster of a night.

masterlist

[insidekatmind]

You’re mine-Joao Felix

Request: yes!

It's a sunny day, and the two of you are sitting in the park, just like always, talking about everything and nothing. João looks at you with a smile that seems too sweet, too full of emotions he's no longer able to hide. You've known each other for years, but lately, there's a strange tension that you can't ignore. It's not like before, when everything seemed simple between you two. Now, every time you talk about your boyfriend, you notice a slight tinge of jealousy in his eyes.

"So, how is he?" João asks, his tone a little too cold to be casual. His eyes drop for a moment, then look back at you, fixed on you.

"Yeah, he's doing well. We made plans for tonight," you answer, trying to sound natural, but you immediately notice how João shifts in his spot, as if the idea of you spending time with someone else is burning him inside.

"It seems like things are going well, huh?" João says, but there's something in his voice that you can't quite decipher. His hand absently brushes the grass, and his gaze drifts off into the distance.

"We're getting along, yeah," you reply, trying to keep your tone neutral. But when you meet his eyes, there's something strange in them, a mix of affection and something that makes your chest tighten.

"Well," João starts, trying to downplay it, but his smile is tense, "you should be happy with him. You're a special person, Y/N. You deserve nothing less."

Your mind is confused. What is he trying to say? There's something João hasn't told you, something that now seems clear between the lines. In another moment, you would have ignored his tension, but today you can't. His voice sounds different, as if he's trying to mask his pain behind an apparent kindness.

"João, is something wrong?" you ask, trying to figure out what's behind his behavior. He smiles weakly, but his eyes don't lie.

"Nothing's wrong," he quickly responds, but his gaze betrays a truth he doesn't want to admit. The tension between you two grows, palpable, like a storm approaching.

"Are you sure?" you insist, feeling the need to understand. João pauses for a moment, then moves a little closer, as if he wants to say something, but then stops again, unsure.

"Y/N," he starts slowly, "I've always wanted the best for you, and I know you've found it with him. But..." he pauses, his breath shortening. "It hurts to see you with someone else. I don't know how to tell you, but... it's not easy for me."

The world around you seems to freeze as those words pierce your heart. You don't know how to respond, because something inside you, something you hadn't noticed before, has awakened. Your friendship with João has always been a constant, but now there are emotions that go beyond simple friendship.

You move closer to him and caress his cheek. João's gaze flutters for a split second, surprised by your affectionate gesture. The moment your fingers touch his cheek, his expression softens, and he closes his eyes, as if savoring the touch he's been craving. You can feel his skin under your fingertips, warm and inviting.

You hug him gently and lean against his chest. João's body tenses briefly, as if trying to resist, but he can't help but surrender. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, and you feel his body against yours, the warmth of his chest against your cheek. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling softly, as if trying to memorize your scent.

You sigh softly before speaking. "Why didn't you tell me before?" you whisper into his chest. João's hand slides from your back to your hair, running his fingers through it. He takes a long breath, holding you tight against him.

"I didn't want to ruin your happiness," he replies, his voice a soft murmur. "I watched you with him, and even though it hurt me, I saw how happy you were. I thought I could keep it inside, that it would pass. But it didn't."

You sigh softly and cling to him. “Yes but I am happier with you” you whisper softly. João's heart skips a beat upon hearing your words. His fingers pause for a moment, and his hold on you tightens slightly, as if he's afraid this moment will slip away. He pulls away slightly, just enough to look into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asks, searching your gaze. There's a vulnerability in his eyes, a mix of hope and fear. “Yes,” you whisper and lean closer to him, kissing the corner of his mouth.

João's breath catches in his throat at the feel of your lips on his skin. His fingers tense briefly on your waist before pulling you even closer. The desire he'd been trying to ignore suddenly flares up, and he can feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest."Y/N," he whispers your name like a prayer, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotions.

He closes his eyes for a moment, gathering whatever courage he has left. Every reason, every logical thought that told him to stay away from you, to respect your relationship, it all disappears like smoke in the wind.His hand cups your cheek, and his touch is gentle but firm, as if he needs this connection more than air. His eyes open, and the mixture of want and fear is there, plain as day."Do you know what you're doing to me?" he murmurs, his thumb brushing your skin.

Your eyes meet his, and the intensity in his gaze makes you shiver. You know you're stepping into uncharted territory, crossing a boundary that's been there for years. But at this moment, none of that matters. The only thing that matters is the feeling of João's touch, the sound of his breathing, the desire that's been building between you.You raise your hand, placing it over his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart. "Yes," you reply softly. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

João's breath catches in his throat as your hand on his chest makes his heart beat even faster. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. The way you look at him, the confidence in your eyes, it both enthralls and terrifies him.He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving yours. "You'll drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You smile, a sly, confident smile. "Maybe that's my plan."João groans softly, the sound low in his throat. The way you're teasing him, the way you're testing his self-control, it's both maddening and alluring.His hand slips from your waist, moving up to your face. He gently cups your chin with his fingers, tilting your head back slightly. "You're playing with fire, you know that?" he whispers, the heat in his gaze searing.

