#Cut off where the heart cut- hole- this is???

[violenteconomics]

remember this post i made about ace and epel (and eventually the other freshmen) pranking their upperclassmen?

yeah, so, here’s an idea for a significantly less funny prequel:

the first-years actually met their housewardens as kids, where they got very attached to one another, but absolutely none of them remember this. 

i’ve got a drabble written for riddle, ace, and deuce, but for the others, i’m completely lost, lol.

^

(warning: mentions of child abuse)

^

4-year-old ace trappola, a pint-sized brat who loses a ball in dr rosehearts’s backyard. since dr rosehearts has an extremely sour reputation around town for being impossible to be polite with, ace decides it’s not worth the patience it’ll take to knock on her door. so instead, he climbs her fence to retrieve it.

that’s when he notices the boy sitting by the windowsill, with a thousand books stacked all around him, looking very intrigued at the book in his hands. ace has never seen someone so engrossed with a book that doesn’t even have a picture on the cover, and having absolutely no filter, even at that age, he simply walks up to him and asks what he’s doing.

at first, riddle tries to shoo him away, knowing how his mother will react when she finds out there’s a random kid stepping on her perfectly-cut grass. eventually, though, ace’s childish stubbornness wins out, and riddle tells him about the history book he’s reading.

[ace is alice and riddle is alice’s sister in this scenario in case you don’t get the reference, they make me insane, okay—]

everyday, ace comes back to the windowsill at the same time (at riddle’s request, because he only has so much independent study time) just to listen to him. everyday, he says that it’s stupid, boring, and he can’t believe riddle actually reads book without pictures. everyday, he comes back to sit under riddle’s windowsill and listen to him go on about food chemistry.

but then dr rosehearts finds out.

ace doesn’t really know what happens after she showed up to their doorstep, looking down on him like he was a bug underneath her heeled feet, but next thing he knows, his dad’s telling him and brother that they’re moving to a different town. he tells ace that their house just isn’t pretty enough, but ace is young— not stupid.

(in the future, whenever ace scores high on a test, and riddle will smile and tell him he’s proud of him. every single time, it leaves a bad taste in his mouth for reasons ace can’t explain.)

^

5-year-old deuce spade only knows ace as “the kid who moved out”, but through some wicked twist of fate, he’s the next person to lose something in dr roseheart’s backyard.

deuce’s mom actually used to work for dr rosehearts as her secretary, but deuce doesn’t really like her, because she used to make his mom work long hours with little pay in return. his mom lived in dr rosehearts’s medical practice more than she actually lived in the crappy apartment they could barely afford. he was so glad when she quit.

but unfortunately, dr rosehearts’s house is right next to the park, and losing balls in her garden is unfortunately very common for most kids in the neighborhood. and since deuce really doesn’t want to talk to her, he jumps over her fence instead.

this time, riddle’s the one who notices him.

riddle’s missing ace a lot (he never found out why he stopped coming around), so to fill the hole in his heart, he invited deuce over. sheepishly, deuce walks over and lets riddle tell him about the book on agricultural trade he’s been reading. deuce doesn’t quite get it as fast as ace did, but unlike ace, he’s patient and hard-working and oh-so earnest in his attempts to understand.

of course, dr rosehearts isn’t going to help this relationship in the slightest. a few weeks later, she waits for deuce right outside the fence, before dragging him off once he’s out of riddle’s view. she mocks his attempts at trying to learn something that’s clearly above his mental capacity, for trying to be someone above his station, for knowing the rules and being too stupid to stick to them.

(“What sort of pitiful education have you received, that you cannot follow such simple rules?”)

when she delivers deuce back to his house, his mother says nothing. when she tells him they’re moving to a bigger house on the complete other side of the queendom, deuce doesn’t argue.

(deuce couldn’t tell you why doing so bad in school frustrated him to the point of becoming a delinquent. he really couldn't.)

[anonymous-dentist]

Grian stumbles into town with a bullet lodged in his spine and another in his ass. He walks with an obvious limp, making his spurs jingle obnoxiously with every step.

He doesn’t know where he is. His absolute idiot of a horse is at the bottom of a canyon choking on dirt. His back hurts, and his coat isn’t doing much to hide the blood oozing out of his bullet wounds.

