#Catch the wheel that breaks the butterfly

[keysareoutofreach]

[leclerc-hs]

73 Questions with Mrs. Leclerc - cl16

pairing: husband!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you do a 73 questions interview with Vogue OR charles can't help but third wheel your interview warnings: none??? just cute fluff basically, NOT PROOFREAD word count: 2.1k author's note: I actually got a request by someone to do this and thought it was such a CUTE idea and concept. I obviously didn't do ALL 73 questions cause that would've taken forever. But thought this was a cute little piece to do. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think don't be shy !! xoxo

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THE DELICATE FOLDS of the pale pink sundress fluttered like petals in a gentle breeze, framing your figure with a soft, ethereal elegance. As the front door yielded to the push, the fabric danced around your legs, caressing the tender skin of your thighs with a whisper of touch. Your radiant smile illuminated the scene, a beacon of joy amidst the fluttering fabric and nervous flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey!” The male voice chimed brightly, his tone cheerful as a songbird greeting the dawn, echoing through the air with an infectious energy that mirrored your own bright smile.

“Hey!” You respond with effervescent warmth, your smile stretching across your face like a sunbeam breaking through clouds. With a graceful gesture, you swing the door open wider, revealing the inviting warmth of your home’s foyer. The soft light spills in, casting a golden glow over the polished floors and elegant furnishing. The first thing to notice is the giant painting of a Ferrari Formula One car, hung high above the entry way table.  

“Look who we have here! It’s Mrs. Leclerc!” A delicate blush warms your cheeks, a subtle reminder of the tender affection that tingles within you whenever you’re addressed as such. Though you and Charles have been together for many years, your marriage has infused your relationship with a fresh sense of intimacy and closeness. And despite that it’s been almost five years, the title of “wife” feels forever new and unfamiliar.

“On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“I would say 8, so I’m super excited!” With a gentle click, you shut the front door behind you, enveloping the foyer in a tranquility as you made your way down the hallway to the kitchen. Along the way, you stooped to pick up a scattering of children’s toys that lay scattered like confetti on the polished wooden floors, offering a quick apology for the perceived “mess.” However, you couldn’t help but inwardly smile at the orchestrated chaos around you. While the house was meticulously maintained by the cleaning company before the video shoot, every detail was carefully curated to strike the perfect balance between lived-in warmth and elegance, ensuring a setting that felt both inviting and authentic to you and the viewers.

“Any reason for that?”

In the heart of the home lies a kitchen adorned with a stunning green cabinet motif. The cabinets, painted in a rich emerald hue, exude an air of sophistication and charm, perfectly complemented by gleaming brass hardware. Sunlight filters through the vast array of windows, casting a warm glow over the polished marble countertops. 

“You mean other than the fact that the kids go back to school soon?” You and the interviewer let out a soft laugh as you made your way behind the kitchen island, opening the fridge in a smooth motion to pull out a water bottle. “Want one?”

“No, but thanks though!” His voice is light-hearted. 

As the fridge door remains open, a tantalizing glimpse is offered to the audience of its well-stocked interior. A colorful array of fresh produce fills the shelves, showing an abundance of vibrant fruits and crisp vegetables. Among the healthy offerings, assortment of juice boxes catches the eye, adding a playful touch to the wholesome scene.

“That’s a lot of juice boxes you have in there.” He makes a comment, it’s not a question, but you take it as one.

“Two kids and a husband,” You start, your tone light and casual before lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper for the camera, “who practically is also a kid, results in a lot of juice boxes.” With a playful wink directed at the lens, you punctuate the statement, adding a touch of humor to the scene. Setting the water bottle down on the expansive kitchen counter, you resume your easy demeanor, effortlessly blending candor and charm for your audience.

“Hey!” Your head shoots over, the camera seamlessly following your gaze to where Charles, your husband,sits on the floor of the living room, two of your kids, aged two and three, beside him with an abundance of toys strewn about. “I heard that!” Charles retorts with mock offense, a playful grin lighting up his face as he joins in the banter.

The living room exudes a chic sophistication with a distinct Formula One flair. Charcoal-gray walls provide a sleek backdrop, accentuating the mounted flat-screen television. A striking statement piece dominates one corner—a display of artwork showcasing all of the racetracks Charles has conquered – infusing the room with a sense of triumph and energy. A plush white sofa, adorned with an array of vibrant red pillows, invites relaxation and style. Across the room, a sizable shelf proudly showcases a collection of racing helmets, some belonging to Charles and others gathered over time, adding a personal touch to the space. Below the television, was a long console table that was adorned in various plants and photos of your family. You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced at them.

With a casual wave of your hand, you dismiss Charles’s playful interruption, maintaining your position at the kitchen island as the camera refocuses on you. The gesture carries an air of affectionate familiarity, a gentle reminder of the dynamic energy that permeates your bustling household.

“If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?”

“Definitely Austin Butler.” You answer almost immediately, no hesitance in your voice.

“Hey!” Charles’s playful yelp echoes through the room once more, accompanied by the joyful laughter of your children. One nestled in his lap, the other engrossed in a picture book, their presence adding warmth and vitality to the room. You share a knowing smile with Charles, the affectionate banter a familiar melody to your family life.

The laughter of the interviewer joins the playful exchange. The camera effortlessly captures the dynamic interaction between all of you with ease.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Restez en dehors de ça.” Stay out of this!

“Arrête de faire semblant de vouloir faire l’amour avec quelqu’un d’autre que moi!” Stop pretending you want to make love with anybody but me!

With a mischievous gleam in your eye, you turn back to the camera, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Can I change my answer?” You inquire, injecting a hint of playful anticipation into your tone.

“Sure,” the interviewer replies.

“You’re supposed to say no,” You quip with a chuckle.

“Oh, um no?”

With a playful pout, you glance over at Charles who is already staring at the interaction. A smile adorned on his face like he is in complete awe of you, regardless of what you are saying. “Sorry honey!” You wave your hand around. “Answers are final!”

Leaving the kitchen behind, you make your way towards the backyard, where the promise of relaxation and leisure awaits. Stepping through the door, you’re greeted by the sight of a large pool shimmering under the sunlight, its crystal-clear waters beckoning for a refreshing dip. Surrounding the pool, lounge chairs are strategically place, some on the pool’s ledge, inciting you to bask in the sun while enjoying the cool water. A wide arrangement of pool floaties from unicorns to racecars litter the pool as well.

It’s a breathtaking sight: a vast expanse of bright blue skies stretching overhead, adorned with barely a wisp of cloud in sight. The warm rays of sun dance upon your skin. With a stylish flourish, you slip on a pair of your favorite Ray-Bans, a subtle nod to your husband’s sunglass collection. 

“Vintage or new?”

You ponder for a moment as you stand in the backyard, a breeze blowing your hair behind your shoulders. “Depends, but definitely vintage.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Aisle, although Charles likes to take the aisle more.”

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“Wait, do my children count as two of the three?”

“Up to you.”

“Okay, so my two children. And my lip gloss.” You laugh, pausing for effect. “Kidding! My two kids, and my lip gloss…” You pause, jokingly. “And my husband of course.” The light-hearted remark reflects the joyful chaos of humor and love in your life. “He’s really the sweetest man. I’m so lucky.”

The glass door slides open with a whisper, and into the frame steps Charles, his presence incessant. With a carefree demeanor, he approaches you clad in a pair of baggy jeans and a plain white t-shirt that stretched at the seams from his muscles. He presses soft kisses to your cheeks, the stubble of his own rubbing against your smooth skin, his love evident in each tender kiss.

“Désolé,” Sorry. He apologizes before pecking another kiss to your cheek. “Tellement ambrassable.” Just so kissable. He places one more on your cheek, your face bright red from the camera’s catching all of this.

“Looks like he can’t be far from you for very long.”

Charles looks at the camera, a glint in his eye with a large smile, like he was the happiest man on earth, and nothing could dampen his spirits. Especially with you nearby. “Est-ce que tu la vois?” Do you see her?

The interviewer, unaware of Charles’s words, simply nods in response behind the camera lens, acknowledging the affection in his tone. Later translations will reveal the depth of Charles’s words no doubt. Elle est tellement belle. Bien sûr, je ne peux pas rester loin longtemps.” She’s so beautiful. Of course, I can’t stay far long.

Your face is bright red as Charles remains at your side.

“Where are the kids?”

“Put them down for a nap!” Charles answers, his arm slung over your shoulder as he leans on you comfortably. 

As the interviewer continues the questionnaire, Charles can’t resist interjecting with playful remarks and comments on almost every question. His spontaneous interruptions add an element of humor and spontaneity to the video, turning what could have been a standard interview into an entertaining and engaging exchange.

“How do you define beauty?” “My wife.” “Charles, the questions are for me!”

"What do you love most about your body?" "That's an easy one...I think her--" Charles begins, but you swat his chest and cut him off. "I love my arms. Not because they're that nice but they give me the ability to hold my children." Charles clicks his tongue, hating that you even implied something about yourself as 'not that nice'.

"Least favorite color?" "Red." Charles lets out a large gasp with a string of phrases in French, clearly hurt by your response. "It's a joke, mon amour!" "How did you know you were in love?" You look at Charles then, his eyes already on you, a soft smile pulling on both of your lips. "I can't remember a time when I wasn't in love with him. Probably when I realized I would rather be awake in the middle of the night, since he was traveling so much, just to talk to him for even a few minutes, instead of going to sleep." Charles plays with the ends of your hair, twirling the ends around his fingers as he chimes in. "We've known each other for so long. But, when I first met her, it was like meeting someone I've known my entire life. There was no awkward silences between us. We just clicked."

“Diamonds or pearls?” “Pearls.” “Mon chou, don’t lie.” “I’m not!” “The diamond on your finger says otherwise!”

“If you made a documentary, what would it be about?” “Charles’ brain. I seriously question what goes on in there sometimes.” “Hey! It’s only you…”  You raise your eyebrows at him, like he’s a liar. “And racing.” “Definitely racing.”

“If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Charles smirks deeply, like he knows something the world doesn’t, the interviewer picks up on it. “Wait, you have a tattoo? Can we see it?”

“No! It’s for me only.”

You playfully swat at Charles’ chest, a playful blush coloring your cheeks as you both wander throughout the house, showcasing its beautiful décor. Despite your embarrassment at Charles’ antics, you can’t help but be thankful for him easing your nerves. You weren’t one for the public eye, normally. So, when you agreed to this interview it came out as quite a surprise.

“Okay final question of the day.” 

You both stand by the front door, the interviewer on the front step outside of the home. 

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Definitely ki—” You don’t get to finish your answer as Charles’ fingers grasp onto your neck, his fingers sprawled along your jawline as well, and tugs your face into his. He shuts the door as soon as his tongue slips into your mouth.

It’s a few seconds before you push him off you. “You’re unbelievable!”

A giant smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you. “Only for you, mon chou!”

[whoreteen]

♡ ۫　　𓈒　LET’S TAKE A LITTLE JOYRIDE .

[ yoon jeonghan. ]

☆ summary — a late night drive with jeonghan takes an interesting and very unexpected turn. . . ☆ content warnings — [ nsfw, mdni. ] · car sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), corruption, degradation, breeding, dumbification, fingering, spitting, pet names like baby, sweetheart, pretty, good girl, princess and a bunch of praising <3 ☆ wordcount — 5,4K .

“pretty.” jeonghan coos, his tone mischievous.

he catches sight of your shyness, and his face breaks into a grin, eyes twinkling with amusement.

deciding to tease you further, one of his hands lets go of the steering wheel to push your dress out of the way. you let your breath catch in your throat when you feel his long fingers explore your bare thighs.

“look at you,” he clicks his tongue, grin still on his face.

you’re too busy trying to catch your breath to notice the small smirk on his lips, or the hem of your short dress rising up and, exposing more skin. next thing you know, jeonghan drags his cold fingertips along your inner thigh.

flustered, you press your legs together.

“…falling apart for me already.”

the unexpected comment creates a rose flush across your cheeks, and you can’t look away. it’s like every single nerve in your body is attuned to jeonghan’s every touch and every breath.

you are falling apart.

and though you so desperately try to hide it in your lip bites and little gasps of air, he knows you.

“so weak for me, huh?” he quizzes, reading you like a book.

your breath is already ragged and you feel your cheeks warming as you think of an answer. “i… uh, uhm… i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“mhm?” jeonghan’s fingers come close to your aching core, and you feel yourself getting soaked through just at the sound of his voice.

“jeonghan...” your voice is small, and if it wasn’t for the silence in the car it would’ve gone unheard.

he finds himself amused with how he knows your body so well, and how he sees right through you despite you feigning indifference.

“y’sure, angel?” he asks lightly, his words and throaty voice bringing shivers to your nerve endings.

one of his fingers come into contact with your aching cunt, lightly grazing his fingertips against it. “i haven’t even touched you yet and you’re soaked.”

you keep a close eye on his fingers, his movements so slow and precise, as he inhales and exhales.

“my pretty girl,” he smiles and you feel butterflies taking flight in your tummy. “always horny when i want you to be, always willing to spread that slutty little pussy for me.”

jeonghan swiftly removes his hand from your core and grazes it over your exposed shoulders with a smirk. he trails his large hand down to your jacket which is halfway off and drapes it over your shoulders, his free hand tearing it off with one quick swoop, so he can get a better look at your lace clad body; sailing your jacket over his shoulder with such determination that has you giggling.

arching a perfect eyebrow, he smiles, unguarded at you. “what?”

“you got a thing for women in lace?” you pose.

“i got a thing for you in lace,” he smiles, his eyes showing mischief, voice laced with such obvious lust.

you try to roll your eyes, but jeonghan’s fingers quickly finds your core again, continuing their soft ministrations.