You tilt your head back, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "Maybe I don't mind getting burned."The words hang in the air, heavy with an implication that you both know all too well. The tension between you is palpable, a thin line you're both toeing dangerously.João's hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers playing with the soft hairs at your nape. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"You shouldn't say things like that," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "I'm already barely holding back as it is."His thumb continues its ministrations on your lip, tracing the shape of it, as if he can't help himself."You're a temptress, you know that?" he whispers, his gaze fixed on your mouth.

You smile and bring his finger into your mouth sucking on it. Joao's breath catches in his throat as you take his finger into your mouth, a low moan escaping his lips. The act is so intimate, so wanton, that he can feel himself coming undone.

"Y/N," he whispers harshly, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. "You're playing a dangerous game."His other hand tightens its grip on your waist, pulling you closer so you're practically on his lap.

You smirk around his finger, your tongue swirling around it in a way that has him groaning again. The sight of you like this, so confident and brazenly sexy, is driving him crazy. He's trying desperately to keep control, but every flick of your tongue, every subtle movement of your body is eroding his restraint.His hand on your waist slides down, gripping your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh. He pulls you even closer, his body pressed against yours, and the heat between you is palpable.

You release his finger with a soft pop, your gaze never leaving his. The smirk on your face is now a full-blown smile, one that borders on dangerous. You love seeing him like this - torn, vulnerable, wanting you so desperately."What if I want to play that game?" you whisper, your voice a sultry purr.Joao's eyes darken, the hunger in them a barely contained beast. He leans closer, his lips brushing your ear. "Careful," he warns, his words a hot breath on your skin. "You might get more than you bargained for."

Your heart pounds furiously in your chest, the threat in his tone only exciting you further. The thrill of defying him, of pushing his limits, is intoxicating.You lean in, your mouth against his jaw, your lips softly trailing kisses along his skin. "Maybe that's exactly what I want," you whisper back, your voice sultry and bold.Joao's grip on your hip tightens, his body tense with the effort to restrain himself. He tilts his head to the side, giving you better access to his neck, a silent permission for you to continue.

You take advantage of his surrender, kissing and nipping at his neck until a low groan escapes him. His fingers dig into your flesh, his breathing ragged and uncontrolled."You're driving me insane," he breathes, his voice strained with desire. "You're gonna be the death of me."Your hands slide up his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, the quick rhythm of his heart. Your mouth continues its assault on his neck, leaving a trail of kisses and little bites that make him shiver.

It's getting difficult for him to think, with your mouth on his skin, your body against his, teasing and torturing him in the most delicious ways. He grabs your jawline, forcing you to look at him."Enough," he growls, his eyes dark with a mixture of arousal and command. "I can't take this anymore."He stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him, his grip on your arm firm but not harsh. He's lost all patience, and he needs you now.

You smile and kiss him. Joao doesn't waste a heartbeat. As soon as your lips meet, he kisses you back with a fierce intensity. There's a hunger there, an almost desperate need, as if he's been waiting for this moment.His hands grip your hips, pulling you tightly against him. His body molds to yours, as if every contour, ever curve was made for him. The kiss is deep, possessive, as if he's marking you as his own.

You respond to his passion with your own, your body arching into his. Your hands grip the front of his shirt, holding on as if your life depended on it. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his muscles tense under your touch.The kiss is primal, a raw display of desire that neither of you can control. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back as his mouth moves from your lips to your jaw, your neck, down to your collarbone. Every touch of his lips against your skin feels like fire. His hands are everywhere, roaming your body, pulling you closer, demanding more. You can feel his possessive need in the way he touches you, the way he commands your body with his.Joao pushes you back against a tree, his body trapping you in, his hips pressing against yours. His mouth returns to your throat, his tongue trailing a heated path along your skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake.

Your fingers clutch the bark of the tree, desperately searching for something to hold onto, as your body responds to every touch, every kiss from Joao. His hands are under your shirt now, roaming over your bare skin, his touch leaving a trail of fire.

"You're mine," he breathes against your neck, his voice a low rumble of possession. "You've always been mine, and I won't share you anymore."

[marvelmaniac715]

No but actually I'm insane about how the Master/Missy always interacts with the Doctor. The thing is, I don't think the Master actually knows how to show love, because he was traumatised as a child when he looked into the Time Vortex, and the Academy didn't exactly teach its pupils about compassion, the Doctor was very similar to the Master when he first came to Earth - he had to learn about common decency from Ian and Barbara. The Master was once the Doctor's best friend, back when they were just Theta and Koschei, and he knows he feels strongly about the Doctor but has no clue what to do with those feelings. The Doctor got married, he had kids, in a sense he turned his back on the Master and left for Earth, so the love and loyalty that the Master once felt for him mixed with the heartbreak and betrayal, amplified by the ever-present drums in his head to absolute fury. But still, when he first comes to Earth he does try to communicate with the Doctor, but he can't understand why he's being rejected, he doesn't know what he's done wrong. So he keeps trying, then he stops trying as soon as he regenerates because it's a lost cause, but he never loses his feelings for the Doctor. He probably became more violent as a defence mechanism - lashing out before he can be hurt again. Decades go by, and then he's Professor Yana, and for a brief, shining moment, his relationship with the Doctor is almost functional; they're both happy, they're working together. But it isn't real, because for them, such a peaceful and gentle love could never exist. He never permanently kills the Doctor though, because he can't fathom the concept of a universe where his adversary is dead, and so instead he lays traps and plays mind games, so that the Doctor has to look at him, has to talk to him. Missy tried to be gentle again, as if a new tactic would yield different results, but the previous Master was disgusted with himself for - in his mind - stooping to a new level of desperation when the Doctor would probably never even notice how the Master felt. The Master's love is one of blood and teeth and nails, scratching and maiming, scrambling like a dying man to leave any impact at all on the Doctor. The Timeless Child probably didn't help matters - the Doctor essentially created the Master, and a god does not love their supplicant. They can't communicate with each other because it's been far too long, and they're both broken, the Doctor just hides it better. I just have so many thoughts about these two.