All in all? Miserable day. Zero out of ten.

And, he thinks as a cloud passes over the scorching western sun above, it’s just going to get worse from here.

There are people staring. Townspeople, obviously, on both the street and inside whatever piles of wood they’re trying to pass off as actual buildings. And then there are the horses, as judgemental as Grian’s own rude, terrible horse.

And then there are the ghosts whispering to each other in the shadows. They point and laugh and mime shooting guns and stick their tongues out and flip him off as he walks by.

Grian grimaces at the attention and pulls his hat low over his face.

(That’s the thing about the living, they never know how to mind their own business!)

(Not that the dead are any better, mind.)

(And not that Grian is much better than them.)

He’s got a walking stick and a gun. The gun doesn’t have any bullets left in it, and the stick is half-broken. He used to have a knife, but he left it with BigB (because he’s stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!) His sword is at home, and his ax is somewhere in the desert buried in a skeleton’s ribcage.

It’s a small town, at least. Grian only walks past the saloon and the general store and the post office and two whole entire houses before he’s through the town and in front of the church.

More importantly, he’s in front of the graveyard.

He looks up at the tree in the middle of the graveyard. It’s got a noose hung on it, and there’s someone hanging from it: no soul, no breath, no life.

“Rip,” says Grian. (Living slang, he thinks.)

Looking around carefully, he hops the graveyard’s fence and heads towards the body.

“It’s nothing personal,” he tells it once he’s standing before (and below) it. “I’ve just got to borrow some of your juice, that’s all. You won’t be needing it where you’re going.”

Letting out a long, and deeply annoyed. breath, Grian leans his stick against the tree. He cracks his neck, shimmies a little in place, winces as the bullets in him wiggle around painfully.

“Right,” he says.

He nods.

And then he gets on his toes and places his hand on the body’s chest over where its heart once beat. He closes his eyes, and-

“What are you doing?” he hears- a whisper, hoarse like an asthmatic, well, horse.

The Living, Grian judgmentally thinks.

He wrinkles his nose in response. “Nothing. Go away.”

“Uh-huh. Well-”

The whisper cuts off as Grian shushes it. He’s busy!

No soul, no breath, no life… but there should still be, at least, juice. Tasty juice, perfect for getting rid of nasty bullet holes and dissolving the bullets inside.

But.

“This is a little personal, don’t you think?” the voice asks. “I mean, we don’t even know each other!”

Grian frowns.

And then Grian screams as the body he’s touching starts freaking wiggling.

His eyes fly open (hah!) and he stumbles backwards, clutching his hand to his chest and breathing entirely too heavily for a creature unable to feel fear.

The body smiles. It waves. It laughs as Grian hyperventilates below it.

“Why, hello there!” it cheerfully says.

Grian lunges for his stick and starts beating the corpse with it.

“Ow!” it yelps. “Hey! Ow! Stop that!”

“You’re supposed to be dead!” Grian snaps. (He’s rather an expert in these kinds of things.) “Go on! Be dead!”

The body whimpers and moans and kicks at Grian at Grian swings at it:

“Yeowch!”

“‘Yeowch’ this,” Grian huffs. He cracks his stick upside the body’s head so hard that his stick actually finally breaks in half.

The body just looks offended.

As Grian bends down to try and magic his stick back together, the body raises a hand to rub the side of its head.

“Okay, rude,” it angrily says. “What did I do?”

Grian narrows his eyes up at it: jagged scars cutting across its face, skin almost grey in appearance, rope around the neck. Fancy clothes like that of a businessman.

No soul. No breath. …Some life?

“You’re alive,” Grian explains. “That’s a problem.”

“Tell me about it,” the body sighs. It rolls its eyes towards the town. “Those guys spent weeks trying to get me killed! Haven’t the faintest idea why.”

This is. Strange.

“Where is your soul?” Grian demands. He stands and pokes the body right in the tummy, ignoring the light giggle it gives in response. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Ah, see, that’s a funny story, actually…”

Grian turns and starts to walk away with his broken stick. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to hear it. I haven’t got the time.”

A cloud passes over the sun.