“you’re fuckin’ perfect.” he splutters, it’s more a heavy rasp as he gawks at the way your natural curves look under the lace of your dress. “shit…”

your back arches when he softly rubs your clit, your hips shakily rutting against his hand as moans escape your parted lips.

jeonghan wants to make a u-turn so badly, speed all the way home so he can rip that little dress off and fuck you brainless. he wants to spend all night in between your thighs and make you cum over and over again, on his tongue, his fingers, his dick…

“oh my god…” you whimper weakly. “jeonghan…”

you have no idea when your innocent drive turned into him corrupting you in his car, when his hand that had started off sweetly holding your own had slipped to your thigh, or when his fingers came into contact with your cunt.

all you know is that you want him. but you also know that can’t have him— well, at least not right now while he’s driving.

“hannie,” you scold playfully. he tries to lean in for a peck but you place your finger on his lips, stopping him from moving closer.

you quickly come to your senses and push his hand away from the passengers’ seat you’re sitting in, “stop it. keep your eyes on the road and hands on the wheel.”

during your little road trip to the event you’re going to, jeonghan struggled to keep his eyes on the road in front of him and kept glancing at your bare legs. your dress is barely covering all your goodness and it drives him crazy.

completely and utterly insane, actually.

it started innocently— sweet, flirty conversations, jeonghan playing with your fingers, tracing your palm while his other hand was on the steering wheel. a small smile on his lips and eyes on the road, glancing over at you often. but every once and a while he reached between your legs, rubbing your core as he felt you get wetter and needier, wanting desperately to see you get lost in the pleasure.

at this point, you try your best to keep your legs squeezed together, pretending you aren’t getting more and more excited by the minute.

jeonghan chuckles as he pulls his fingers away before putting them in his mouth, sucking, “come on baby, let me make you feel good.”

“can i, please?” he asks, with a low voice, words heavy and dripping with pure lust.

he reaches for you again, making you sigh dramatically as you think about how you’ve been at it all day, until literally forty five minutes ago when you frantically got ready at the last possible minute.

“can i ask you a question?”

“mhm, angel?” he hums.

“don’t you ever… like, i don’t know, get tired?” you quip softly, referring to the last five times you’ve had sex today.

he bites down on his bottom lip, a gentle smile appearing across his handsome face as he shakes his head.

“fuck no…” a breathy sigh stops him for a moment.

“i’ll never get tired of you, baby,” he murmurs softly, taking one hand off the steering wheel again and slowly trailing his fingers up the inside of your thigh.

you can tell he’s getting hot and bothered as his jaw clenches and his gaze focuses straight ahead.

“shit, you drive me fucking crazy, y/n, you know that?”

“jeonghan… behave.” you warn, your tone shaky, as you struggle to keep your composure.

“how can i?” he rasps. “when you look so gorgeous and needy like this?” he glances at you from the corner of his eye, not really paying attention to the road.

“look at how easily you open up for me.” his hand inches higher and higher, wanting to touch every part of you and you let out an almost silent whimper at the feeling of his cold fingers.

you don’t speak.

he looks at you deadpanned. “it’s like you were made for this,” the tip of his fingers graze your clit, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when you flinch and whimper at his touch. “made for me.”

as butterflies erupt in your stomach, you can’t help but to blush at his comments as you lean back in your seat and allow him to have his way with you.

the sounds escaping your throat are near desperate in tone, breath and heart racing and your body is practically at his mercy with each moment he rubs you so slowly and gently.

jeonghan chuckles at your reaction, lips curved in a smirk noticing those rosy cheeks.

adorable, he thinks.

“i love the effect i have on you, baby,” he whispers in a dark tone contrasting perfectly to the light chuckle he’d managed just seconds before, “and, it’s mutual.”

then he lets his left hand glide up your inner thigh, his index and middle finger curling down to connect with his palm as he pushes your underwear to the side to hover right over your heat.

“so wet, fuck, i bet i could just…” and with no hesitation, he sinks his two extended fingers into your entrance. “…slip right in.”

the feeling makes your breath hitch and you can’t help but let out a loud moan, lifting your leg a little and spreading your legs wider for him.

jeonghan’s fingers move around in a scissoring motion until they’re in you up to the knuckles. then, he curls his fingers, working on stretching you out.

“fuck!” you gasp, your hips jerking forward and riding his hand.

his fingers feels so damn good, but nowhere near as good as his cock, but still, you continue to ride his fingers— pretending they’re his dick.

“you’re so pathetic when you’re worked up, it’s cute. almost as if you like the excitement of getting caught.”

“you like that, yeah?” he growls, “random strangers driving by and finding out what my innocent, little slut gets off to?”

seeing him in this new environment and hearing the words leaving his mouth is doing something to you.

“want people seeing just how much you like it?”

you suck in a sharp breath, shaking your head a little as you bite your lip.

one look at you and jeonghan’s lips curls in a stupid smile, telling you that he doesn’t believe in you at all.

“god, you’re so easy to please, just a little dirty talk and you’re already gushing so much,” he says, allowing himself to smirk now as his thumb softly circles your clit a few times, heightening the pleasure you feel.

“oh my god, hannie…” you pant, your voice shaky, betraying some of the sensation you feel. “keep going.”

“my pathetic girl.” he watches as your thighs tremble before purring, “so gorgeous like this…”

you lean back, enjoying what’s being done to you by the gorgeous boy who’s supposed to be driving and truthfully doesn’t care much about the fact at all.

“you’re so good for me, baby. so beautiful.”

you lick your lips and close your eyes, dragging your hand down to his as his fingers smear your wetness around before sliding another finger into you.

“just like that…”

his thumb starts to rub your clit faster and faster.

“mhm, fuck, that feels so good,” you sniffle, so quickly overwhelmed by his words and actions.

your chest rises and falls faster, your breath quickens and you can’t help but let pathetic needy whimpers and moans slip out your mouth. you also can’t help but grind your hips against his hand as you tremble.

and, just as your hips starts to move along with the rhythm of his fingers, he pulls his hand back in a swift movement.

your eyes snap open and you glare at him with your eyes furrowed, shocked to see him struggling to get the button on his pants undone with his hand that’d just pulled away from you while simultaneously trying to steer.

it isn’t long before he loses his patience. “y/n, help,” he pleads with a soft moan and a pout in your direction.

reaching over the center console, you do as he asked without a word, unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them right afterwards so you can reach in and pull his hard cock out.

“suck,” he says sternly, but his expression is anything but that. you kiss his cock from base to tip, earning a praised moan when you lick a long stripe up just to suckle at the tip. jeonghan thrusts helplessly, his free hand threading through your hair as he bucks into your mouth, letting out puffs of steam when you take it to the back of your throat. “fuckin’ good girl.”

you begin stroking him and he tries closing his eyes but you catch him just in time.

“jeonghan!” you scold him again, only now you’re dead serious, “keep your eyes on the road or i’ll stop.”

as soon as the threat leaves your mouth, he immediately opens his eyes and focuses back on the road, letting shallow little breaths out in the mean time.

you suddenly feel nervous, before you even think about trying to start up again as jeonghan usually is a little spastic when you do things like this, but by the way he moans your name and begs you to keep going after a few seconds, he makes up your mind for you.

leaning over to his seat, you don’t hesitate for another second before licking his tip and sucking his head into your mouth.

you listen to the guttural moans escaping him as you suck on it as hard as you possibly can, running your fist up and down his smooth shaft and feeling the thick veins with your fingers as they pass.

jeonghan breathes heavily in anticipation of you letting him deeper, but you stay in your current spot near his head, teasingly swirling your tongue around it and licking a stripe up the side of him just with the tip if your tongue.

“fuck… princess, please…” he gasps.

just a few seconds later, you can feel the pressure of his heavy hand on the back of your head and you merely comply, taking in more of his thick length.

jeonghan inhales sharply and let out a few grunts, clearly not believing that you’d give up so easily. he’s so lost in it, head spinning from the sensations of your mouth squeezing him so invitingly, near perfectly. he feels heat pool in his stomach and gasp against glass, breath fogging up the window.

as soon as you start bobbing your head, you suddenly feel the car swerve and you try sitting up, but his grip on your hair tightens and his hips rises to meet your mouth again.

“don’t stop, i-i got it,” he moans as his teeth grazes his bottom lip, “ah… shit— fuck, sorry babe.”

you simply trust his word for it and take the rest of his solid length in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing even faster than before.

jeonghan lets out heavy breaths as you relax your throat, allowing him to slide further in. his hips bucks lightly against your face, thrusting his cock further and further into your mouth.

soon the car is filled with his loud moans.

you try your best to ignore the growing heat between your thighs but, your cunt is soaked and your arousal is dripping down your legs.

it’s all because of his words, fingers and moans— they’d fucked your mind.

you need to release the sexual tension he’d built.

with slickness growing between your legs, you part them, slipping your fingers up under your dress to your pussy as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

“you touching yourself, baby?” jeonghan rasps, tilting his head to better see the view.

you spare a hum, drooling saliva carelessly running from your chin, stuffed so full of him.

“fuckin’ dirty girl…”

sinking two fingers in yourself, you easily slip them through your slick and circle your clit, enough for him to hear how wet you are and how much you want him.

at this point, he’s a moaning mess beneath you and he holds you there for a while, his stomach tightens before you finally feel the car come to a stop.

pulling you off of his dick, you sit up to look at him but his lips seems to be on yours as soon as he slides out of your mouth. you kiss unhurriedly, as if you’ve got all the time in the world to taste the remnants of mint in jeonghan’s mouth, and hints of jeonghan’s precum and strawberries in yours.

he can’t help but smile blissfully into the kiss, wasting no time in trapping your bottom lip in between his soft ones. all he can focus on is the plump of your lips, the way your tongue moves, your salivas mixing, and your hands clinging to each other not wanting to separate.

he has nothing on his mind but you, you, you.

you let out a muffled moan, letting his tongue through immediately and lacing your fingers through his black hair as you try crawling over the center console and onto his lap.

but of course, your sweet little moment had to be interrupted by jeonghan prying his mouth from yours and just two seconds later, he’s pulling you on top of him as he sits waiting in the back seat.

he’s going so fast, you don’t even notice him stroking his stiff dick that’s standing at attention in between the both of you with one hand. he grabs your ass with the other, slapping it before soothing it with his hand.

“how did i get so lucky?” he asks with the tiniest groan as he buries his face in your neck.

you take hold of his cock and stop him from jerking himself off only to start doing it again yourself. he lets out a hoarse grunt of your name as you make him see stars. “wanna fuck you so good, princess,” he rasps in between neck kisses as his hand gropes your butt, “can i?”

dropping his head back against the seat, his other hand makes it’s way to your boob, lightly squeezing it.

“hmm, i don’t know, hannie,” you smirk. “i’m still a little sore.” you shrug as your hand begins to slow down.

you’re of course only half joking, just wanting to see how long it’d take him to finally crack once and for all, and, you don’t have to wait long, seeing as the second the words left your mouth, he runs his hands up from your ass to your hips and pushes you down so that you’re laying under him.

“yeah? i’ll show you sore,” he growls, hitching your legs up past his hips as you try to sit up again. jeonghan only pushes you back down, tending to his pants and pushing them down past his muscular thighs.

you feel his fingers rip your panties off, then he pulls the material of your dress all the way up to your tits and you brace yourself before he finally pushes himself deep inside of your tight entrance.

you don’t know how you were craving him so bad when you’ve already had him so many times today already, but whenever he acts like this, so dominant and in control, you just can’t help but to go along with whatever he wants.

you whimper his name and he can’t deny that the soft sound of your voice ridden with lust is the hottest thing he had ever heard.

“fuck pretty girl, you think you can take all of me?”

jeonghan doesn’t even bother to slow down for you to get used to the intrusion, but you don’t complain as you’re on a time crunch after all.

once he’s fully seated within you, he wraps his free arm around your back and tugs you towards him while he meets you for each fast and deep thrust. his fingers digs into your thighs, thrusting faster and deeper as he tries his best to hold in multiple groans and grunts that seem to want to come at once.

“god, you feel so good,” you cry at the stretch of him as you grab fistfuls of his hair and rack your nails through it. your breath stutters with each inch he pushes into you.

jeonghan’s heart hammers in his chest as your pussy clenches around him. every plunge of his dick into your drenched cunt brings him closer and closer to his orgasm and he isn’t sure how much longer he can last when you make him feel this good.

“you’re so big, jeonghan, it’s stretching me out… fuck, feels s-so good. keep fucking me just like that, please.”

he groans before pressing one hand up against the steamy car window, keeping the other on your hip as he slams into you as hard as he can, causing you to dig your nails into his chest.

“i’m so deep baby, fuck.”

“shit—ngh, i feel you in my stomach,” you mewl.

“fuck, princess,” he grunts as he watches you respond and wither to his movements beneath him, “you like that?”

“what do you want me to do?” he manages to hum as one of his hands detaches itself from your hip to slide it’s way up your stomach and under your dress, hiking it up further.

you whine out an obscenity in response, bucking your hips frantically as he continues to run his fingers all over your upper body and, against your skin that started to collect sweat.

he reaches up, taking your face in his hands and squishing your cheeks together. “use your words, slut.”

his lips are so dangerously close to yours it makes your brain foggy. “have i already dumbed you down so hard that you’re so far gone and can’t even speak?”

“mmmh please, hannie,” you slur through squished cheeks. “fuck, please just, nggh—you can do whatever you want to me.” you sob, not really making sense in between babbles and the lewd sticky sound of his balls slapping against your clit.

he perks up at that, tilting his head as a mischievous smirk cracks across his lips, wanting nothing more than to release all his pent-up arousal on you.

“yeah, baby?” he huffs as he angles his cock just a little differently and you gasp appreciatively, your stomach contracting. “you’re gonna let me ruin you until you cry? fill you with my cum and fuck a baby into you?”

“yes!”

“say it.” his voice is flat and stern, an intonation that pierces through your sheepish self. you part your lips wider and do so, just as he orders you to, a smirk of satisfaction following suit once his wish is finally fulfilled.

all of a sudden, he happens to brush against the spot that drives you wild, causing you to let out a loud moan whilst arching your back.