[cherrriesinthespring]

OMG SPENCER WITH 73 😍😍😍

i tried my best but.. idk 😭😭

the prompt is in pink!! cockwarming kinda, riding, teasing, the only description of the reader being a female is the prompt "what happened to my good girl?"

18+!!

---------------------------

i see this with S6 or S11 Reid but.... it's up to you

hips touching, skin on skin, the one time in a while he's let you get on top. his voice was stern when he'd told you to keep going until you both came twice, but just as the pleasure would build, he'd grab your waist to stop you from moving. you were getting frustrated with him.

spencer's instructions were clear, yet he made them impossible to follow. slick gathered between you, heat gathering in your stomach, a low coil. the way his fingers dug into your skin, the feeling almost bruising. a whine leaves you, which brings a low hush from his lips.

"honey, try again, you can do it.." he guides you and you huff.

"how am i-" before you can finish complaining he thrusts up into you, his flushed tip kisses your cervix. your whimper sets his stomach alight, he expresses this with a groan. spencer wants more, so do you, the difference is: you're vocal about it, he's holding back. you can feel the way he's pulsing, throbbing, each vein in his body (and his cock) practically has it's own heartbeat. of course, you're the same, clenching around him almost as if it's a competition to see who can take more.

he does it again, then another. then you're left blank. it almost physically hurts to be denied like this, you'd been so, so good. yet you got nothing back in return.

"please- please I want it.." you plead with him, you feel as though you've repeated this at least 100 times now.

"well you don't need it? if you don't need it, you can w-" he's cut off by a desperate wail.

"no! no, I mean- i need it.." he can't help but feel bad at the way your voice trails off, almost as if you're embarrassed. that doesn't stop him from teasing you.

"we beg for what we want, and we beg nicely, with manners. that's what I've taught you.. what happened to my good girl?” his tone is condescending, it doesn't help that this turns you on even more.

so you whine, and plead, until finally he lets you ride him with no interruptions. it took a lot, your body could barely handle the feeling, trying to hold back on the orgasm. it didn't surprise you that he lightened on the teasing and sly comments the further you both got to cumming. it wasn't just to be easier on you, but also because he was struggling to speak.

the space between you squelched with each buck of spencers hips, the grinding of your own. lifting yourself on your knees to a slightly better angle, it takes one move for him perfectly hit the spot you need. his head tips back, he's murmuring praises and you swear he whines at least twice.

his curls are stuck to his head, both of you covered in sweat, and it's impossible to even think of cumming twice. the motions are restless, chasing the high you both desperately need.

you both cum with a loud cry, the mess of slick between you now increases with the mixed substances dripping out of you. chests lightly collide, and you take your spot against him, head burrowing in his neck for comfort. all while he's still inside of you.

[fuck-customers]

Fuckery with phones: An ongoing series

-The phone ringing then IMMEDIATELY stopping before it can even finish its first ring tone. There's usually no caller ID and when there is it just says 'ringing'. So, not a caller ID. There's no number that shows up either. This is a daily occurrence.

-One day I checked the Voice MailBox to come back to NINETY-NINE BLANK VOICEMAILS all in a few seconds of length over the course of 2 hours. What in the actual fuck. How do you fuck up that badly. It stopped at 99 cause it filled the VMbox up and wouldn't accept anymore otherwise I'm sure it would have went on.

-The shop cell phone, used only for calling coworkers, used in function what would be a Walkie-Talkie but we don't have those, being bombarded with 'Spam Likely' calls 2 certain days. Only the shop cell phone, not the main landlines. Also, it's clearly not a customer who may have had that number, because all the calls show up as Spam Likely and all come from different phone numbers. The phone doesn't automatically just not ring when it is a spam like most newer phones do, thou when I go back to work I'm gonna mess with it to see if it's some sort of setting I can turn on. Pray for me that it is.

-Someone spoofing the children's hospital caller ID and it ended up being a scam caller about some bullshit.

-A robo call that purposely waits and does the confused 'hello?' thing after hearing a voice, waiting in silence then me confused says 'hello?' cause it sounds like no one's there. Then the robo says it's confused hello, I say hello again then it does it's robo speel. One time I asked it if it was a robo and it said 'while my voice may sound robotic-' I immediately hung up. But it keeps calling and I can't block calls with either landline the shop has so I'm stuck wasting my time with robo calls.