“Hey!” the body calls. “What about my juice! You said you needed it!”

“I can’t get it from someone alive.”

“Oh, is that all? Cut me down, I can help.”

The bullet in Grian’s back is awful smug for something about to get dissolved. It digs in as Grian turns around and gives the body a capital-L look.

“Did you kill someone?” he flatly asks.

The body bats its eyelashes. “Well, you won’t find out unless you get me down from here.”

Grian… weighs his options. He can’t run like this. Death will find him by sundown if he can’t heal up and hide himself. But the corpse in front of him is an affront to nature and he kind of really hates it.

He sighs, anyway, and starts back towards the tree.

Twenty minutes later, he and his new corpse friend are standing in a cave over the lightly-decomposed body of a young man in a dirty white shirt.

“That’s a dead man,” Grian astutely says.

The body nods. “Yup. Found him myself a few days ago. Went and reported it to the townspeople, but they just hung me instead of thanking me.”

Grian looks at him with a confusedly-furrowed brow. “They didn’t even come and get the body?”

The body shrugs innocently; Grian is sure that it killed this man.

He crouches by the dead man, anyway, and puts his hand over its heart.

“You’re one of those reaper guys, right?” the standing body suddenly asks.

Grian chokes on his own breath. “Ah-”

“Oh, don’t mind me asking!”

“That is. Private information.”

“So you are! That’s good, ‘cause, see, I’ve got this problem…”

Slowly, the body settles on the ground next to Grian, criss-cross-applesauce. It puts its hands in its lap.

“I may have screwed with Death,” the body says.

Grian looks at it, a walking corpse. “Well, I’d say.”

“And now Death is after me,” it continues. “So, if you’re a reaper, maybe you can put in a good word for me? I’m not abusing my immortality or anything, honest!”

Grian sucks in a sympathetic breath through his teeth. “Yeah, sorry, bud, I can’t do that. Death’s after me, too.”

The body doesn’t so much as blink before grinning and saying, “Then that’s even better! We can team up! You know what they say, two heads are better than one!”

“Better not. I’ve got a big target on my back. If you want to be left alone, I am not the reaper you should be hanging out with.”

He’d be much better off with Mumbo, Grian thinks. Death likes Mumbo. They’re good friends even outside of work.

But the body just shakes his head. “No, man, you don’t get it.”

And then he reaches into his suit’s inside pocket and pulls out a gun. The gun: old, tarnished silver with skulls engraved in the metal.

It points Death’s Scythe at Grian with a tilt of the head.

“Cool, huh?” it asks. “Now, I know that you know what this is, so I’m sure that we won’t have any arguments here when I suggest that we start working together. Reapers avoid other reapers, right?”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, unless they’re explicitly looking for other reapers. Put that down, you can’t shoot it, anyway.”

He turns back to the dead man on the floor; he needs his juice.

He jumps as a bullet flies right past his ear and into the cave wall behind him.

He freezes.

“I’m Scar, by the way,” the body- Scar, and Grian has heard of him, his name has been on the reaping list for almost a century now- says. “I’ve got a wagon hidden in an old barn outside of town and some supplies.”

Slowly, Grian lets out a breath. Of course. Of course! He’s only been on Earth for a day, and he’s already being kidnapped by a Living. Great. He’s never going to live this down.

Through grit teeth, he says, “Grian. Now, excuse me…”

He closes his eyes, and he plunges his hand right through the dead man’s chest until he’s holding the heart. He squeezes it, and he pulls it out of the body, and he brings it to his lips. He opens his mouth, and-

———

Or: It’s the Wild West, and Grian is a grim reaper is running away from Death, Scar is a human who cheated Death and (mostly) got away with it, and is immortality really all it’s cut out to be?

I’ve never written anything with these characters before, so let me know what you think!!

[toxintouch]

Started out as an elaborate “draw me like one of your French girls” joke and spiraled outta control from there... @lu-dao-writes posted the same scenario in their Kinktober 2024 and they were kind enough to give me their blessing to post my take! Please check out their fics as well!  If this scenario in particular interests you, I rec you this post! :3

Further details below the cut so that the above the cut stays safe for anyone who is just scrolling through!