“right… right there, fuck,” you moan, letting out a gasp when he hits your g-spot.

jeonghan’s thrusts pick up in speed, focusing on every thrust of his tip against your sweet spot. his hands grips shakily at your hips as he settles inside and he feels his body already begging for release from the way your walls clench around him.

“you’re tightening up so much,” he grunts, “fuck, you’ll make me cum inside of you.”

it’s so tempting, the trivial idea of getting you knocked up makes a shiver run down his spine, eyes widening at the broken beg and flutter of your cunt. “dirty fuckin’ slut, you want that, don’t you?” he growls, eyes darkening as he rolls his hips harder. “want me to fuck you over and over, just to make sure i fuck some babies into you?”

“y-yes, mmhm please….”

then he thrusts deeper, determined to drive you wild as he begins rolling his hips, a devious smirk plastered on his face when your head nearly hits the door. “what are you begging for, baby? hmm?”

in your defence you try to respond the proper way once he starts slowing down, but he hunches over you, pulling your torso as close to his as humanly possible and managing to brush against that spot inside of you again.

“fuck, feels so good… more—” you gasp, your breath getting caught in your throat as you feel the tension in your stomach increasing, your cunt tingling as jeonghan fucks you harder.

you busy yourself with tangling your fingers in his now messy hair. “hannie i… i want m..more.”

you suddenly feel compelled to reach your climax when he sticks his long fingers in your mouth, causing you to gag a little around then, “more?” he questions sadistically before he lets a low growl escape him, “you want more inside huh? is that what you want? greedy fuckin’ whore.”

you force yourself to hold back a gasp as you hum around his fingers, sucking at them like a woman starved. at first you really didn’t know what you were asking for exactly, but now that his fingers are in your mouth, you really don’t care to think.

when you finally glance up at him, you instantly feel your pussy clench at the sight; his hair is sticking in several directions, his hooded eyes are blackened and glossy with desire, his plump lips swollen and curved in an incredible grin.

“there we go, angel…” jeonghan breathes, a bit of mint still left on his breath, “now i can watch.”

“my messy baby,” he coos as you drool all over his fingers while sucking them.

jeonghan feels so connected to you.

surely this is what it means when two hearts beat at the same time. every facet of his being melds with yours as his thrusts turns frantic; his mind fogging and he can barely concentrate on holding off his own orgasm as his stupid necklace beats against his chest. it’s fucking up his entire rhythm, distracting him from what matters most— pleasing you, making you feel good.

he quickly grabs the chain, bringing it to his mouth and biting it before he feels you clench around him as he did, and it almost topples him.

you begin whimpering again, sucking his fingers as your head falls back. you move your mouth away from his fingers and towards his lips.

“j…jeonghan,” you mewl, moaning and that one, breathless gasp is enough as his breath falters and his hips snaps up into yours. “kiss me.”

you pant through parting lips as you look up at him and feel your orgasm beginning to approach, “i’m s-so close, baby, fuck— i’m really, really close.”

letting go of his necklace, he feels your cunt tighten as pleasure flashes through his eyes, but his grin never falters as he shakes his head, “wanna watch that pretty face of yours of when you cum…” jeonghan pauses, losing his composure again when your hips begin working against him. “…fuck.”

“oh my god, oh my god, jeonghan…ahh, ngh—right there!” you babble, tightening your grip as he thrusts harder, but never speeding up.

“baby, please. make me cum.” you breathe shakily once you feel like you’re nearing the edge.

one of his hands grabs onto your jaw and neck and he quickens his pace, his hand gripping your throat, squeezing until you’re lightheaded and completely fucked out.

jeonghan thrusts deeper into you and uses you like a rag doll as his hips slams into yours, his thick cock hitting all the right spots inside of you.

“please, fuck, don’t stop. don’t stop,” you nearly scream, knowing you won’t be able to hold your release when you feel your legs trembling.

his hand cup your cheek roughly, fingers still wet with your spit as he brings you closer before motioning you to open your mouth, “say aah.”

you oblige almost immediately and he spits in your mouth, savoring the way you moan against his saliva before swallowing it. “good fuckin’ girl.”

your voice is barely above a whisper when you speak, “i’m gonna cum, hannie i’m gonna— fuck.”

“yeah? cum for me, baby.” he coos, his teeth nipping at your lip. his abs clenches and his thrusts turns frantic— he’s going to cum soon, and he isn’t going to be able to hold back. “be my good girl and cum for me.”

in that moment you feel yourself let go as you let out a scream, euphoria washing over you.

your back arches so high off the seat, bracing yourself against the car door as you throw your head back in pleasure, screaming his name over and over and over as your orgasm washes over you.

“just like that, princess,” he groans, your thighs clenching around his waist, but he doesn’t stop fucking into you. “shit, you’re so fucking sexy.”

“mhm want you to cum too,” you slur, your cunt pulsing around him, practically dragging his own orgasm from him. “cum inside of me, please hannie,” you plead, biting your lip. “i need you to.”

“fuck, fuck,” he growls over and over, biting his lip in an attempt to suppress a moan. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck… y/n—” he gasps loudly, his cock twitching inside of you. “come here— comeherecomeherecomeherecomehere,” he urges, his lips crashing into yours.

you listen to him holding his breath before he twitches, letting it out seconds later in a grunt and a moan as he pumps his hot cum into you, painting your walls with his release before his hips stutters, fucking it even deeper until both of you’re twitching from overstimulation.

“god, you’re so perfect,” he pants against your lips.

when he finally goes limp on top of you, you both have a chance to try to catch your breaths as you’re barely holding onto him, more spent than you’ve ever been in your entire life. jeonghan, of course is placing light and messy kisses after kisses on your jaw and collarbone and you’re sure you won’t so be able to have so much sex in one day ever again.

when you both finally get your breathing in check, you’re surprised to hear a knock coming from the window above you.

jeonghan pulls away from you and looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, silently asking you just what you wanted to ask him.

you shrug your shoulders before hearing it again and just after it stops, you notice a light shining into you car, “police. is everything alright in there?”

“shit,” he whispers, pushing himself off of you and quickly pulling his pants back up, stuffing his dick back inside of them before helping you sit up.

you scramble to get yourselves in order before getting back in your seats. then he catches his breath before turning the car back on and rolling down the window.

sure enough, there’s a cop on the other side, “having car trouble?” the older man asks.

“oh, no no sir, we just…uhm…” you cut in before jeonghan can, hoping to have an excuse to feed to the police officer before he takes in the foggy windows and jeonghan’s tousled appearance.

“we were just making a phone call.” jeonghan answers confidently, clearly thinking he came up with the best excuse.

you know it’s a terrible lie and you can tell the officer does too, but he seems to brush it off after finding something very interesting on the hem of your dress that catches his eye. all three of you follow his line of sight to see a rather recognisable glob of nearly pasty, clear liquid.

great.

“sure you were,” the officer says as you both look back up at him, “just go on, but if i find you parked on the side of the road again i’m going to have to take you in. both of you.”

jeonghan merely nods without a word before the officer nods back while you immediately tend to the evidence on your clothes, getting a tissue from the glove box and wiping it off.

he starts the car and pulls onto the road with a chuckle which makes you look up at him immediately.

“what’s so funny?” you ask seriously, stopping your actions.

“i just… i just can’t believe that happened.” he laughs loudly, looking over at you from the corner of his eye, “we could have been arrested, you know.”

furrowing your eyebrows at him, you manage to let out a loud giggle yourself after a while of letting the situation sink into your mind. well, it was kinda funny… perverted and awkward, but still funny.

smiling, you lean into his side and peck his cheek, sighing in content and enjoying the last few minutes you have with him alone before you arrive at your destination.

feedback is always appreciated 🧡

[stars-for-circe]

Student teacher!Abby Headcannons

Part 1, Part 2

tags / cw: AFAB reader, reader has a sister, fluff, making out, swearing, smut, mentions of tribbing, mentions of oral sex, mentions of fingering, carnival date, student teacher!Abby

Student teacher!Abby who spends the next fortnight absolutely enthralled with the image of you - butterflies in her stomach that she had met you once, and storm clouds over her head that she had met you once. God, how the fuck could she forget to ask for your number like that? I mean what was she, some shy middle schooler confronting her crush??

…Pretty much.

Student teacher!Abby who tries her hardest to keep on teaching despite the fact, distracting herself with making activities for each science class and staying later than usual to mark books each day. But Abby who, upon noticing the students trail out of the class as the main teacher packs up, realises she had once again stayed until pickup, could now only think of you, and of how the two of you had met.

Student teacher!Abby who realises that this is how you two met, and holy shit this is how you two could need again. And just like that, 2 weeks of distracting herself break down, you now on the forefront of her mind once more. And she thanks whatever god is up there that your little sister happens to be the student she is closest and talks with the most, because trying to find her solely to ask when you may be picking her up again will hopefully seem less suspicious and fruity than she thought.

Student teacher!Abby who wastes no time darting out of the building and to the cul-de-sac next to the school - work be damned - as she tries to find your little sister. If she’s fast enough, she’ll be able to catch her before she gets picked up by her dad.

Student teacher!Abby who freezes when she notices what car the girl gets into, belonging not to some random middle aged man, but a woman - you. And initially, Abby contemplates turning around and heading back into the classroom before anyone sees her. But then she watches as your head turns in her direction, following where your sister is now pointing at, and she has no choice now but to walk up to your car and talk to you both.

Student teacher!Abby who walks up to the drivers side while calling out your name and is met with a shocked but seemingly happy look from you (and on your end, you’re just all giddy that your sister’s smoking hot teacher remembered you)

Student teacher!Abby who doesn’t know what to say after finally meeting you again and groans internally because fuck, she didn’t think this far, trying to save herself by engaging in small talk - the traffic, how your sister is going on class, the goddamn weather even-

“-A Date”

“…..what?”

“We-” you clear your throat.

“We should go on a date, Abby”

Student teacher!Abby who agrees entirely too fast (much to your amusement) thankful that you interrupted her with your proposition. But then she realises that you hasn’t decided on where and when. Nervously, her eyes flit around for any ideas - because there’s no fucking way she’s taking you on a boring coffee date - and she noticed the Ferris wheel in the distance, about 7 blocks away.

Student teacher!Abby who asks if you like carnivals, to which you let out a breathy laugh at what she’s insinuating before nodding. She leans over the side of your car, resting her arms against the roof while smiling.

“Uh, is Saturday good for you?”

“Mhm. I can meet you there at around 6”

“You got it, babygirl”

Student teacher!Abby who smirks at the reaction that gets out of you as she stands back to let you drive out, noticing your sister giving her a thumbs up from the backseat (that makes her laugh) and once you’re a ways away she drops the whole “cool” facade and panics because holyshitshejustscoredadatewithyou.

Student teacher!Abby who spends the rest of the week thinking about what she’ll wear and say and what the both of you will do at the carnival.

Student teacher!Abby who keeps bugging your sister during recess on your favourite food and favourite stuffed animals in the hopes that she can win you those prizes, to the point where the poor first grader gets so fed up that she rolls her eyes at her teacher’s antics.

“I heard my sister say to her friend that she’s ‘really gay’ for you or something. I dunno what that means but I don’t think you need to worry that much, Miss Abby”

Student teacher!Abby who chokes on her coffee at that.

Student teacher!Abby who waits for you at the carnival entrance, checking the time every other second and nervously shifting her stance until you arrive. And when you do, it takes a moment for Abby to remember how to breathe because of how beautiful you look.

Student teacher!Abby who makes a joke about how you got all dressed up for her and you playfully push her away while laughing as the two of you walk into the carnival grounds.

Student teacher!Abby who takes you to the food stands first, asking what you want to eat & drink before buying it for you - there’s no way she’d let you pay for anything tonight and she makes that quite clear, much to your protest.

Student teacher!Abby who find you both a spot to sit down at before setting down your food and locking eyes with you from across the table.

“Nice view?” She jokes.

“Yea, actually” Abby lets out a huff of laughter before shaking her head. You join in before repeating what you said.

“I’m serious! Abby you’re like, really pretty”

“Yea well, your sister already told me you thought that”

Student teacher!Abby who breaks down into an even bigger fit of laughter as she watches your face turn into one of shock and embarrassment as you promise that your sister won’t ever see the light of day again.

Student teacher!Abby who really enjoys talking to you as you both eat, hanging onto every little thing you say. You share that your sister is actually adopted, and that you moved to this city only a couple years ago, and she shares that her full name is actually Abigail, and that she wants to teach in a high school later on.

Student teacher!Abby who keeps on talking with you long after the food has been eaten, until you both agree to check out all the rides and games.

Student teacher!Abby who lets you drag her to the high striker game, where you have to hit the hammer down as hard as you can to win the prize. She lets you go first, and watches as the puck makes it fairly high up the tower before falling again, winning you a small rubber duck.

Student teacher!Abby who goes right after you, hitting the hammer down hard. But this time the puck rises all the way to the top, winning her the biggest prize. She looks at the staff member who stares at her incredulously before handing over the giant stuffed teddy bear.

Student teacher!Abby who immediately gives it to you, promising that this is only just the first thing she’ll win you.

Student teacher!Abby who plays almost every other game and goes on all the rides with you that night, and walks out of the carnival with you while you’re holding the largest stuffed animal collection on earth.

Student teacher!Abby who follows you to your car and helps put all of the stuffed animals in the trunk. And holy shit, she tries not to stare at your ass as you bend over to place them inside. She helps you close the door before leaning against the car, looking at you in thought.

Student teacher!Abby who doesn’t speak at first, the only noises being from the carnival and the crickets chirping in the car park. She traces your features with her eyes - still adjusting to the dark night compared to the bright lights of the carnival - before asking softly if you had fun.