Also I can't hang up after I don't hear a response cause for some stupid reason customers don't pay attention when I say 'Good *time greeting* *business name*' then they go 'huh?' cause they weren't paying attention or ask what the business name is even thou I LITERALLY JUST SAID IT. Fuckin pay attention my god you made the call why are you surprised when I say the business name you're calling?

Anyway feel free to add your own stories, I know (hope) some other people out there have had their fair share of phone fuckery too.

Posted by admin Rodney

[gothamite-rambler]

Batman and Jim faced a woman who has the flu, her boyfriend was on the floor crying with a knife in his thigh.

Liz: I have the flu, not that 'flu', but regular flu. I am not feeling well. I just wanted to have my broth and relax in bed until my flu went away. Then… that motherfucker!

Liz pointed to her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend who glared back at her.

Liz: Was like, "Let's cook together! Let's cook together!" Like a damn Muppet!

Kyle: I don't sound like Kermit the Frog!

Jim: Maybe don't keep talking.

Liz: Thank you! Anyways, he said if I went to the store to shop, he'd make me a meal that I could digest, because you know I'm sick! So I relented, we got the stuff, went home and I couldn't 'cook together'. I couldn't stand… I could barely walk! Kyle sucked his teeth in denial

Liz: I went to bed and thought he would leave me alone, maybe bring me some Campbell's soup. He came in the room with a cutting board, a bell pepper and a knife.

Batman (pointing to the knife in the man's thigh): The knife that's in his thigh?

Liz nodded, hands on her hips.

Liz: Oh yeah, I lost it. I'm not proud to admit it, but "cooking together" with that man is me doing ninety percent of the cooking! He does this with all his family and I can usually let it go, but not when I'm going through the flu!

Kyle: Oh my God, I had a cold at ten and it wasn't even that bad. You're such a—

Liz tossed the bell pepper she had been gripping in her hand directly at Kyle's head, making him grunt and interrupting his whining for a second.

Kyle (whining again): I just wanted to cook together!

Jim: You keep saying that, but that doesn't mean anything. Especially since she's sick. Why would you want her to cook when she has the flu? Also you lied to her, you promised her a dinner you'd cook.

Kyle: There is a knife in my thigh!

Jim (jokingly): You're alive. I got stabbed once and could still work so that means yours can't be that bad.

Liz: He's done crap similar to this. One time he did that stupid TikTok challenge where the guy says 'what's for dinner, bitch?' and I let it slide, but what he did was uncalled for! Batman has said anything, but I'm ready for my scolding.

Batman covered his mouth, unintentionally laughing. He turned to Jim, placing his hand on the man's shoulder.

Batman: This is fucking wild!

Jim nodded, rubbing his eyes and laughing as well.

Batman: I'm sorry, I just keep picturing you grabbing the knife and jabbing it into his thigh and he shouts "I just wanted to cook together!"

Jim: This fucking guy. He's like the dog that keeps bringing the ball back and I just want to rest.

Liz started laughing next, still pissed but glad two other men were on her side.

Liz: Dude, agree. I couldn't take his nonsense anymore.

Kyle: I'm right here!

Liz scoffed rolling her eyes.

Liz: Look I know I overreacted, but he promised to make dinner and give me my medicine then brought me a cutting board!

Batman: Which is the worst task to give a sick person. Bringing a knife and cutting board in bed. You're going to prison, but I don't blame you.

Jim: Yeah, you overreacted, but he's alive. We just have to wait for the EMTs to take him away and then take you in for questioning. Honestly you might not get jail time.

Kyle (defiant, whining): I'm suing her either way!

Liz: I'll pay half of your medical bills douche. This was a good reason to dump him at least. Kyle, pack your shit later and leave. We're through.

Kyle: Fine! I'll find another—

Batman and Jim: STOP SAYING COOK TOGETHER!

Kyle pouted, resting on the ground with his arms cross while Liz sat down to blow her nose.

Based off a reddit story I saw on smosh pit that angered me so much I had to write a what if. In the AITA post OP is the boyfriend who brought in the cutting board and she didn't stab him (I would've hit him with the cutting board at least). I can only hope she dumped his ass.

[pigeonentity]

i keep thinking about them in terms of for and against each other: thirteen's against, twelve's for, eleven i think would be against, ten's for, and i haven't watched anything before him (yeah ikk im getting to it soon. watched it w my parents the first time so its on them) so i can't speak beyond that. dhawan's against, missy's for, and simm's against. like they've all got at least a little of both but they have a general direction

twissy worked out because they both cared about each other. missy came to help the doctor when he thought he was going to die, the doctor... locked her up, but he did have good intentions. i dont think we can say spydoc worked out, but i think since they both hated each other it went smoother than it could have. and tensimm was fucking doomed (neither of them want the same thing. they want each other to be different people)

twelvesimm, which was overshadowed by twissy but still deserves a mention, i think is similar to tensimm but with time could have had a higher chance of success, since 12, i think, might have responded more to him rather than trying to push him into someone who wanted to be better. tbh it might depend on the doctor's mood that day, im a little uncertain about this one but at the very least its a vaguely more functional tensimm

thrissy would break me. thrissy would be the anti-tensimm. missy shows up, still an enemy but also always, willingly and knowingly, a friend, and this time it's the doctor who says no. who tells her to fuck off, less distrust than expected and more loathing. they fight until missy realises it's not their usual games, and the doctor's gone too far stopping her. i mean come on her master tried to have her and her companions killed but it's not like he actually did it-- but she turned him over to the fucking nazis before she even knew he destroyed gallifrey, and missy killed osgood just after the doctor offered to have her as a companion, how would 13 take that?