18+ Content MDNI || VERE x AIS x Reader

PROMPT/KINK(S): Dom!Vere, Dacryphilia (Tears)* + Cockwarming + Size Difference + Consensual Voyeurism. Power Play. (Some feral monsterfucking spice sprinkled v lightly on top.) [*original challenge prompt, randomizer used.]

OTHER INFO: “You” pronouns used for MC/Reader. Unspecified genitalia for both POV Character and Vere but Ais has a dick. Reader is the receiving partner in penetrative sex.

“Hmm, hold that pose,” Vere purrs.

Ais huffs a hot breath into your face as he freezes above you.  His brows furrow, mouth twisting into a determined grimace as he grits his teeth.  His forearms tense hard where they are resting on either side of you, fingers flexing against the silken sheets.

You can feel him pulsing inside of you.  A hot, insistent ache.

You try to relax, try to breathe through it but the lack of movement makes you hyper aware of every inch, the raw feeling of him stretching you open, the way your body twitches so sickly-sweet with the effort.  You inhale a slow, shaking breath, chest trembling, and shut your eyes in an attempt to block out some of the sensations—the clawing need gnawing at your core.

“Eyes open, darling,” Vere corrects you, tone somewhere firmly between scolding and teasing.  “And turn your face back towards Ais.  I’m trying to capture the moment .”  Your heart is pounding in your ears but you can hear Vere’s smooth, sly voice with perfect clarity.  Ais is an overwhelming force but Vere is a magnetic presence; no matter how caught up in each other you and Ais can get, Vere will always command attention without effort.

You turn your chin as requested, only to be caught in Ais’ gaze

(Caught and breathless–the same way you were when he was bullying his thick length into your hole, thrusting sharply and sighing in satisfaction, his fingers still at work massaging and pressing and stroking as he sunk into you inch by inch; he'd prepared you until your entrance was puffy and swollen, sopping with thick, medicinal smelling lube and he still had to take his time.  Fucking you slowly until you could take all of him.  And then, the moment you finally could...)

“Hmm, that's better.  Stay just like that.  Let me see those pretty expressions.”  You hear Vere adjusting his heavy vellum paper.  The glide of quick, clever lines being drawn.

You maintain eye contact with Ais, drunk off his breath, his body, the very essence of him, hovering so close above you, and are utterly unprepared to meet his intensity.  The way he looks at you like he’s seconds from devouring you, barely held in check by the challenge that Vere has laid before him.  Before both of you.

You bite into your lower lip as you shift involuntarily, oversensitive nerves still riding the throbbing of Ais’ dick.  He’s so fucking thick and girthy that he presses at the soft spot inside you without even trying. The angry pulse of him is a gratifying thrum, stoking your aching heat by way of mere burgeoning contact.

His cock gives another strong twitch and your insides clench around him.  He feels so fucking good–you almost think you might be able to come like this, if you can get your body to keep on clenching like that. 

—Almost.

Your next breath comes out as a sob.  There’s a high pitched whine building at the base of your throat and your lashes are wet when you blink.

A monstrous snarl escapes Ais’ lips, one that you can feel even more than you can hear, the vibration of it echoing through your body everywhere you're pressed against him.  The pinnacle between your thighs pulses with it, and your toes curl involuntarily as an errant tear runs down your cheek.  Ais is shaking, sweat dampening his face, his pupils expanding and contracting rapidly, his eyes locked on you as he barely holds himself back.  “Sparrow,” he says, gravel in his tone. 

You say his name in return, your head tipping involuntarily, bearing the softness of your throat, faded marks from both your lovers decorating your skin.  You hear the sheets rip below you, torn into shreds where Ais’ nails have dug into them.

Vere sighs pointedly.  You hear him stop his work, tap his charcoal against the paper as if he’s not entirely satisfied with the scene in front of him.  He pauses for a long time, leaving you both in limbo.

When he moves, it’s to stand.  To saunter over to you both.  You’re pinned beneath Ais, unable to look away, but you can feel Vere’s shadow fall over you just before his hand touches your face, forcing your eyes to his as he catches a crystalline tear with his index finger.