Student teacher!Abby whose gaze sinks down from your eyes, lower, lower, as you match her tone and say that yes, you did, and that you’d love to do this again.

Student teacher!Abby who is too busy glancing at your lips to realise that you’re doing the exact same thing, until you whisper a soft “c’mere” as you pull her by her shirt and kiss her hard, lips moving in tandem with eachother as her hands trail up and down your back, drawing small noises out of you.

Student teacher!Abby who pins you against your car and pulls away to take a breath, before kissing you once more.

Student teacher!Abby who groans as she feels you tugging lightly on her braid, moving her kisses down your jawline and to your throat. And in between every kiss and suck and mark she leaves there, she asks lowly, her place? Or yours?

Student teacher!Abby who can’t for the life of her keep her hands off of you as she drives your car to her apartment, pinning you to the car, and the elevator, and her front door as you make your way in. And when you pin her to the wall of her hallway, she lets out a surprised gasp into your mouth before telling you to jump up.

Student teacher!Abby who waits until your legs are wrapped around her waist until moving her hands to your ass and walking to her bedroom. And maybe she was a little rough when she slammed her door shut and threw you on her bed, but Jesus Christ did it you on.

Student teacher!Abby who made sure you came so many times that night, until you couldn’t feel your legs afterwards. Making sure that you would remember how her tongue and fingers felt in you, against you, on you.

Student teacher!Abby who let you take the lead after she had her way with you, letting you touch her just as much. And the sight of you, all beautifully fucked out and breathy as you rubbed your clit on hers, would now be forever imprinted on her brain.

Student teacher!Abby who made sure to clean you both up afterwards, and then pull you on top of her to sleep. Well, not before sleepily making out with you again, but cmon, it’s not like she could resist.

Student teacher!Abby who wakes up before you, watching how the early days of sunshine scatter across your face. She traces circles on your naked back until you wake up. Groggily, you regain your bearings and remember where you are as you look at Abby and smile

And finally,

Student teacher!Abby who thanks the fucking lord that she got moved to the elementary school to teach.

[kakujis]

do you love me? 2;

synposis: they wake you up at 3am to ask if you love them. pt 1 here. 3 + 4

warnings: gn!reader, clingy bfs, no set timeline, kazutora's is a lil sad, insecurities, implications of cheating(there is none tho). not proofread!

feat: kakucho, kazutora, izana.

a/n: after i wrote the first part, i wanted to do the same thing but switched! this is the most flowery, fluttery, butterflies searching for a drink type beat drabble i've ever written. i haven't written like this in a while soo i hope it makes sense lol. the tone of kaku's is a lil different because i started his first oops! also big ty to @fuyuluvr for helping me finish izana's bit. ♡

kakucho had never once doubted you, not when you’ve told him he’s the sun and the moon and the reason why the stars gather in the night sky, cheesy words always getting a hot blush on his face. how could he, when you’ve barreled through the doors of your shared apartment to jump into his waiting arms, peppering kisses along his jaw, whines of “i missed you! i missed you!”. 

but it’s hard lately when he finds you and rindou with hushed voices at the gym, sitting on a bench, sheepish grins on your faces when he approaches to ask what the two of you have been talking about. 

“nothing!” you exclaimed, slipping your phone back into your pocket, scooting farther from the blonde beside you. “i’m gonna head out okay? i’ll see you later.” you exchanged one more glance with rin who nodded to you. kakucho remembers the surprised look on your face, when he pulled you into a particularly tight hug pressing his lips to your forehead, “see you at home,” you said, eyes softened before breaking free and walking out. 

he tried his best to not pry throughout his workout, tried his best to not get angry when rindou asked, “you alright?” when he noticed the particularly quick responses that kakucho was throwing at him. 

“yeah, i’m fine.” he assured, fighting the urge to accuse his friend of anything nefarious. but man was it hard with this little nail in his heart hammering away at his insecurities and worst fears. maybe it was time to take izana’s advice and “just ask them about it.” 

and that’s how he ended up here, sitting awake at 3am listening to the tick of a clock. even in your sleep you clung on to him, drooling and snoring on his arm. 

gently, he reaches over to shake your shoulder. the shift made you cling harder, eliciting a whine from your sleepy state. kakucho chuckles, before he shakes a little bit harder, already feeling a little silly at his concerns. 

“you awake yet?” he asks when you finally start to blink your eyes and glance up at him. 

“hi,” you yawn, using your hand to wipe at your drool, “what time is it?” you prop yourself up, squinting at the clock on the wall. 

“like 3am.” he says, unable to hold back the smile on his face as he studies your sleepy expression.  

“hmm? why are we awake then?” you yawn again, droopy lids starting to fall again, but kakucho stops you before you’re able to fall asleep. 

“wait,” he mutters, pulling you up so that you’re pressed against his chest and facing him. he places his hands on the sides of your cheeks, staring straight into your drowsy eyes. “do you love me?” 

the question catches you off guard, you’ve never seen him so serious before. there’s a crease in his brow and his heterochromatic eyes hold something like worry, something that’s scared, as if you’d say no. 

you blink off the sleep that once riddled your bones before scowling, “kaku.. what kinda question is that? of course i love you.” you assert, squirming until you’re straddling him. you place your hands on top of his own, prying one down to lace with your fingers. “why?” 

he looks away, burning under your gaze, “it’s nothin’,” he mumbles, dropping his other hand from your face. but since you’re fully awake now, the haze of sleep gone, you catch on fast, the wheels in your head rewinding back to earlier that day at the gym.

“ohh,” you hum, removing your hand from his and cupping his face this time so that he’ll look at you. “is this because of earlier? with rindou?” 

“maybe..” he says, eyes darting away from yours, “it’s just weird you don’t want me to hear what you two are talking about and it’s also not the first time so...” 

you sigh, climbing off of him and reaching over to the nightstand on your side of the bed to grab your phone. settling back next to him, you unlock the screen and click on your messages. you wiggle your phone at him adding, “i’ve got nothing to hide, see?” before you open the texts with rindou:

y/n: HEY

rindou 🙄: hi

y/n: IS PROJECT KAKUCHO STILL A GO??

rindou 🙄: project kakucho??? 

y/n: dont tell me u forgot… his birthday is coming up!!!

the conversation continues with the plans the two of you had made specifically for kakucho’s birthday, the venue, the people invited, what kind of cake you should get, etc. you scroll slowly, periodically glancing up at your boyfriend as the blush on his face deepens. probably from a mixture of embarrassment and the way every mention of his name has some type of adjective describing how cute he is. 

“see? i wanted to surprise you.” you say, beginning to hand the phone over, “you can scroll up even earlier if you want.” 

“no, i trust you…” he says before taking your phone and putting it down on the nightstand. “sorry, that was sort of stupid of me.” honestly, he had completely forgotten about the occasion, it was just another day for him. 

you shake your head, “well.. i can’t blame you. if i’m thinking about it from your perspective, i’d probably be a little suspicious too.” 

he blinks, caught off guard by the way you agreed without a hint of sarcasm. “really?” 

you nod, “yup… especially if i didn’t trust my partner, cmon now! rindou?” you tease and he groans out another “sorry.” 

“couldn’t you have thought i had a crush on one of your cute friends?” you scoff, crossing your arms. 

“rindou is cute though.” he says quickly and matter of fact, not really processing what he’s just said. 

“huh?”

“he’s… y’know, he’s good looking.” he repeats, gesturing with his hands and glancing down at you. your face is unreadable as you take in the information, those little gears in your head turning again. 

“hm. well, if he’s so good looking then you should totally date him.” you joke, trying your best to keep a straight face. 

“that’s not what i meant!” kakucho exclaims, running his hands down his face and you laugh. 

“gimme my phone, i’ll set you up.♡” you chime, holding your hand out. “besides i think he’s into you too! totally checks you out at the gym.” 

“can you stop?!” 

kazutora: 

kazutora has an annoying little habit, where he doubts if you really love him, which culminates in late night questioning. you’ve assured him many times before that you don’t mind, you’ll tell him as many times as he wants and you’ll reassure him whenever he’s doubtful, but he hates it. this little worm of insecurity that digs its way through his stomach, his chest, until it makes it up into his brain, shaking and bouncing off it’s walls until he can’t take it anymore. 

he hates this feeling, more so because he knows it’s stupid, he knows there’s no reason for it, there’s never been any indication for it and yet, he still cries or lashes out because of it. like maybe he's not that good of a person, maybe he's not what you need, and maybe he'll never be enough. what better time for insecurity to sink it’s fangs in than the dead of night? 

he rolls over, cheek squished against the pillow. reaching over to quickly pull you closer to him, back against his chest. you shift a little, rousing out of sleep, tilting your head up towards his with a little curl of a smile. it’s so easy to read him now and pick up on his mood changes, but you think nothing negative, instead feeling warm that sometimes he’s so vulnerable with you, searching for his security like a child looking for their favorite blanket. 

“hi tora,” you mumble, voice heavily laced with sleep, “what’s wrong baby?” he doesn’t answer at first, the only response to you being an even tighter squeeze under his muscled arms. you respond back, wriggling under his touch, pressing so far into him it’s as if the two of you are trying to mold together and become one. 

“do you love me?” he asks, voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“i’ve never loved anything more,” you proclaim and kazutora gives a little needy whine while his hands start to wander up the expanse of your skin and you giggle as his touch tickles you under the sheets. 

“you’d pick me every time?” he asks, the heaviness in his heart lightening with each breathy giggle of “that tickles!” but it’s his way of comforting himself, whether it’s running his hands over your bare skin or inserting them into your jacket pockets while he holds you from behind, kazutora finds solace in the warmth of your body. 

“mhm! every time, without a doubt! now stop!” you say in between laughs, desperately trying to push his hands off of you but he’s stronger, hands curling into the plush fat of your side and you yelp. “toraa!” 

“hmm?” he teases, continuing his relentless assault. but the way you’re kicking and squirming has his hold on you weakening. you’re unable to fully control your movement, thrashing as your elbow flies back, hitting him right in the stomach. “ow, fuck!” he groans, releasing you and rolling over. he grimaces as he places a hand where you hit him, curling inwardly on himself. 

out of breath, you roll onto your knees, sitting up while you scoot closer to him. one hand rests on your side, aching from your previous uncontrollable laughter. 

“not my fault.” you pant when he glances up at you with puppy dog eyes. “i told you to stop.” you roll your eyes at him, but the pout gracing his face persists and you give in. you bend over, brushing away stray blonde locks from his face before you bend down and give him a kiss. “sorry.” 

“s’okay,” he grins, eyes crinkling as he pulls you back down into his embrace. there’s a few minutes of silence, the only noise being the occasional swivel of fabric underneath your feet as readjust every so often. “you really meant it, right?” he asks, breaking through the silence, that pesky little worm still rearing it’s ugly head in his thoughts.

“every word.” you reply, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. you place a finger on his lips as you continue, hoping to dispel the rest of his worries. “in any dimension, in any lifetime. if i could live a thousand lives, i’d pick you every time.” 

he blinks before he’s pushing your head down to rest on his chest. there’s no vocal response, instead only the tremble of his body as his grip on you turns crushing, one hand’s fingers intertwined with the tresses of your hair. you realize now that it was due to his embarrassment, a silent plea to just this once, not look at him as his relief spills out as fat, droplet tears that run down his face and onto yours. but it’s okay, you’ve always embraced the rain. 

izana:

izana thinks its insane every time you pull at the that strings that hold together his weary heart. but you pluck at them with each call of his name that rolls off your tongue like a siren call, entrancing and pulling him towards you and only you. with those vibrations he seeks you like a moth to a flame, fluttering towards your light and basking in the glow. 

heavy and sluggish, he trudges up the stairs to your shared apartment inwardly cursing about how late it is. the plan is to take a shower and get in bed as quietly and quickly as possible. you’re definitely asleep by now, so he tries his best to enter silently, not wanting to wake you. but as he tiptoes into your bedroom, the sight of you asleep huddled under the covers as you hug izana’s pillow has him falling onto the bed, gently taking the pillow from your arms and replacing it with himself. 

you scrunch your face as you awaken, heavy lidded eyes blinking and adjusting to the blurry image of izana before you. pretty lavender eyes watch you with a small upturned grin that grows wider at your, “mm?” the chirrup of your voice like the birdsongs in the morning. izana thinks you’re the prettiest melody, better than any song on the radio or classical composition. 

“good morning.” he says and you tilt your head quizzically, squinting at the alarm clock on your nightstand, the lull of sleep still beckoning you over. 

“it’s 3am, zana,” you whine when you read the red blink of numbers, trying to roll over but he holds you still, arms wrapped around your hips. 

he shrugs, a smirk on his face. “and?” 

“and i was sleeping.” you mumble, irritation lacing through your voice before frowning and closing your eyes. 

the quirk of his grin falls, settling into a line, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. he knows he came home late and he knows it’s probably annoying to be woken up, yet he was hoping you’d still be excited to see him, to be with him.

“do you love me?” he asks, knowing it’s a dumb question. your reaction is normal, but being around you makes him feel abnormal, and he’s so greedy for everything you’ve got. he thinks you’ll reprimand him again for keeping you awake, but instead you hum when he starts to caress your face, the pad of his thumb running over your skin in airy strokes.

“mhm. i love, love you.” you reply, happily keening up into his touch, pressing your cheek further into his hand. 

“say it again,” he says and you open one eye, quirking an eyebrow. you almost say, “really?” but the insecurity dancing in his eyes stops you and you comply.

“i love you.” you say again, a little louder this time. 

“again.” he commands.

“izana..” you huff. you know him, this could go on for hours if you gave in. 

“just one more time, please?” he pleads hanging onto his last word. he’s never told you, but this is his favorite song, the kind that always gets stuck on replay in his head. the one that he puts on to comfort him when the outside noise of daily life is a little too loud. 