11missy (elmissy? elemissy? mileven? no.) would run similarly, but if we're going with her using her same plan that she used on 12... he would take the army. he would take the army, however little he trusted her. i can see it going a few ways-- she leaves or he kills her or he locks her up somewhere because he's the doctor and she's the master and that's what he does, she comes back and suggests conquering the universe together or something, he says no and they fight, he says yes because he excuses murder if it aligns with what he wants, or if he likes the person enough (look at who he married!!) and they murder across the universe and we have canon thoschei until a companion saves the universe from them or river gets jealous

11dhawan would be AMAZING they have VERY similar energy and it would be SO much fun but also-- parallels? you could do so many little parallels with that? we see them spin the same way at the same time and they hate each other but one comments on something walking down a hallway and the other comes by and says the same thing and ughhh who do i pay to make this happen??

12dhawan has a special place in my hearts and i cant completely say why i just need them to meet. i need to be there when the master shows the doctor the timeless child and he cant accept it. idk if he'd be able to go the "there's more of me!" way out that 13 did, but he might be able to half do it, in that he realises he can overload the system but they break out of there through spite. i need to be there when the doctor says that ofc burning gallifrey is wrong, but he sides with the master. they lied to us. they lied to both of us. i need to see the master's anger, because he's being forgiven again. but he's not forgiving him, it's more that he understands, or like what he said to clara-- do you really think i care for you so little that betraying me could make a difference?-- and the master doesn't know what to do with that. he is so close to being better. but he doesn't want to be. so he burns himself up

10missy would work BUT i think 10 might take the army and theyd be less functional than twissy

I FORGOT THE ONES AFTER 13 skipping 14 bc he blurs into 10 for me even though they're different, but 15 would be for and he and missy would both hurtle into "this is MY queer friends to enemies to whatever the fuck we are and i can be as weird and dramatic about it as i like" not only are they both for but they're both on the exact same level as to what their relationship is and they're so fucking weird about it it's brilliant. varies a bit depending on who missy kills but i think there's a lot of chaotic potential there

but also if the master starts being too dramatic he would just tell them to shut up. which would also be brilliant

ANYWAY if anybody writes about any of these versions PLEASE tag me i need to read about them. pigeonentity on here and ao3. please

to me thoschei is one of those dress up games where i get to mix and match different items of clothing (versions of the doctor and the master) to create stunning outfits (tragic relationship dynamics)

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 59

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

You never really liked hospitals, they are empty and dull and white and you go there only when something bad happens... Never a pleasant experience, you of all people have bad memories of them...

This time It's really silent too, the association pulled all the steps to keep Grian far from other patients, maybe to prevent his identity being discovered by someone wandering around.

Cub stops you in front of the door right before you can enter.

"Before we go in, Altostratus and Ocean Queen don't know Cuteguy's identity"

You forgot about that, you didn't even consider it... you feel awful, you got distracted and- not the time, you'll feel bad later, you can just ask Grian what he wants to do...yeah.

Altostratus crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. "And?"

You are the one to speak up this time around. "A-and the choice to reveal his identity is still his" Your words get caught up on eachother a bit but they must understand what you are trying to say.

"So, I'm going with Cub to ask him if he wants to do it." That should be ok right?

Altostratus goes to say something but is shushed by his wife (You are still shocked about that and no, you will not let this go, how did no one notice??). She nods in his place and hits him the head slightly when he tries to protest...

You open the door and step in, there is a corridor in front of you and at the end of it is Grian's room, as you do you hear Ocean Queen call Altostratus a "Nincompoop" from behind the door...you have no idea what that means and at this point you don't think you even want to ask.

Grian is waiting for you, you don't really question how he knew you were coming, as far as you know he just has been waiting like that for hours... You hope he hasn't done that. Maybe he just heard you! That makes more sense! You didn't really care about the noise you made so he must have noticed when you and Cub came in.

"Scar! Cub! Finally!"

He's excited? You of course It's good that he's doing good of, that's the most important thing, butbyou didn't expect this from someone who just woke up from almost dying. You just don't know how to feel, you expected him to be angry or sad or something, more then that it feels like you don't deserve to see him so happy since he got hurt because of you being careless.

"You can't believe how bored I was! Here all alone ... waiting!"

He was...bored? The room is mostly empty except for some medical machine stuff, that does seem like it would be pretty boring. You are wondering if your thought about him waiting for you the whole time might actually be what happened- Wait, you need to say something, you are usually a lot better at talking over thinking.

"Well, eh...no time to be bored with me here. And I brought friends!"

Cub nods and adds "They are heroes...but still, seeing them would have you reveal their identity to them, Scar insisted we ask you first. I agree with him."

...