“Shame,” he says, dipping his fingers into his mouth, his tongue lapping up the taste of your tears, lavishing the digits with his tongue.  You whine out a desperate, quiet note just from watching his tongue at work and he basks knowingly in the attention.  “I really thought I could get you both crying.”  He smiles dangerously once his fingers have left his mouth. 

He uses them to drag a wet path down Ais' spine.  “Oh, but the night is still young.  Perhaps I may still think of something that will do the trick...”

18+ Master List | SFW Master List ✦"Kinktober Speedrun & Other Gratuitous (TOUCHSTARVED) Smut" on Ao3

[doodle17]

GOD this design I just- gaaaahhh

I hate it

I hate it so much you guys

The detail- it's just- ITS TOO MUCH WHY IS THERE SO MUCH GOING ON THERE DOESNT NEED TO BE PLEASE

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

They just be giving drivers licenses out to anyone it seems

A lotta yall should NOT be driving 😭😭😭😭

[utilityknif3]

Nsfw!!! tehee

Imagine being Simon Ghost Riley’s ex wife who he can’t forget. You two have a son together and after being on a mission for a few weeks, he wanted to take him out somewhere for some quality time since you had full custody.

Even though he’s been away for only a few weeks, you two haven’t seen each other for months now.

…

Simon knocks on your door hesitantly. He wants to see you, he needs to. But when you open the door, he doesn’t know what to say.

You’re so beautiful, you changed but you’re glowing.

You just greet him with a simple “hi” and let him in. Simon walks in, lowering his head so he doesn’t hit it on the doorframe and you both sit on the couch and wait…

“He’s not here” you say, breaking the silence and trying to make the situation less awkward after a moment of silence.

“Where is he?” He asks with his deep voice and thick British accent that makes your heart melt each time.

“He’s at his friend’s birthday, he’ll be back later…in a few hours” you reply not daring to look at him in the eyes.

“In a few hours…aight” Simon passes a hand through his short blond hair, trying to think of something to say.

…

You two have been trying to hold a decent conversation for an hour now, catching up on your respective lives. He tells you about the struggles of his job and you tell him about whatever’s been bothering you lately…until you felt his gaze lower to your hand, especially the finger where your ring is placed, the ring he placed. The ring you can’t get rid of even though you tried to.

“You still have your wedding band?”

He asks as he stares at the ring he passed on your finger a few years before, as if he was mesmerized. He wished to do it again, and again… see you all dolled up in your pretty dress for him with that beautiful smile on your face. You two were so happy that day, like it was the best day of your lives.

He wished he could fuck you again like the night of your wedding, slowly and steadily. It was so intimate, just the two of you, his hair tickling your jaw as he pounded into you. He remembers the way your arms were wrapped around his neck and the way your hands would move to touch his hair. He remembers the sloppy kisses he gave you while he was listening to the soft symphony your moans were composing.

Simon snaps out of his transe when you answer

“Yes…it’s a pretty ring after all”

He nods.

He feels dumb for thinking that you two still had something; you moved on and it was clear.

He doesn’t want you to know that he kept the ring and a few of your things too. He doesn’t want you to know that you’re the one in his mind when he’s alone jerking himself off and overstimulating his soaked cock trying to recreate what you would do to him. He’s ashamed. The shirt that you forgot to get back from him had already been stained with his cum so many times that it doesn’t even smell like you anymore.

You already moved on but he didn’t, he never forgot your dates where you’d be just the two of you on the couch watching an old crappy movie. He never forgot the long hours he’d spend sleeping on your pregnancy belly while you’d caress gently his freshly cut hair. He never forgot the way your son would grab his big tatted arm in his small hands…He never forgot the feeling of your pussy squeezing him and taking him so well. The way you’d ride him on nights he felt tired, or the way your tongue would swirl around his tip, trying to milk every drop of cum he had left in him.

Simon loves you, he loves everything about you and never stoped loving you…

…

…that’s why you’re on the couch right now with his face buried in between your thighs. Simon’s tongue passes through your folds and teases your clit slowly while you scratch his hair. He’s so good for you, going a bit faster each time he hears you whimper.

The tip of his tongue teases your soaking hole while your toes curl around nothing.