“i love you.” you sigh, conceding and punctuating it with a quick peck on his lips and he grins. “happy now?” 

he nods, “i’ll never get tired of hearing that.” he presses a kiss to your cheek, letting you settle back into a more comfortable position. you lay with your back to his chest, as he cages you from behind. “now get some sleep, its late.” 

you’re quick to look back at him, eye brow raised in disbelief.  “you’re literally the one who woke me up?” 

“shh, that doesn’t matter, just go to sleep.” 

“but-“ 

“good night, love.” he interrupts, thinking that he should record it the next time you sing him such a pretty number. 

[ar4chn333]

“I Just Got You Back”

Michael Bluth x fem reader

Summary:

You and Michael shared your chaotic childhoods as best friends until your father moves your family away, devastating both of you. Twelve years later, you reunite. Convincing Michael to take the day off work, you revisit old memories…and make some spicy new ones. (2,473 words)

Contents:

Pörn with plot, p in v, praise, f!ngering, kinda tooth-rotty ngl, friends to lovers, x fem reader

Waiting anxiously a few feet from the door, you quickly fix your hair, pushing it behind your ear. Your mother steps ahead of you, giving the door three knocks before stepping back by your side.

“Let’s hope Lucielle has wine,” she chirps.

“Please,” you chuckle softly, careful not to be heard through the door. “If there’s one thing I remember about Lucielle, it’s the attitude–and the alcohol.”

“Amen,” your mom smiles in your direction, raising her eyebrows in anticipation, clearly excited to see her friend of over 40 years. Truthfully, you didn’t care much for Lucille. She was quite harsh and you remember her outright insulting you as a child but you didn’t mind if it meant you got to see Michael. The two of you spent long, hot summers in the Bluth banana stand, teasing each other, commiserating, and of course, half-assedly selling frozen bananas. You jump a little when the door to the model home swings open and out pops Lucielle who promptly hugs your mother then does the same to you.

“Got rid of that deadbeat husband, I see Jennifer?” Lucielle blurts.

“You should have seen the divorce party,” your mom retorts, giggling.

Lucille motions you two inside, making a bee-line into the kitchen to pour another drink. “You’re old enough to drink now, right?” she asks you. “Oh, yes, though I’ll have some later, thank you,” you reply. Lucielle rolls her eyes playfully as she takes a sip and hands your mom a glass. The two start chatting away and you prepare for a long night of third-wheeling two drunk middle-aged women. However, you hear footsteps coming from upstairs and a man’s voice, seemingly trailing up and down the upper floor plan. You wonder if it’s George, though the voice is much smoother than his, and you can’t make out many of the words. You turn back to the women’s conversation, deciding the mysterious noise is none of your business.

A few moments later you hear footsteps descending the stairwell. Whipping your head around, you see a man in a light blue button-up shirt, khaki pants, and a maroon tie with a phone up to his ear, which he promptly shuts upon landing on the first floor. He looks up. It takes a moment for your brain to register who he is, but when it finally does, you dart out of your chair.

“Michael! Oh my god!”

“y/n!”

He wraps you in a bear hug, nearly lifting you off of the floor. Senses overwhelmed by the scent of cologne and the warmth of his body, you sink into him ever so slightly. After a couple seconds you briefly pull away, your arms still on his, to look at him. He’s gorgeous and has grown into his stunning blue eyes perfectly.

“How long has it been? Ten-ish years?” He says, beaming.

“More like twelve,” you retort, having actually counted beforehand during the car ride over.

“Gosh, you’re beautiful,” he says softly before chuckling nervously, as if the comment were a knee-jerk reaction. He smiles sheepishly, hand traveling to the back of his head. “Thank you,” you reply blushing and looking away briefly, stomach alight with butterflies.

Michael pulls out his phone, holding it up. “I really wish I could stay and chat but I have to head back to the office–Gob is causing trouble again.”

“Oh lord, what this time?”

“Can I tell you tonight? I’ll be back around 7.”

“I see you’re grown into your work ethic too huh? That’s not the Michael I remember at the banana stand,” you chuckle.

“No kidding, I can’t seem to catch a break.”

“Are you sure you can’t take today off? We could go to the banana stand and walk around!”

“I’m sorry y/n, Gob’s a handful and I’ve got to take care of this.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tonight then,” you say fake-pouting. He awkwardly places his hand on your shoulder for a brief moment and begins to walk towards the door. “You’d think the place is imploding with the way he acts,” shouts Lucielle with every intention of Michael hearing it. He turns back around to glare at her before locking eyes with you. Perhaps childishly, you make a fake explosion sound with an accompanying dramatic gesture from your hands. He pauses for a moment, looking back at his phone, then once again at you.

“Screw it, let’s go.”

Smiling ear-to-ear, you hop into his car and head to the banana stand. Walking around, you exchange stories of your childhood together–the banana stand, the bike rides, and burns from attempting to operate the cornballer. Though you leave it unsaid, you once again feel the pain of being thirteen and leaving Michael behind when your Dad decided to set up his company headquarters far outside of California. The pit in your stomach begins to subside when you glance back at the banana stand as the two of you walk past. The night before you left, the two of you were stocking supplies when you began to cry about your life being uprooted and most of all, losing your best friend. He kissed you that night. Your first kiss ever–and his too. Leaving broke your heart.

The two of you grab dinner and you find him to be just as funny, charming, and awkward as you left him, only now, he was devastatingly handsome. You talk about your respective jobs, ambitions, and hopes over the food, collectively realizing how weird your childhoods were–but at least you had eachother for most of it.

The two of you pull into the driveway, and he opens the door for you as you exit the car with the sweetest smile on his face as he holds your hand to help you up. You see your mom’s car and figure she’s probably passed out along with Lucielle. “I think your ride is probably asleep,” says Michael. “You’re more than welcome to spend the night, we have a spare bedroom for you to use.”

“Thank you, I’m not drunk or anything, but it certainly wouldn’t be safe for me to drive, much less attempt to wake my mother,” you chirp.

He opens the door to the house slowly and lets you inside. The lights are off so you tip-toe around to the stairs. “Where’s the extra bedroom?” You ask.

“Up here and to the right–I’ll show you,” he replies.

“Oh, perfect,” you let out with a relieved sigh, flopping on the bed, certainly feeling the sedative effects of the alcohol. “Any chance I could get some clothes to sleep in?”

“Sure! I have a shirt you could wear.”

Michael walks out of the room–the light still off with you perched on the bed. You’d have to travel back to your place in the morning. Though it was only a couple of hours away, you felt like Michael was being taken away from you again and it hurt all the same. You wanted more of him–to be around him, to talk about nothing and everything…to touch him.

He walks back into the room with a baggy shirt in hand, backlit by the slight light of the hallway. Hopping up, you glide toward him, reaching your arms out. He hugs you deeply and you feel his heart through his chest and his breath on your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

“I feel like I just got you back,” he says, still embracing you. Slowly, he pulls away, his arms still wrapped around you. And for a brief moment, you just look at eachother. As if in sync, your faces move towards each other, his soft lips making contact with yours. He starts slowly, savoring every moment he tastes you, the texture of his stubble on your face making you melt. Pulling you in closer he deepens the kiss, smiling when an ever-so-slight sound escapes your lips. Your hand slides up his back, to his neck, and finally to his hair which you run your fingers through, gripping it slightly as he presses against you. The feeling of your hand on him causes him to breathe deeply against you, hungry for your touch.

“You’re burning up,” he says. You look at him concerned, cheeks and chest flushed a bright red. Eventually you realize what he means.

“It just means I’m enjoying this,” you chuckle, going in for another kiss. His hands trail farther down to your lower back and eventually to your hips. You let out a slight gasp as he pulls them towards his body. Almost out of instinct, you wrap your arms around his neck and jump, your thighs resting on his hips and your legs wrapped around him. Forearms on your legs, his hands cup your ass, giving it a squeeze as he carries you towards the wall. Back on the wall, you let out a moan as he leans into you. His lips trail from your jaw to your neck, sucking lightly against the tender skin. You feel him getting hard from inside his pants as your nails drag along the shirt on his back.

“I want you, y/n. And not just tonight–I want you with me. I can’t lose you again,” he whispers.

“You won’t lose me–you’re stuck with me now,” you giggle, pausing to lock eyes with him. You lean closer once again, lips almost touching his “So fuck me, Michael.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Spinning you around to the bed, he lays you down gently, once again trailing kisses down your neck. When he gets to your collarbone, his hands begin to reach up your shirt, fingers tracing along your ribs and to your tits. He lifts your shirt off, sitting up for a second to admire you laid out for him, legs around his hips. You get a little shy, covering your breasts with your arms but he pulls them away continuing his trail of kisses from your collar bone to your sternum and finally to your nipple. Your back arches at the sensation of his mouth, tongue circling and lips sucking. Moaning softly, your hands tug on the back of his shirt, eager to feel the skin of his torso against yours. You reach down to unbutton his shirt before stripping off his undershirt.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he coos. You look down at him as his lips continue down your body, his mouth emitting the smallest sounds as he licks and sucks, driving you wild. Kissing just before the band of your underwear, you let out a moan, desperate for him. “Good girl,” he whispers. His words send shivers down your body, your underwear now drenched in anticipation. Slowly, he pulls off your pants, noticing your legs shaking for him already. He puts his hand over your most sensitive region, looking up at your expression–brows furrowed and mouth agape at his touch.

“Fuck, Michael, you feel so good,” you whine.

“I haven’t even started yet,” he whispers deviantly.

His fingers trace along your pantyline, pulling them down at a painfully slow pace, causing you to squirm underneath him. Running a finger through your folds, you whimper at the pleasure.

“Please, Michael.”

At the sound of your words, his middle and index fingers begin to circle your clit. Your hand reaches to clench the bedsheets while the other occupies itself with his soft brown hair. Your back arches suddenly and you buck your hips against him. Your moans become louder but are soon muffled by his mouth against yours. “That’s my good girl, so sensitive.” No sooner than he finishes his sentence, he slips his fingers inside of you, thumb now circling your clit. Curling them, he hits your g spot as you claw at his back, body pulsating with pleasure. “You’re doing so well, baby. It feels like you’re ready for me,” he coos.

“Please, Michael, I want your cock inside me,” you moan, locking eyes with him. His pupils widen as you palm him through his pants, biting your lip. He lets out a groan, sounding almost like the growl of an animal as he grows painfully hard. Sitting up, he undoes his belt in front of you as your hands trace the inside of your thighs, ready for him. Slipping off his pants, he raises one of your legs over his shoulder. Locking eyes with you, his hand runs the tip of his cock along your folds as your head tilts back in pleasure. Lining up with your entrance, he presses slightly into you, gasping at the feeling of your pussy. His hips slowly descend towards yours, cock pressing further and further into you. You let out a small whimper at his size, but quickly adjust to take him in.

“Oh Michael,” you let out, along with a stream of unintelligible whimpers.

He begins to slide his cock in and out of you, slowly, as not to hurt you. The delicious sounds that escape his mouth ring distinctly in your ears, causing you to clench around his member. You look down to see his hips colliding into yours, your legs shaking around him, buzzing with warmth and electricity at the feeling of him inside of you. He moves faster, pushing into you with increasing force and eliciting yelps upon contact.

“Shh baby, we don’t want to wake them up,” he says while continuing to pound you. Clearly unable to hold in your sounds, he slips two fingers into your mouth and your lips close obediently around them. You taste yourself on his fingers, moans escaping in the form of high-pitched hums in rhythm with his strokes.

A knot begins to form in your stomach as he fucks you, winding tighter every time he slides his cock into you. His thrusts grow more erratic, his mouth agape, on the verge of unwinding. He then takes your other leg, placing it over his shoulder, causing his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you as you squirm and buck beneath him.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, pulling his fingers out of your mouth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Michael!” you yelp.

Warmth runs over your body and the string comprising the knot in your stomach is pulled on like a ripcord, unraveling furiously. Your body shakes and your whimpers break in time with his movement while an electrical current overtakes your body with pleasure. Michael follows soon behind, cumming as his moans echo in the room and his thrusts dissipate.

He rolls over beside you as your arms cling to him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I missed you so much–I missed my best friend,” you whisper.

“I missed you too, y/n,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Come biking along the beach with me tomorrow.”

“I would love that,” you whisper, smiling ear to ear.

Author’s note in comments💕💕💕

[tropes-and-tales]

I am really loving all the prompts you’re reblogging!

Could I request from the rivals/enemies prompts number 2, cursing the other but secretly being worried about them with either Vigilante or Ray Merrimen?

Have a great weekend!

The original plan was apparently to use Peacemaker to assassinate the alien life-forms known as Butterflies, but when Vigilante shows up—and never leaves—Murn assigns you as his handler.

Vigilante hates having a handler.

“I’m not a baby, dude,” he scoffs at you.  He’s embarrassed by how you don’t trust him, how you stick close to him.  “I don’t need you to hover over me.”

“I’m not your dude,” you retort.  “And I absolutely do have to hover over you, or else you might kill a jaywalker.”

“Jaywalking is against the law.”

“It is,” you concede.  “But it’s not punishable by death, Adrian.”

He grumbles behind his mask.  “Debatable,” he replies under his breath, but you catch it and roll your eyes.  “And don’t call me Adrian in public.  People can’t know my super-secret identity.”

He sees you glance around.  The two of you are in the thick forest behind the rural estate of a suspected Butterfly.  He sees you roll your eyes again before you say, “yeah, I’d hate for a squirrel to find out the busboy from Fennel Fields is an unmitigated psycho.”

“Dude, what—” he starts to reply, confused, but you shush him and point towards the house the two of you are watching.  He turns in time to see a group of people walking single file into the house.

“Butterflies,” you both say at the same time.

-----

You lay out the plan, which is—by Adrian’s estimation—complete bullshit.

Which is why he totally ignores the plan and does his own thing:  instead of cutting the communication to the house and then incapacitating the Butterflies with flash grenades, Vigilante….just blows the shit up.  He breaks cover and sprints away from you, armed with the explosives he smuggled into the trunk of your car before the two of you drove here.