Grian looks thoughtful, this is probably a really big choice for him so you understand he might need some time to make the choice-

"Sounds good to me!"

Nevermind! That was a bit fast though, you hope he doesn't feel like he has too.

"Are you sure Grian? You can say no, no one is-"

"Nah! I'm sure, bring them in! I wanted to meet the others for a while now anyway."

Oh. Oh? Oh! Well, that's good news then Cub nods again and leaves to get the others... Hopefully they'll get along well.

...

Well this is weird, Altostratus and Grian are just staring at eachother. Like they know eachother already??? I mean, Altostratus is a top hero so it makes sense for Grian to know OF him but this feels different, like they met face to face.

But you would know if something like that happened right? Grian would have definitely told you. Cub beats you to it though, you aren't surprised he noticed it too, he's very smart about these things.

"Do you two know eachother already?"

The two answer at the same time, Grian with a no and Altostratus with a yes....Ok so, something strange is definitely going on here, you akwardly look between the two. For a second Grian looks actually angry???? Frustrated at least. You don't think you ever seen him make an expression like that, it disappears immediately but you can swear it was there.

. . . Huh

*End of Chapter 11*

[suzukiblu]

Day five of February’s second weekly WIP behind the cut; “mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Ugh, he is being such a fucking downer right now. In his own head, even, for fuck's sake. Just because, like, he's never really felt like he fit in with Clark's family and feels even less like he does since their stupid fucking reality rebooted and now maybe their stupid fucking reality is dead and might've taken everyone who he remembers ever knowing whether they remember him at all or not with it and now he'll really never, ever get to go home again and–

Kon stops thinking about that shit. Not actually fixing the problem, you realize, Cassie would say. It’s just catastrophizing until you have all the intel, Tim would say. 

We found you once, we'll find you again, Bart would say. 

Or, like, something totally stupid and ridiculous about nothing important so Kon could pretend to be a mentally stable person for just another five minutes. Whichever. 

He doesn't know what he's gonna do if they can't find each other again. If they're not there to be found. Aside from, like, continue to interdimensionally babysit the ten year-old version of a guy who doesn't even particularly care that he's alive, much less that they're both wearing the same house crest. Like–that, yeah. And only that until they find the local Clark, either way. 

Fuck, this is the worst interdimensional bullshit to bullshit since fucking Gemworld. 

Kon doesn’t think about how long it took him to get the fuck off fucking Gemworld. 

( doesn’t wonder if his reality’s Jon is out there somewhere not thinking about how long it took him to get the fuck out of the fucking volcano. )

Jon really does keep up the excited rambling the whole way out of Gotham, which Kon still cannot actually process as being a thing and still has no idea how he feels about. Just–just the way the kid’s looking at him is . . . 

Literally no one has ever looked at him the way this kid is looking at him right now, especially not any version of Jon Kent. 

He just . . . he doesn’t know what the fuck to think about it. 

“We’ll be arriving at the manor shortly, Mr. Kent,” Alfred finally interrupts as a smooth interjection when Jon’s pausing to take a breath and Kon is panicking about whether or not he’s supposed to be saying anything to the kid or what. Kon is very, very fucking grateful for said interruption and leans forward in his seat to peer ahead through the windshield. Not that he didn’t already know where they were, he’s just kinda curious about what may or may not look different in this reality’s version of the neighborhood. Like, he doesn’t know, maybe–

Wait. He does know where they are. And Alfred just said–

“Wait, you’re actually taking us to the manor?” Kon asks incredulously. 

“It would appear so, Mr. Kent,” Alfred says, raising an eyebrow at him in the rearview mirror. “I do recall saying that I was.” 

“Yeah, in front of Rita!” Kon protests. “We didn’t actually think you were gonna take us to the actual manor! What the hell, man?!” 

“Oh is Batman gonna just kill us?” Jon asks, half-covering his face with his hands with a freaked-out expression. “Are we getting killed and chucked off the ledge in the Batcave and like they’ll literally never even find our bodies?” 

“That seems a rather inhospitable welcome, young Mr. Kent,” Alfred replies wryly. “I intended to make tea, personally. Perhaps a late supper, under the circumstances.” 

Yeah, they are definitely never finding their bodies. 

[soteria-sys]

Can't stop thinking about choosing the right fruits. It would, take trail and error to choose those that, teaste exactly like me, right?

I can feel myself getting excited, hearing Her car in the driveway. It's been a few years, and now I'm allowed a full access to the basement, rather just my cage. But I still choose to sleep in it when She's not home

Doors open, light enters the dark room. Her sweet voice calling me upstairs, to the living room. I know better by now, not to try to jump at Her from excitement, as She snaps her fingers at me, into Position 3rd, Waiting, next to the couch. Back to the couch, on my knees, with my hands resting on them, my back forming a nice arch for Her, with my head within Her hand-reach

I could see that, coffee table is covered in different kinds off fruits. The table itself is covered in extra edition of an, old newspaper, that had my missing person poster on it. She used to read me the article about the investigation and my... "family", speaking to the press, before bed. But, by now I've learned it by heart. She sometimes made me recite it, making sure I'll regret making any mistakes afterwards.