After a moment of this sweet torture, he finally decides that his pants were getting too tight and stops licking you. He lifts his eyes to look at you, his face all red from embarrassment as your hand leaves his hair.

“Please, let me fuck you like you deserve” He asks politely while you’re panting heavily. At this point, his dick is the only thing you’ve been wanting. It’s been a while, too long.

You agree with a nod and he doesn’t hesitate to lift you up and put you gently on the kitchen counter. He used to make love to you for hours on it, it was the perfect height. He could fuck you from the front with your legs over his shoulders or from the back with your boobs pressed against the cold granite countertop.

He takes a moment to appreciate your body and watches you all vulnerable and needy for him. He wants to make you cry, to make you beg for more because he knows you will want more. He’s the only one who knows what’s best for you.

As you adjust your body on the counter, Simon hurries to take his fully hard boner out of his pants and boxers. It’s bigger than you remember, covered of his precum and ready to stuff you full of his semen.

You bite your lip in anticipation the moment he grips your thigh to holds it up. He’s so hot when he’s on top, his eyebrows are furrowed as he lines up his dick with the hole of your soaked cunt.

He puts it in with a low “fuck” escaping his lips. You feel so good around him.

Simon pounds into you, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs, making sure to leave dark bruises on your skin. He’s loosing himself into your folds feeling your burning walls squeeze his cock too much for him to hold his orgasm.

He burries his dick deeply into you, his tip kissing your cervix at each thrust and eventually it begins to feel too stimulating, too good. Simon cums into you but doesn’t stop his hips from moving. The white substance drips down to the counter and his moans are higher and louder. Now, his thrust are messy and uneven because of the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling trying to bring you to your climax.

You reach it eventually, your own juices melting with his as you two are panting messes. Simon looks at you, at your beautiful face he missed so much. He won’t let you go again.

…

About an hour later, after a good shower, he randomly decides to kiss you and mumbles “I love you”

I know the end is ass idk how to end fics 🤯 and tbh I know that my writing sucks also bc I have great ideas but poor grammar and vocabulary 😓 I promise to get better bear with me 🙌🏾

[merakidoll]

porn star toji .. whorellowen addition!

here you were again, in such an awkward predicament that in your heart you couldn’t feel bad for. from the first collaboration with toji you didn’t realize how much everyone loved you two as a pair. so what was better than you and toji - you and toji halloween addition. you were naked as the day you were born, the lights making you dizzy but your eyesight directly focusing on the man above you. the jason mask was dirty, splats of fake blood and his rough voice. you could see his dark eyes, the hidden meaning behind them - and god you couldn’t feel bad.

he was fucking your pussy dumb. bottoming down inside of you while your mushy walls kept closing in on him. “o-oh goodness” your makeup was ruined, the same take going on for hours upon hours, toji being nuzzled in your with no orgasm happing, you both being pushed to the edge. “you like that slut?” his rough tone had your back arching, his large hands sliding the mask up to just go over his hair, just so you could see his face. “i asked a fuckin question” toji bit his lip groaning when a rope of pre cum came out and made a mess in you. your legs were shaky, mind foggy, trying to push at his stomach.

“t-too much i-icanttt” the room was tense everyone enjoying the show that was happening on the fake room in front of them - even his wife. “yes you can. you already doin it baby, like a good girl” the man’s words came from within, you were being such a good girl for him, despite that constant building up of an orgasm and it being taken away. the pads of his finger softly rubbed your skin, rising your shaky leg up and your feet positioned to be in front of his face. “t-toj-” you said softly a small whine, but was cut off with him shushing you, thrust going slow, deeper from how he turned your body slightly to push past where he was. “ya’there?” his words were whispered, as if it was only you and him in the room.

you nodded quickly so fast that you neck felt a little strained, he nodded with you. a smirk on his lips all up until he kissed your calf, tounge coming out of his mouth to move up, your pretty toes that was polished in a pink was his nest victim. his eyes focused on yours, his pace picking back up when a soft kiss was placed on your feet, tounge swirling around your big toe that has you creaming from pleasure, a cream circle being made around his grith, long, length. “o-oh nooo!” you cried pussy clenching trying to hold the orgasm, the embarrassment of everyone about to see you come undone - and that’s never happened.