“Adrian, don’t!” you yell, and you try to chase after him but you’re slower than him.  You haven’t dedicated your life to chiseling your body into an instrument of vengeance like he has, so he outpaces you easily.  

Vigilante’s improvised plan is a success.  Mostly.  He takes out the Butterflies and manages to save a hard drive that may have vital information on it.

He kinda blows himself up, though.  When he tosses the final two explosives behind him to finish off the job, one bounces weird.  It bounces back towards him, and when he tries to kick it back, the force of the first explosion sets it off.

What a badass way to die, he thinks as he sails through the air, partially on fire and in pain everywhere.  

Then the world turns black.

-----

He wakes up in the passenger’s seat of your car.  He aches everywhere.  His ears are ringing.  Everything is blurry until he gropes at the hidden pocket in his suit and pulls out his glasses—slightly bent—and sets them on his face with a hiss of pain.

He turns his head and looks over at where you sit in the driver’s seat.  You’re hunched over the wheel, knuckles white as you speed back to Evergreen.  

“Stupid,” you spit out, and if Adrian was just a touch more socially aware, he’d realize that your voice is shaky from fear—not anger.

“Stupid,” you repeat.  “You’re so fucking stupid.  Stupid and erratic and…and impulsive.  You blew yourself up!  You could have died!  What in the fuck were you thinking, Adrian?”

He can’t articulate what he was thinking beyond Peacemaker’s mantra.  “There’s no wrong time to rock,” he replies.

You bunch one hand into a fist and punch the steering wheel.  The sudden violence startles him:  you are often irritated with him, but this is something more. 

“What the fuck does that mean?  No wrong time to rock?  Is that what that was, rocking?  Are we fighting a fucking alien invasion or are we at a fucking Whitesnake concert?”

“Whoa, dude, calm down.”  He holds up his hands like he’s trying to calm a rabid dog.  “Everything’s cool.”

“It’s not,” you snap, but you’re not yelling, at least.  “It’s very much not cool.”

-----

You don’t take him to the shitty headquarters in Evergreen, and you don’t take him to his place.  You take him to your place, and he’s not the best at reading other people, but he wisely holds his tongue.  The first half of the drive back, you yelled at him, your face contorted like a scary Dracula.  

The second half of the drive, you were deadly silent, and that was somehow worse.

Now he’s limping into your little house, biting back a groan with each step as he follows you inside.

“Sit down,” you tell him.  Your voice is soft again, tired.  You gesture to a kitchen chair.  “I’ll get the first aid kit.  Get you patched up.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” he starts, and he feels weird:  guilty and ashamed.  You look exhausted all of a sudden.  Dark hollows under your eyes, lower lip gnawed nearly bloody.  

“I do,” you interrupt, just as soft.  “You’re my responsibility.”

You disappear for a long moment, and when you return with the first aid kit, Adrian thinks your eyes look red.  Like you’ve been crying.  Which makes no sense, because you hate him and anyways, you’re the toughest girl he knows.  He doesn’t think you’ve ever cried before.

You get him a glass of water, hand it to him.  You open your first aid kit—far more elaborate than the usual household’s—and shake out a few different pills.  Antibiotics.  Pain pills.  You hand them to him too, urge him to take them.

Then you set to work on him.  You ease him out of his suit, out of his underclothes until he’s sitting in your kitchen in just his boxers.  Then you’re stitching him up, daubing at his injuries with antibiotic ointment.  Each new burn, each new cut makes you suck in a mouthful of air through your teeth, hissing with sympathy at the pain.

Adrian hurts all over, but a strange feeling creeps over him as you tend to his wounds.  Each pass of the antiseptic-soaked cotton over his skin, each prickle of the needle stitching him.  Each gentle press of your fingers as you feel along his body for broken bones or internal injuries….he is hurt, but your touch makes him feel weird.  Loose and relaxed.  Warm.

It must be the drugs, he thinks, but then a voice in the back of his head chides him, says you know it’s not the pain pills.  You know it’s her.

He sighs, and he leans forward in the chair to press his forehead against your side.  You freeze at the touch, then you move after a moment.  You lay a gentle hand on the crown of his head, and you sigh too.

He wants to say he’s sorry.  He wants to say that deep down, he just a scared boy playing at this cape shit.  He wants to say that he was often lonely before Peacemaker was released from prison, and that he’s terrified Project Butterfly will end and he’ll be left alone again.  He wants to say that he doesn’t need a handler but that he likes having you around, likes to pretend that it’s your choice and not your job.

He doesn’t say anything.  Adrian isn’t good with words or feelings, and he never seems to say the right thing.  He just sighs again and turns his face into the softness of your belly.

And maybe you want to say things too:  that you don’t hate him, that your frustration is borne from a burgeoning affection for him.  That you worry yourself sick that you’ll fail him and lose him.  That you’ve lost people you love before and how that loss has made you a closed-off person.

But you don’t say anything either.  You aren’t great with words or feelings either, and you usually choose silence instead of chancing people seeing your heart.  

So you just sigh again too, and you keep your hand on the top of his head, but you wind your other arm around his shoulders and just hold him.

[pink-tea]

U ANSWERED MY ASK CANT BELIVE IM A FIRST HELLOOO????-? No bc ur writting is incredible cant believe there isnt more of ur brain 💔 tyun in pink is ruining my life. hes so adorable i want to kwlsm inwant to overstimulate him!

I did!! thank you for submitting, I had been checking every other day and got so excited to see one <3 and thank you so much!!! literally I’ve been losing my mind over pink hair taehyun since the day of the comeback </3

☆ minors dni (18+)

☆ 742 words

just imagining the way the way he would absolutely melt into the sheets as you take your time with him, leaving feather-like touches all over his thighs and trailing up his abs. he's flinching at every touch cause he's already so painfully hard, the feeling of your lips and body against his enough to send him over the moon. he wants to beg you to touch him, but at the same he just loves the way he feels under your gaze.

you look at him like he's your entire world is, your perfect boy, all spread out and needy just for you. his lips are red and swollen not just because of your kisses, but also because of his subconscious nibbling as he waits to receive what you give him.

he can only wait so long, though, and soon enough he's whining and reaching up to wrap his arms around your neck. "don't just tease me," he groans, back arching off the sheets with a gasp as you trail a finger up the muscle of his stomach. you smile, tilting your head as you watch him try to seduce you to get what he wants. he's had you wrapped around your finger since the moment you saw him

"just wanna worship my perfect boy, is that okay with you?" you coo, watching taehyun's brows furrow as he obviously fights the urge to swoon while also fighting the urge to tell you to fuck him already. hesitating, he shakes his head. "i want to feel you," he insists, leaving butterfly kisses up your neck and underneath your jaw, sweetly (just how you like it).

"how?" you question, finally trailing your whole palm down to touch the weeping head of taehyun's cock. your other hand anchors itself next to his head, and you hear your lover gasp before you feel his whole body arch up into yours.

"like that! j-just like that," he practically cries before trying to reel in his own enthusiasm. but you love hearing him sound so desperate and needy for your touch, and soon you begin fisting him at a pace so contrary to your sweet words earlier. his gasps and moans go into you ear and only urge you to make him cum faster, wrist twisting and thumb coming to swipe the precum leaking from his tip.

he's so sensitive and you can tell, his own precum acting like a messy lube as it makes lewd noises with every movement. taehyun looks gorgeous like this, underneath you and completely at your mercy as he tries not to lose himself in the feeling of the pleasure you give him. it's a shame that he can't last longer due to how pent up he's been, but it only makes the wheels in your head start to turn with a cruel idea.

"ah, fuck, cumming, cumming," he warns you soon after, voice breaking off into a whine as he spills into your palm, coating your fingers with his cum.

"did such a good job, my perfect boy did such a good job for me," you praise with a smile, kissing around his face as he slowly begins to come down from his high. you let him catch his breath, but soon you're back to twisting your wrist around his cock once it starts to soften. you feel his whole body jolt back into consciousness as he looks up at you, eyes wide and caught off-guard .

"i wanna see you come all undone for me again," you grin, not really expecting a response as taehyun's head rolls back against the mattress. his pink hair spreads on the pillow beneath him like a halo, and you admire the view of his glossy eyes as the overstimulation starts to mix pain with pleasure. he moans out something incoherent, one of his hands grasping at the sheets underneath him while the other goes to claw at the hand next to him, interlacing your fingers together.

"i don't know if i can," he sobs, hips stuttering and head thrashing lightly as his orgasm builds up right after his first. you frown at the answer before digging your thumb into his slit, making him cry out as he looks up at you through his own confusion and lust.

"then just take what i give you," you decide, hearing your name start to fall from his lips like a mantra as you lead him straight to his second high.

[punsmaster69]

3/MAR/20XX

i lost what the actual argument was about, but i remember this started with a stuffed animal hitting my face.

it smacks into me, and i toss it back to frisk. frisk catches it and continues talking with flowey about something, before tossing it back.

we go back and forth tossing and catching this little plush-butterfly thing while frisk goes back and forth with flowey in conversation.

that quickly derailed into an argument, and the toy was thrown at flowey.

normally this is relatively fine outside of the fact that throwing things isn't nice and i'm s'posed to tell them that, per request of tori.

this time was not normal though, and flowey toppled over backwards off the box he and his pot were placed upon.

so, i have an angry flower wrapped around my arm like he's trying to choke it to death while we pick out a new pot for him.

"Well, no nice ceramic, clearly."

"Can't have anything shatterable like THAT anymore."

"we could put you on wheels or somethin'."

"....What?"

"like a racecar."

"I could have been on wheels this WHOLE TIME?!"

"probably."

"𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭 shame you didn't shatter that thing sooner."

i can't stop myself from wincing when he tightens his vines around my arm suddenly.

"𝐇 𝐞 𝐲."

he freezes.

"kid."

"maybe.. 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 try n' break my arm, alright?"

"What the hell was that?"

the vines loosen significantly.

"That... that was NOT comic sans."

"been the same guy this whole time, buddy."

flowey just keeps staring at me with that look on his face.

ignoring it, i pretended to be looking closely at the pot selection from asgore (that undyne and papyrus carried over) intensely.

"you picked out a pot yet or are you gonna keep complaining about fragile ceramics?"

"Whatever it was that made you bring up wheels, I want that."

"you wanna go 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭 to the medal, huh? i'll talk with alphys, see what we can cook up."

"for now though, you still gotta pick something to attach the wheels 𝙩𝙤."

he rolled his eyes and glared at the choices in front of him, acting as if his selection of a green pot was completely random.

——

frisk's punishment is helping flowey with his chores for a week.

flowey insists it isn't long or harsh enough,

"They could have KILLED me, you know!!"

but frisk gets in a surprising lack of (serious) trouble very often, so toriel was certain that a week is all that's needed.

he tried to get 𝘮𝘦 to ground 'em for longer instead.

"i don't have any jurisdiction over this, kid."

"You do over THIS KID!!"

"nope."

"They even said it themselves!"

"What else do you want? Death penalty?? C'mon, man."

frisk tried to push their bangs out of their face, forgetting that their hair isn't as long as it once was anymore.

"Here- listen..."

"Mom already made me apologize, but."

"I really am sorry, Flowey. Threw the stuffed animal because I figured it'd be the least harmful thing to throw and didn't think about you possibly going off-balance. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Obviously."

"I'm still going to be mad about it."

"..That's fair. Broke your pot, and probably almost your face too."

"I'd be p-"

they glanced at me.

"Upset if YOU did that to ME."

"I get it already, you're sorry for being an idiot, this was an accident, yada-yada."

"Shut up now."

"Okay."

"And get this trashbag out of here!!"

frisk looked at me, and i gave them a shrug.

"ok. seeya."

like a magic act, i pulled a sheet from their bed and held it up to hide me. i dropped it and stepped backwards into our house.

papyrus and undyne were sitting in the middle of the living room floor, chatting loudly.

undyne gave me a quick high-five greeting and went back to their conversation.

met with a slight eye-rolling-minus-the-eyes gesture from my brother, i tossed myself onto the couch and rolled over onto my chest.

——

shoulda known.

got put in a pillow and sheet maze again.

[shares-a-vest]

tw: the mildest of reckless driving. psa don't show off with some speedy driving as a flirtation tactic (nothing bad happens, trust me). idk, I just think Steve would be like this with his car on a date.

Steve focuses on the road ahead and gently pushes further down on the gas. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel while placing his other hand directly on the window rolled all the way down.

The late afternoon spring air is warm on the back of his hand as he travels along the one road out of Hawkins.

He contemplates turning the radio up or fiddling with the dial, but it's either Madonna currently playing on the radio or whatever rural station he can tune in, preaching god knows what. It's not like a mixtape is an option either, considering Eddie is sitting right next to him.

He really doesn't want to spend the car ride on their way to their first date arguing about each other's music tastes.

Instead, he looks in his rearview mirror to find no cars in sight. He speeds up more still, setting a nice pace that feels like he is gliding as his baby purrs around him.

Because he needs to focus on something.

Anything to stop him from practically shooting out of his car seat and straight up through the damn roof with anticipation as Eddie – his date, Eddie – sits quietly beside him, appearing far too relaxed.

So, driving along like a movie star trying his luck at Le Mans it is then...

He flexes his hands on the steering wheel as he licks his lips, readying himself to get up some real speed in his pride and joy –

"Easy there, Steve McQueen," Eddie says, as he reaches his hand over to pat a lot closer to the inside seam of his jean leg than anywhere else.

Steve jerks the steering wheel and slams on the brake as he veers into the middle of the road. He and his passenger jolt forward and then back again into their car seats, the poor things squeaking from the sudden movement.

"Sorry," he splutters, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

"Stevie, get off the road," Eddie chuckles, reaching over again.

But thankfully, as Steve braces himself, Eddie is placing a controlling hand on the wheel. He bats him away and lifts his foot off the break as he catches his breath.