I knew what it all meant. She's been open about Her plans. And...and I've finally reached, its final stages. Hearing her excited voice, describe to me different fruits she was trying, letting me try some of the closer ones and, speak my opinion on them. Her hands, moving across my body. I could always feel just how, hungry Her touch was. But today, it was different. Because...because today was different.

I couldn't help myself but to, shed a few tears, with my head in Her lap. I didn't want to go. I wanted to, stay longer with Her. It's been, just eight years. But Her words got these silly ideas out of my head. It wasn't my decision to make, that's for one. For the second. That's why, we just spent all afternoon trying out different fruits. So I can...I can keep on, being in Her life. So She can, still teaste me. I was so happy to bleed more for Her. My body was, already decorated in, all these beautiful gifts She gave me. I was really happy to have gotten more. After all...She. She needed to make sure, to really compare the teastes. right?...

Later in the night, She finally settled on Mutsu apple. She said it, reminded Her of how fresh I still feel. Just how refreshing my presence was. How my cold skin felt on Her tongue. How that, greet, contrasted with my brown eyes, and how much She liked it.

I was allowed to, sleep in Her bed this night. I was, still a bit shaky, but I've stopped protesting at least, few years ago. It was, going to happen, what She said is going to happen. Laying down in Her arms, with my head on Her chest, listening to Her calm breath, listening to Her heartbeat. I couldn't help it but. Smile to myself happy. How, lucky I was, that She choose me, of all people. How lucky I was, to be changed by Her. Drifting to sleep, I was, excited about tomorrow. I know that excitement in Her voice pretty well. And I couldn't. Wait to hear it tomorrow.

I couldn't wait, to server Her again. It was, but my Purpose. I'll never repay Her, for the kindness She has shown me, in changing me. By showing me love. My body was, full of scars, bruises. Proofs of, just how much She cares. Her hands, grabbing tighter onto me, through Her sleep, making me hiss as She squeezed on, one of my fresh bruises. I couldn't really help but smile. Because...

I wouldn't want it, any other way. But the way, She choose for me -Page

[lucy---lou]

Part 19 Lucys-hdg-story

We arrive in the hab again after being tied up in vines and 'force' carried by Mistress. We are placed onto the couch but vines still pin us down.

"Are my little rebellious girls going to behave again?"

"Yes Mistress, I promies", Ellie begins.

"Yes misstr - Mi - mistress - miss Du-ralis, won't happen again", I stutter. The xenodrugs seem to have worn off.

"You could have continued calling her Mistress, silly"

Oh shit I've been calling her Mistress all day and I didn't even notice. I feel my face start to burn. The drugs stopped my fears and then I just said anything. "Kitten?" Aaaahh I even told Marie that she was hot and I kissed Ellie. I - aaaahhhh. Something boops my nose.

"I - yeah what?"

"You drifted off for a while", Mistress smiles, "Anyways I'd like to know why you suddenly started calling me Mistress"

"I-"

"I-"

"I-ehm"

"I-"

I grab the shark plushie, burry my face into it and curl into a ball.

"NO can't tell!"

"My kitten please tell me or I have to get it out of you"

I stayed curled into a ball. I don't want her to drug me, but I really don't want to say it myself, I can't, it won't come out. There a thick clog in my throat. I sob into the plushie.

"Oh petal I'm sorry but this is the best for you, trust me", she injects me, "So why did you call me mistress?"

"It already started before that. Ever since I cuddled your core. Everytime I think about you Mistress pops into my head and I have to think hard to find your name in my head. I hid it before because otherwise you would domesticate me, sure that'll be really hot and thats what I want and I-", I shove my hand in my mouth to keep myself from talking. My face is on fire. Vines pin me down again

"Please continue petal"

"On drugs I didn't worry about anything and so everytime I thought of you Mistress would come to mind and I'd just say it, oh and Mistress is really hot when she pins me down", I squirm in place trying to escape, the vines tighten further. I try to fight the drugs.

"Anything else on your mind kitten?"

"Please never leave me. I can't live alone. Not after everything. I need you", I start crying, "I need to be with you, feel you. Be with Ellie cuddle her, let her make me blush and and and pleeeaaaseeeeee make it end. I can't do this anymore it's to much. Just make me your pet already, take these stupid thoughts away. Take me pleeeaseeeee, pretty pleeaseeeee. I need to be your pet. aighausc jqbwicuf hwkdicjfb wjwixjdbwiw cjwbwidkdnfje, pleeeeaaaseeeeeeee", word leave me as I completely loose myself. I feel a prick everything falls away.

"My little kitten, this is everything I wished for since I met you at the park. You were always going to be mine and only mine. I love you my kitten"

Vines rush towards me possessively touching me, cradling me, pulling me into her. I feel multiple pricks. Her biorhythm washes over me, drowns me in her. Her vines feel amazing. Her eyes are beautiful. Everything feels amazing. It feels amazing giving up.

It goes on for a while.

"You two are having fun, but I'd like my pinnate too!"

"How cruel of me separating two pinnates", she laughs.

She is placed onto me and franticly starts kissing me until she's out of breath. I'm to high to do anything other than wiggle and moan in pleasure and whine when it stops.

"Gosh finally! I've been waiting so long for you, my pinnate, and now I can kiss her as much as I want!"