“yes baby, f-fuck yes!” you threw your head back, his fat mushroom head nudging at your cervix a painful pleasure shooting through your body as you came. your eyes opened slightly; so low, and you made eye contact with no one other than the man who was fucking you wife. you couldn’t care staring her in the eyes when toji let an animalistic grunt out, and a feeling of your pussy being filled. you could hear a small “good fuckin pussy” just before your eyes shut, the pleasure being too much.

“and cut” they said once you both fell limp into the bed. silence filling the room, and everyone’s eyes watching the two pornstars cuddle in the bed with heavy breaths. everyone watched the thick cum fall from your agape hole. they passed small glances to the wife who had yet to say or do anything but look at you two. and she herself couldn’t deny the ache between her legs

[ddejavvu]

mean! logan fucking his girl while holding her in a headlock 🤤🤤🤤

Logan Howlett x Reader

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, manhandling, he has reader in a headlock, don't like don't read.

Your nose gets pushed into the sheets over and over again, and you're sure it'll be raw later, but not as raw as your cunt. Or your neck, which Logan has in an impressive chokehold. His biceps are bulging as he holds you both up on his elbows, your neck securely pinched between his bicep and his forearm as he pins you to his chest.

He's grunting like a rabid animal, teeth bared beside your ear as he fucks your cunt mercilessly from behind. His hips slap against your ass at the same frequency that your face is slammed into the mattress, and you can barely moan before your tongue hits the sheets.

"Logan-" You wheeze, clawing at his arm for purchase, begging for respite from the crick quickly forming in your neck as Logan holds you in place.

"Where you goin', huh? Stay put," He growls, arm tightening around your throat- not to cut off your oxygen but to fizzle out the weak writhing that you've started up on the bed. Your movements are only making things inconvenient for him, and he holds you steady so that he can continue driving his cock into your hole.

"Logan, I want-" Your protests crumble into a whimper, Logan's bulk caging you in as you writhe uselessly against his strength. There's nothing to be done- he's infinitely stronger than you and he's decided that today you'll move how he wants you to move- you'll be fucked how he wants you to be fucked.

"Shut up," He snarls, bracing more of his weight on your torso so that you sink further into the mattress, "Just fuckin- wait, wait 'til I'm done with you and then you can move around however you want. I'll give you a mouthful'uh my dick if you just wait, shit- make it easy for me, baby, just lemme have you like this."

"Take me, Logan. Take me- have me however you want me," You whine, taking a sudden burst of pride in going limp in his arms: you'll be his perfect little fuckdoll. You'll let him use your hole to get off, and then you'll get to clean him up afterwards. You know your safeword by heart and right now it's the last word you'd ever dare to utter, not when Logan's hitting that delicious spot inside of you that makes your legs tremble.

He snickers, voice suddenly clearer and darker, "You're a fighter. S'funny watchin' you squirm like that. You think you could wrestle me off, sweetheart?"

He flexes his biceps and you feel it against the thin skin of your throat, your heart pounding as you arch back into his rapidly quickening thrusts, "Mm, that make you all crazy? Thinkin' about wrestling with me? Rollin' around and getting pinned down, that's what does it for you?"

You cry out into the mattress as Logan viciously fucks into your cunt from behind, your neck still caught in his strong arm.

"Good," He grunts, breathy and gruff as his weight bullies you flat into the mattress, "'Cause I'll win that fight every time, sweetheart."

[fairsweetlonging]

time travel au where liu qingge and shen qingqiu (yuan) end up accidentally traveling a decade back in time before luo binghe was amitted to qing jing peak and before shen qingqiu had his qi deviation, but after their generation has risen to peak lords.

which means, shen yuan realizes quickly, as they're accosted by said peak lords, that he will have to face shen jiu.

as they're being cleared for demonic energy and the likes, mu qingfang of course instantly detects the poison without a cure eating away at shen yuan's meridians. liu qingge pulls a copy of the treatment plan out of his sleeve (shen yuan blushes a bit, did liu qingge always keep that on hand?), and just like in the current timeline, they agree to keep it under wraps.