The clearing stops a ways ahead, giving way to another dense swath of trees on both sides of the road. There's a small dirt patch not too far in. A popular make-out spot he has used on more than one occasion.

He gets them there in one piece, pointedly ignoring Eddie's snickering as he helps himself to rifling through the glovebox to occupy himself.

In one swift move, Steve places the car in park on the dirt patch, kills the ignition and unclips his seatbelt – all so he can launch himself over the centre console.

It's more awkward than he'd expected (his dang sneaker catches on his seat) as he more stumbles into Eddie's lap than carefully straddles him.

"Steve," Eddie warns, manoeuvring around his legs, "I thought we were seeing a movie first," he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and gives his hips a tight squeeze.

"You like Steve McQueen?" Steve rejoices, looping his hands around Eddie's neck.

"Please don't force me to sit through The Great Escape," he whines, dry-sobbing at the car ceiling, "Wayne watches it every time it's on TV! And that other one with the... the... uh..." he gestures at his black shirt, "That boring one where he has the butterfly chest tattoo?"

"Papillon?" Steve guesses, already insulted and feeling a lot less enthusiastic.

Eddie clicks his fingers, "Yeah, that one."

Steve rolls his eyes, forever frustrated (and confused) by Eddie's movie tastes. Somehow the guy only likes new nerdy stuff, bloody horror of any kind and those weird old black-and-white films Robin loves too.

"But..." Eddie continues, biting the 't' and jolting Steve straight out of a need to bicker about film preferences, "He does have that pretty spot on his face."

Eddie's doe eyes fill with mischievous glee as he lifts his index finger and presses against the duo of moles on Steve's left cheek just off his nose, "Boop."

As a rush of heat travels right across Steve's cheek and melts into his ears to fry his goddamn brain, he reaches down to pull the lever on their seat to send them back as horizontal as the thing will go.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Random Hashira Post #6

Another massive shoutout to the angel, @kindestwalkingmentalbreakdown for this idea! All credit goes to her

Car Trip with the Hashira

Himejima Gyomei

Gyomei is the one driving

Don’t ask how he is doing it. He just is

He is pretty silent, focusing on the road but if everybody is doing karaoke, he’ll join in

He doesn’t really mind staying in the car for a long time

Though, getting out to pick up food for Mitsuri or stopping for brief breaks is completely fine with Gyomei

He can finally take a break from driving and stretch after hours of being sat in a moving metal contraption

Kanroji Mitsuri

Mitsuri tries her best to make the trip fun but most of her attempts end in a awkward long silence

She has Shinobu(who’s in the passenger) play music and sing so everybody else will join in

Bad idea tbh. She’ll feel sick from how much she is upper-body dancing

Mitsuri always sits besides Obanai and ends up falling asleep on his shoulder

She can’t stay up for the night shifts, no matter how hard she tries

Mitsuri notices animals in the bushes and points them out to her fellow as they zoom past

Iguro Obanai

Most likely is doing his own thing instead of looking at the sights from the windows

Obanai gives less of a fuck of taking a long car trip but he gets bored quickly

So, he’ll sees it as a good opportunity to catch up on the books he has been putting off

Mitsuri falls asleep on him and his heart shoots out of his chest

Doesn’t care where he goes in the huge car. Either the front of the rear-end, it’s fine with him

Obanai, alongside Sanemi, take over night shift driving so sometimes, he’s sleeping to prepare for that

Kocho Shinobu

Refuses to sit in any spot but the passenger

It does seem bratty but she hates being squished so she ends up fighting with Sanemi for it until she wins

Shinobu spends most of the trip on her phone. She is bored in no time and tries to entertain herself

Shinobu is quite organised so she has everything she may need for the long trip at her feet

Likes to stir up her fellow Hashira by hiding away food from them for a bit

Shinobu will, most likely, text or call her girls back at the Butterfly Estate

Shinazugawa Sanemi

Sanemi definitely won’t definitely will take pictures of specific pasting sights for Genya

He argues with his fellow over using his window. They have their own, don’t bother him by looking over his shoulder

Sanemi takes power naps throughout the trip to prepare to take over for Gyomei

Sanemi gathers the rubbish of the Hashira’s dinner/snacks to put away himself

At times, he may buy things other than food/drinks on their brief stops like maybe a cute keychain for Genya

Sanemi, behind the wheel, purposefully wakes up his friends by honking the horn

Tokito Muichiro

Muichiro is fucking sleeping

He spends about 70% of the long-ass trip sleeping and sleeping peacefully, may I add

When awake, Muichiro is watching the clouds slowly shift from above. Without noticing the sights

Muichiro is regularly the one to point out when the car is low on fuel

Is definitely one of the quietest people on this trip

Muichiro draws random patterns on the foggy window when the outside is cold and the car is warm

Uzui Tengen

Tengen and cars. A common ally, so he finds the car trip to be casual. Not fun but not boring

Tengen, like Shinobu, chat with his wives over the phone at specific times to keep them updated

This man is a troll so whilst the car is driving, he will start shaking the car(very slightly) to annoy or worry his fellow Hashira

Tengen goes to the bathroom the most of the Hashira(since he always brings Sake) and is ballsy enough to release himself on the side of the road

Tengen draws with a art book he bought to kill time

He has dynamite in his travelbag so the Hashira have to stop him from throwing a lit stick at a asshole driver

Tomioka Giyuu

Once again. He doesn’t want to be in this situation at all

Giyuu hides in the furthest back seat in the car and simply watches out the window the entire trip

He’ll simply take his food off Mitsuri and eat in silence as everybody else chats away

Giyuu surprisingly knows how to fix a flat tire so if the car ever did need a quick tire change, he does it behind the Hashira’s backs

Giyuu collects cute accessories and/or gifts for Tanjiro and Nezuko

Giyuu likes to make a cute blanket nest before he goes to sleep in the car. It’s more comfy then the hard seats

Rengoku Kyojuro

Like Mitsuri, Kyojuro is attending the singing karaoke and eventually gets so loud that he can be overheard over the music

Kyojuro views the road trip as fun and is still so excited, even a hour or more into the ride

Brought portable board games to play with any nearby fellow Hashira

Kyojuro styles Muichiro’s hair to practice his hairdressing skills whenever he is bored

Is surprisingly a night owl so he stays up pretty late and offers to take over the night shift drive

Kyojuro also has a backup bag of clothes incase anybody needs some!

Once again, my creative juices are a bit floundered but hope you guys like it

[star-crossed-mid]

I assign squishmallows to the gods based on vibes

Some of them were easier than others

Leon (self explanatory)

Scorpio (also self explanatory)

Teorus = (Pink+ Cow)

Krioff

Karno- crab

Ikky- Fish have rainbow scales, I really like ikky's color themes being a light blue base with colors.

Huedhaut- This was hard. Gave him the tea bcuz he gives out drinks. The dolphin for some aquatic influence. The caterpillar bcuz it looks like a giant nerd and it would be mean to me for answering a question wrong.

Partheno- I associate partheno with birds (cuckoos specifically) and feathers. Also pink demon plush

Aigo- goat(s)

Dui- Squishmallows sell duo cherry plushes. Also dui gives me the vibe of wendy the frog but only the negative implications

Zyg- I love that Zyg loves dogs. I also associate Zyglavis with butterflies/birds too or any animal that is super symmetrical.

Tauxolouve- Horse girl Lou

MC- I want to make a different post for all the gods+ mc's color schemes. I believe MC would be a light orange or green to fit in with everyone on the color wheel. I also associate MC with goldfish but clotho with butterflies/moths (boom butterfly effect)

also i had a bunch of Halloween memes planned for spooky season. I love fall, I love autumn its my favorite time of year but gamers I cannot catch a schedule break my Halloween posts are coming out by January at this point 😭😭 my friends just bought me bg3 and im def not being productive now

[autumnalwalker]

A Dream About An Investigation

I am in a cramped building that is hidden away down a twisting alleyway in a crowded warren of a city.  This building has been many things over the years, but it is currently an avant-garde restaurant decorated all in stark whites, strongly at contrast with the chaotic swirl of black and neon paint that characterizes the rest of the neighborhood.  

I do not belong here – or anywhere else this fancy – but there is something here I need.

Unfortunately, the thing I need is in a room that's been sealed off by the most recent round of renovations.  I decide to try breaking open and climbing through the ventilation system.  I'm in something of a hurry so I set off the fire sprinklers to get people to leave and then take the risk of using magic to try to force the vent open.

One of the waitresses is staring at me.  She keeps scratching at the left side of her torso as if she has some sort of terrible itch or rash hidden beneath her clothes.

Another, deeper, more ominous alarm sounds.  This one is city wide.  The great Thing in the sky will soon be here.  All who are able to begin evacuating the city.  I attempt too, but soon realize I cannot.  I pull out my phone and call my friend to see if they can get me out of here.  They have their own loved ones they need to prioritize.  I understand.  They wish me luck.

The great Thing appears over the city and reality melts into surreal chaos.

I can't shake the feeling that this is all my fault.

In the aftermath, I return to that restaurant.  The pristine interior is now a ruined mess.

That waitress from earlier is still here, clearing the floor with a pushbroom.  Once again she stares at me and scratches at her side, but says nothing.

A wall has fallen in, revealing a short staircase to an unlocked door to the room I was seeking before.  This building has been many things over the years and this room has been untouched since it was a machine shop.    Steel tools remain scattered on workbenches, carts, and tables.

This room was also the sight of a murder that nearly everyone else believes was a suicide.  It was a family member of mine who died in this spot.

It takes some searching through the mess, but I find what I'm looking for.  Several tiny medicine dose sized cups still bearing the dried residue of a blue liquid.  The evidence I need to close a case that everyone refused to so much as give the most cursory investigation into back when it happened.

I exit the old machine shop and that waitress is still staring at me and scratching at her side.

Much, much later I am traveling through mountains on foot near an alpine lake with some close companions of mine.  It is nearing dusk as we approach the torii gate marking the last stretch where the stone road becomes a rising wooden boardwalk into the small town where we'll be spending the night.

Small, floating, ephemeral beings appear that look like spoked wheels made of light and move like jellyfish appear and try to alight upon us like curious butterflies drawn to flowers.  They're charming little things and most of our party are quite endeared to them.  One of my companions, a man in robes with long black hair in a high ponytail shoos the floaters off and tells the rest of us to pay them no mind.

As the rest of us pass through the torii gate my ponytailed friend tells the rest of us to go on ahead.  There's something he needs to handle real quick but he'll catch up.  Most of us give him the benefit of the doubt and continue on.

Just after we leave him, he steps sideways into a pale mist and the world goes gray for him.  There are suddenly far more of the floaters, and with sword and flame he begins to destroy them.  He downplayed how dangerous these things are to the rest of us so that no one would panic.  In truth these floaters drain the life from the living they touch.  He is very good at what he does, but he begins to get overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

I reappear at his side and begin ripping apart the floaters with my own violent lights, conjured with a mere gesture.  This is not the first time my friend has pulled something like this, nor is it mine.

We turn the tide and begin tracing the remaining floaters back to their source.

We find a familiar woman in an unfamiliar dress, scratching at the side of her torso.

I recognize her from the restaurant all that time ago and realize at long last that it was not me who brought the great Thing in the sky down upon that city, but her.  Guilt becomes anger.

The woman's side splits open and a hundred strand of thread from which the floaters are woven spill out.  Her rent body twists and warps into some sort of hybrid spider creature guiding those strands of light through what is at one moment a spinning wheel and at another moment a harp.

My friend and I steel ourselves for what is sure to be a hard battle.

[steddilystranger]

blue butterfly (a life is strange au)

blue butterfly is a story-based fic that features reader choice. the consequences of your collective choices will affect the past, present, and future. the poll, with a duration of one week, is below the cut. choose wisely...

masterlist || part one (you are here) || cw: homophobic language, character death

Wind whips against Steve’s face. He struggles through the storm.

Where am I? he thinks to himself. What’s happening?

A light cuts through his rain-soaked world, and Steve wheels on his heel. “The lighthouse!” he says aloud, droplets of rain seeping through his hair and clothes. “I just have to make it there!” 

He ignores the feeling in his gut that is pulling him back to the town and stumbles forward, wiping the rain from his eyes periodically. He gets close to the base of the lighthouse, breaking out of all the trees, and finally sees the storm for the first time. 

Holy fucking shit. 

It can only be described as a cross between a hurricane and a tornado. It must be miles high, sweeping towards the small town of Hawkins below. 

As Steve watches, the strong winds whisk a boat from the bay below and slam it into the top of the lighthouse. Debris crumbles down, heading straight for Steve’s head.

Steve sits forward, gasping for breath quietly. 

A dream. 

That’s all it was. 

Realistic dream, horrifyingly so, but a dream nonetheless.

His professor, Dr. Brenner, is pacing around the classroom, talking animatedly with his hands. “Photography is subjective. I could frame any one of you in a dark room, watching you turn from the light to the dark.”

Vickie’s phone buzzes. Someone throws a ball of paper at that Byers kid, Jonathan.

Steve glances up at the clock, noticing it’s getting close to the end of class. He starts to subtly slip his Polaroid camera into the case, but accidentally hits the button, causing the flash to go off in his face. All eyes are drawn to him. 

“I believe Steve has taken what you young people call a ‘selfie’”. Brenner says. “I hate that word. Sounds so unrefined for what is a classical photography technique. Mr. Harrington, can you tell me the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?” 

Steve doesn’t want to talk out of his ass, especially not in front of this room of pretentious art nerds. He’s only taking this class because Robin thought it’d be good for him, especially after he got kicked off the basketball team. One too many concussions is apparently where the coach drew the line. 

He shakes his head, and Brenner tuts disappointedly. “If you had done the assigned reading last night, you’d know.”  Vickie raises her hand. ”Vickie?”