I completely bliss out. Mistress said something about a contract. Am I not to high for a contract, I don't care. Florets don't care, their owners manage everything. I just have to look cute and cuddle, that's all I ever have to do ever again. And thats exactly what I do until I fall asleep in her vines.

-Well she finally broke. But don't worry I still have a few ideas left.

[daz-zey]

Too Much

"I'm not letting you go, damn it! I lost you once... I am not going to lose you again," you huffed and gritted out. Fists clenched on your sides. "I refuse!" You yelled, tears prickling in your eyes.

Gi-hun's expression softens at your outburst. It was one of the rare times you ever got angry or talk to him that way for that matter. You were always patient. Only with him of course. The rest of the world, well, could fuck off.

Gi-hun understood your reluctance to his plan but it's a decision he made out of some responsibility and grief. He wouldn’t be who he was without you, how he kept hanging on because of your will to stay. He is forever grateful for you and would do whatever you wanted. Except for this one thing. The one thing that altered his mind, life and reality.

He grabs your biceps and pulls you closer. He leans to kiss your forehead, attempting to calm you down. He sighed heavily, the weight on his shoulders continues to weigh him down. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, yeobo,” he says, his hands moves to cup your face. His thumbs caressing your skin. “I have to do this. I have to go. They won’t stop, they won’t because they don’t care. But I do. I care too much. So please… you need to let me go.” He couldn’t help but beg, beg for you to understand. "I promise to come back. I'll come back to you. Just wait for me okay?" He says with a meek smile. "Then we'll continue what we have going."

You wanted to believe him like you always do but somehow this was different. You might not see him again. Hope doesn’t belong in the games, it doesn’t exist. So him going back while you stay in the shabby pink motel… you wouldn’t even know if he made it out alive because you don’t know where the island is. Not even Jun-ho can find it. "Don't say that, Gi-hun. Don't make promises you can't keep," you murmured. You know in your heart that you're right about all of this and you don't have anymore tears left to cry. “Even if-… Even when you come back, how can you still live with what you know? With what you’ve relived again? Huh? You’re only burying yourself deeper into that void, Gi-hun!” You were shaking now, you pushed Gi-hun away. “I can stay with you, be in this relationship, love you but this… this is the last straw, Gi-hun… I’m not sure I’ll still be here when you come back,” you say, your voice hoarse and strained from trying not to break down in front of him. “So if you want to go… then go. Leave. I’m sick of seeing you broken,” you finished, a tear running down your cheek.

Gi-hun stood there stunned. He didn’t think you would end it, here and now. It was abrupt. Lightning flashes in the night sky, thunder booming and rain pours down on both of you. Gi-hun didn’t care because he stared at you, seeing the look in your eyes and face. Flashbacks during the time he came back from the first games two years ago. Rain. Blood. Pain. He reached out to you but you were out of reach. You were gone, your back was facing him. You were walking away from him. Leaving a piece that you had of him with him.

In the end, you let him go. In the end, you left him as he left you. In the end, love wasn’t enough. In the end, the both of you were alone.

[writingdevil]

Ok this is kind of a weird prompt but it would be interesting to write something relating to the Narrator, since I’ve noticed he doesn’t have much stuff of his own despite being one of the three important characters that makes the construct

It would be interesting to see how you write him

(Oh, that's an interesting one! The Narrator is one of the most important characters and he's very intriguing to me. Still, he's not a character that I write or think about a lot, but I'll try my best and I hope you like it-enjoy!)

"You're on a path in the woods..."

This was going to work. This was going to work. It had to. He may be an Echo, but he can still do something to get the paradise he deserves. He's come this far, and he can't exactly back out now.

"...and at the end of that path, is a cabin..."

He created this construct and this script, just to make sure that his plan succeeded. Nothing could go wrong, because if it did, then he wouldn't be able to be at peace anymore. He can't risk that. He won't allow that reality to come to fruition.

"...and in the basement of that cabin, is a princess."

This was the right thing to do. Maybe in another life, another echo of himself, he would be ashamed of himself for taking the very two concepts that shaped the universe, giving them consciousness and godhood, only to trap them in this vicious act-but he wasn't. She has to die, so that he can get the happiness he deserves.

"You're here to slay her."

The figure that he was narrating to, flinched and froze at his words, but it didn't matter. He couldn't stop this, stop what needed to be done. The Echo couldn't bare to live in a world where she dictated how the universe worked.

No, the concept of change was a terrifying thing, and the Echo was determined to have the Long Quiet erase it from existence, for there was only so much that the Echo himself could do. Change was something that the world didn't need. Forcing all the good and love that he once knew to disappear, just for something different and wrong to take its place, leaving him with no handle on how to keep going.

People can't just disappear like that. People can't just force him to live on, knowing that all that made him happy would one day rot and die. He can't live in a world like that anymore. He did, once upon a time, but he would rid the world of that suffering for good now, so that nobody would have to feel what he once endured.

Everything would be perfect, so long as the reality that the Echo wants, is made without the concept of change, without the possibility of death and grief and loss. He refused to feel like that again, and there's nothing that these two little gods can do to thwart his plans.

"If you don't, it will be the end of the world."