 She answers it perfectly. “A French painter called Louis Daguerre created the process called the Daguerreotype that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror.” 

“Very good!” Dr. Brenner congratulates her. “Yes, precisely.” 

The bell rings and everyone stands up to leave, Dr. Brenner’s voice rising above the clamor. “I’m expecting your photographs for the Everyday Hero contest by this Friday! Jeff, that means you. Jonathan, thanks for your submission. And yes, Steve, I see you pretending not to see me.” 

Steve steps out into the hallway, sidling around groups of people. He passes by the notice board and takes a cursory glance at it, noting the new poster pinned up. There’s been a poster up for the missing Byers twins, William and Eleanor, for a couple months now, but now a new missing poster. Chrissy Cunningham. 

He knows Chrissy. 

Not well, of course, but she had gone to school around here back when Steve’s family lived here, before he’d moved away to Seattle. He hadn’t seen her since he transferred back to come to Blackwell, but he didn’t know she was missing. 

Someone bumps into his shoulder roughly, and Steve disappears into the blissfully empty bathroom and takes a breath. 

A movement catches his eye. A blue butterfly flutters in through the open window. 

Robin’s always saying I should “capture the moment”, Steve thinks to himself, drawing his camera out of his bag. Fine. Captured.

He snaps a picture of the blue butterfly as it lands on the small lock of the shitty stall doors, opening and closing its wings lazily, as if putting on a show just for him. 

The door slams open behind him and Steve reflexively dodges into the stall, muffling his breath with his hand. He peers through the crack in between the stall and the door. The butterfly flutters out the top of the stall and away. 

The back of someone dressed in leather and chains, with long, curly hair, is to him. They’re facing someone who Steve unfortunately recognizes. 

Billy Hargrove. 

“You bitch!” he spits. “I can’t fuckin’ believe you!” 

“What?” the mysterious boy taunts, gravelly and low, and Steve thinks he sounds familiar, even though he can’t put his finger on why. “Mad that I cut you off, Hargrove?”

Billy shoves the boy. “I’m paying you money, fag, why do you give a damn how I use the shit I bought?”

“Because I saw you giving it to kids, asshole!” he retorts right back. “And I got it on tape. So you can either fork over some cash and the remainder of the shit I sold you, or I take this to the cops.” 

There’s a sharp breath, and the glint of something metal suddenly hits Steve’s eye. 

Billy’s aiming a handgun at the boy. 

“You are pissing me off.” he grunts, and Steve knows enough about guns to see that the safety’s off. “I bet no one would even miss you, queer!” 

The boy backpedals, letting Billy eclipse Steve’s sliver of view. He’s clutching his hand to his mouth, feeling his nails dig sharp crescent moons into his cheek. 

He can’t just sit here. 

Steve slams the door open, hand outstretched, prepared to snarl at Billy to get the fuck away from him, but the sound startles him, and the gun goes off. 

Right into the boy’s stomach.

The world turns black and white, silent save for a ringing in his ears. 

Someone died. 

Someone died and Steve was too cowardly to stop it.

And then he’s back in class.

Brenner’s talking. “Photography is subjective. I could frame any one of you in a dark room, watching you turn from the light to the dark.” he says. 

I heard this lecture already. Steve thinks. Wait, no. Calm down, Harrington. This is just…serious deja vu. 

Vickie’s phone buzzes, and Steve watches someone throw a paper ball at Jonathan. His hand slips and knocks his camera off his desk. It shatters, pieces scattering all over the ground. 

Fuck. Robin bought him that. 

Hesitantly, Steve reaches out his hand, and it’s like the world moves in reverse around him. His camera pieces levitate off the ground, fitting themselves back together, and the whole camera, now intact, settles itself back on his desk.

Holy shit. 

Steve cannot process this. He watches the same things happen, Vickie’s phone and the paper ball, and stares at his hands. 

Purposefully this time, he picks up his camera and snaps a picture of himself. 

Brenner wheels on him. “I believe Steve has taken what you young people call a ‘selfie’. I hate that word. Sounds so unrefined for what is a classical photography technique. Mr. Harrington, can you tell me the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?” 

Steve sits up straighter, trying to remember what Vickie said last time. “Uh, the… Daguerre process?” 

Brenner laughs. “Close! Vickie, would you like to help him out?” 

“A French painter called Louis Daguerre created the process called the Daguerreotype that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror.” she says. 

Steve reaches out his hand again. The world warps and inverts. “Mr. Harrington,” Brenner says again, “can you tell me the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?” 

“A French painter called Louis Daguerre created the process called the Daguerreotype that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror.” Steve parrots Vickie, and feels a swell of victory in his chest when Brenner beams. 

He also feels a swell of nausea. He’s gone back in time, what, three times now? What’s happening?

The bell rings and Steve sweeps his stuff into his bag. He begins mouthing along to Brenner’s speech. “I’m expecting your photographs for the Everyday Hero contest by this Friday! Jeff, that means you. Jonathan, thanks for your submission.” 

Steve dodges into the hallway. “And yes, Steve, I see you pretending not to see me.” he mutters as Brenner finishes his spiel. 

Everything’s the same as Steve slips through the crowd. The missing posters, the conversation snippets, the bathroom being empty. 

The butterfly’s gone, though. Steve doesn’t know what to make of that. 

He folds himself into his hiding spot early, waiting. 

Right on cue, the door slams open and Billy comes in with that mysterious boy. 

They begin to argue again, and Steve leans forward. If this really isn’t a dream, and if Steve waits too long again, the boy will die. Again. 

Steve can’t let that happen.

[eobe]

Now the unforseen art and self reflexion colossus ramble… 🦋✨ deep talk mode unlocked🦉

The lesson of the artwork in a room

In my art I love to focus on making the soul of a beeing, a concept or an idea not only visible but palpable. It‘s one of my strongest beliefs and my personal experience, that showing the glistening soul and pure essence of something can be that powerful and inspiring, so the beholder gets energy and courage to face their shadows, heal and grow with the own personal topics in their individual time 🕯️

Some may now think I‘m just the butterfly chasing lil girl in the sunlight I am though 🤩🦋 but constantly working myself through the given shadows of life carry me at my state of development to the thinking, that the duality of our world is a question of the personal decisions we come to in every moment of our lives – no matter how big or small they are ☺��☕️

So I mostly – if able – I choose positive thinking even if I don’t feel like in those moments and I think this is called mind hygiene (is that valid English?). And it’s also a big part to allow myself, that this is not possible in every moment and in that case, that it’s okay. Really okay. We’re human in here. No robots with malfunctions to get tinkered until we work again.

The trick for me is just to look at (even too) heavy things the same way like on to an artwork. Firstly, recognize: You always have a choice. You don’t have to react on the most incidents in the very same second! Fast and people pleasing or out of heated emotion reactions aren’t wise but unconsciously taught as neccessary, often as trauma response. Even during an emergency it makes no real difference if you rest and breathe just for some seconds to avoid panic or mistakes, so no excuses except you’re the automation type and a break would disturb the flow or tell me honestly if you think otherwise I’ll never stop learning ☺️

So if it’s not an emergency but everyday challenges, for me it’s just like this with heavy things or art: Taking myself the time I need (as soon as possible in an appropriate moment) to sort things more with my heart and stomach, not only with the ever gear wheeling head of mine ☺️ My brain might be big or is it small and just feels big who can say and often it really hurts, but I‘m aware that it‘s too small for this world. I‘m under no obligation to understand everything. In here – just a little human making a difference by mere existence and leaving footsteps whether I hustle or not.

But why even look at art or heavy things? Why not getting rid the fastest way? Why does it tend to linger and getting rid of often just doesn’t work properly or for good? Here is the connection: Heavy things and art have in common, that they’re imprinting and this is none about choice. Not really. How to deal with that, sounds too much, doesn’t it? So give the art way a chance to solve that.

In my experience art is something, where you can take a break from looking at, but not forever as long as it’s in your room. It influences the atmosphere and it will draw you in, slowly or rapidly, if you like or not – there will be the breaking point where you won’t be able to avoid looking at anymore.

Do I really want to hide from it until it gets me or do I face it and how? Hard confrontation is what the most of us had to learn, but there is the art way: I decide to look at it to my own conditions, preparing myself with breathing, posture checking and providing myself with a mug of caf or choc ☕️ 

And this is just one of the many lessons of art for us: Take yourself time to sort things out, but do it before it gets you from behind, taking the decision from you and catching you unarmed. It‘s okay to take a break but recognize that completely looking away is nearly impossible and the trial to avoid it is getting more and more hurtful. So I recommend to choose the break consciously and then look at it secure and with a cozy distance if you need it ☕️🫶🏼 but look at it.

So knowing that there’ll be always heavy things thrown at me by life itself, with the art way it‘s my mere choice how I want to feel most of the time of my life: Heavy or light? Problem stressing or a chance to grow?

In my opinion that‘s not even the whole question by the way: I love to ask for the colors and shadings between, because the beauty of life experience isn’t always bright. I love the light breaking through shadows and mists more than the solely display of light or dark. I love scars, I love imperfect blossoms, I love leaves falling down and sprouts growing out of concrete. This is the beauty of duality and how I manage to grow in this world. I don’t avoid. How could I? Behind fright it is inspiring. This is art.

At the end and under the line, all I see is the potential to grow steadily and inevitable into the own pure essence 😎✨

So if you really read this through I say thank you so much 😄 Please feel free to roast me like a coffee bean for rudimentary English (no jokes, if you see something, tell me, I’d appreciate every chance to improve 🤩) and I’d really love to join the discourse with your own thoughts if you like ☕️

[missnobodymadness]

Evelyn Thorburn Playlist

Because they say you can tell a lot about a character by their playlist, so, why not, right? :'D There is a possibility that I will add more songs in the future but for now I think she has a very solid playlist already.

"I've been losing myself in anger, so much broken by the rage, nothing could take my mind off how to make them pay, killing myself for nothing and the pain won't go away"

Her theme song. I really wanted a song from my favorite band to be her theme and I decided to go with Tell Me Why as I feel like it describes very well her arc about the truth behind her parents death, when she starts to wonder if she is on the right side of the story. "Tell me, why am I still here when it's all gone, I'm living with the ghosts of yesterday" this part of the song also reminds me of how she felt after the death of her parents and how that trauma stayed with her until her last breath.

"I wouldn't hold my breath if I was you 'cause I'll forget but I'll never forgive you, don't you know, don't you know? True friends stab you in the front" (...) "You can run, but you can't hide, time won't help you 'cause karma has no deadline"

The song that I imagine as the soundtrack for her scenes during the Return To Shiganshina arc, especially the moment when she literally goes feral after Reiner; real friends really stab you in the front. eheh A good day to be the armored titan, guess armors really can save your life, huh? :'D

"Now there's only one thing I can do, fight until the end like I promised to, wishing there was something left to lose, this could be the day I die for you"

I picked this song for the moment of her death, she died to save Reiner from the War Hammer titan (the irony eheh), only if she'd known that their dead friends would come to save the day before making such decision...just a bad and impulsive choice once again, she died by it, she died being herself.

"When she was just a girl she expected the world but it flew away from her reach and the bullets catch in her teeth, life goes on, it gets so heavy, the wheel breaks the butterfly, every tear a waterfall, in the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes, in the night the stormy night away she'd fly, dream of para-para-paradise"

Decided to add this song to her playlist because this is the perfect description of her old self and the turn her life took, this song represents her wishes an dreams to go back to her origins, to live in a peaceful and better world. The world to where she goes when she dissociates to escape the pain and stress of her reality.

"There's so much I carry with me, it was always my safe haven and now nothing makes sense, I've lost my best friend and if it's not too much, I ask for signs, there's only one word left, saudade, saudade, nothing more that I can say, says it in a better way" (Translated to english)

First, this is a portuguese song and the word "saudade" is unique to our language, there is no exact translation for it, but if I had to describe it, I'd describe it as a deep sorrow for someone you are missing. It is quite obvious why I picked this song and for which moment of her story it is destined...when she finds out about Sasha's death. Well, not exactly the moment when she gets the news but some time afterwards when it starts to actually sink in, the realization of losing someone is such a painful thing to go through... :(

"Fear is withering the soul at the point of no return, we must be the change we wish to see, I'll come into your world, see through your eyes, I'll try to understand, before we lose what we have, we just can't stop believing 'Cause we have to try, we can rise above their truth and their lies"

Yet another song from my favorite band because they have such relatable lyrics! This song is perfect for her first months in Marley, when she starts to slowly realize how messed up things were and eventually warms up to Reiner again out of empathy, deciding to give him a chance to make amends. Overall this is pretty much the soundtrack I picked for her desperate search for peace between Marley and Paradis.

"Well, you're my friend and can you see, many times we've been out drinking, many times we've shared our thoughts, but did you ever, ever notice, the kind of thoughts I got? Well, you know I have a love, a love for everyone I know, and you know I have a drive, to live, I won't let go, but can you see this opposition, comes rising up sometimes? That it's dreadful imposition, comes blacking in my mind, and then I see a darkness"

I picked this song mostly for her mental breakdown and how unstable she she has become over the years. This would also be a nice soundtrack to how she feels after turning her back on Paradis.

"Keep watching from your picket fence, you keep talking, but it makes no sense! You say we're not responsible, but we are, we are"

Picked this song to represent her feelings towards Paradis after finding out about the truth behind her parents death, that's all she could think about while her anger increased leading to the mental breakdown mentioned above, for her, it became very clear that both sides were at fault.

"Ah, and I don't hardly know her but I think I can love her, crimson and clover, ah, now when she comes walking over now I've been waiting to show her, crimson and clover, over and over"

This song wasn't on the original playlist I made for her but ended up adding it after getting so many vibes of Evelyn and Pieck that I ended up listening to it on repeat for weeks. So yeah, this is basically Evelyn's POV when she is around Pieck, a mix of feelings that she is trying to decode, attraction and a mist inside her head that she can't get rid of.