shen jiu tries various times to get a moment alone with shen yuan, but he never quite manages because liu qingge is there, who is also... nice?? to him?? for some reason?? shen jiu gets a bit flustered at the solemn politeness and skitters off.

it comes out pretty quickly that shen yuan has "memory loss", and thus can't remember anything that's currently taking place in this time. shen yuan expects scorn, hatred and disdain from shen jiu, expects to be grabbed and interrogated, to arouse suspicion.

but shen jiu looks....... sad???

being transported here threw shen yuan's qi off-balance (even liu qingge had to sit down, which means it's bad), and his cultivation is already so unstable, so when the peak lords are all squabbling and arguing and threatening and raising their voice, he can feel his body shut down. he sees yue qingyuan start to move towards him, which, knowing the future yue qingyuan, he really isn't up for right now—but before the sect leader can get to him someone else is at his back, transferring him qi, holding him up gently by his shoulders, then coaxing him up, leading him outside

shen yuan's been fed qi by every peak lord at least once. he doesn't recognize this one. that means it can only be one person.

he looks up. it's shen jiu.

and it's bizarre, getting fussed over by the scum villain, having gentle hands run along his back, his hair, that clear, soothing voice calming him down. and somehow shen jiu knows exactly what to do?? somehow it works perfectly on him?? it's almost as if shen jiu has known him his whole—

oh.

bodies, like homes, hold memories, even if the original occupants are no longer there. it's the milestone marks on the doorpost that chart a child's growth, blurry photographs faded by time, scuffed floors from well-walked paths, and tiny holes in the walls where pictures once hung.

shen jiu takes him to the bamboo house, pours him tea, and asks, calmly, what he remembers from their childhood.

it's not his childhood, so shen yuan doesn't actually remember anything, but the body he's in does. the memories it holds are emotional rather than visual; he remembers being alone, scared, and hungry. he remembers anger, pain. a dark room. loud voices. he remembers his heart skipping a beat when heavy boots stomp his way. the sound of a whip.

he doesn't have to lie. the memories aren't his own, and they're from long ago, which means shen jiu has them too. and, he supposes, this is his only chance to find out what really happened.

but shen jiu doesn't say anything about it. he just nods and stares, intensely. then he asks shen yuan if he remembers yue qingyuan. shen yuan says no, he doesn't. the conversation takes a very strange turn after that. shen yuan can't help but feel a little queasy when shen jiu asks him if yue qingyuan has taken advantage of his memory loss.

"has he come into your home? has he brought you gifts, sweets? does he invite you for tea? did you accept?"

he has. shen yuan doesn't know why that would be a problem, the sect leader has been nothing but kind and helpful and patient. and generous, too.

when he says yes shen jiu looks furious.

liu qingge (his one) comes to pick him up, and his time with shen jiu is cut short. somewhere he's glad, cuddling into liu qingge's back as he holds him while they fly. he feels a little bad for yue qingyuan, knowing he's probably caused a big fight, but it doesn't sit right with him. he wishes he knew what happened.

.

liu qingge, meanwhile, is having the time of his life fighting himself. it's good practice!

[kathaynesart]

Took a bit of time to myself to finally sketch out my vision for Frida based off Andy Suriano’s Farewell. More design thoughts under the cut.

I know some were wary of her appearing too feminine, but honestly I enjoyed the challenge of finding a way to feminize the base turtle model and stay true to Andy’s wonderful design. I don’t want her to just look like her brothers in a show that embraces their differences.

The biggest thing I added to her design was an exposed heart. My own little twist inspired by a real life issue some turtles deal with as well as a fitting ode to the artist she is named after, Frida Kahlo, who often drew herself with her heart floating outside of her body. (And yes I made the creative decision to keep her heart at her center as with many turtles.)

This deformity occurred during her mutation where the sudden growth spurt tore open a hole at the seam of her plastron. She has survived as long as she has because of Big Mama who uses mystic wards to keep her heart physically safe and emotionally numb. If you look closely to her plastron in the show it’s not actually a natural body part but rather seems to be an attachment of her trench coat. Likely a false cover to hide her obvious weak spot (or at least that is my head canon!)

I love the idea of her and Donnie having something they can relate to and I’m sure he’ll be happy to design chest armor for her down the line once she’s free of Big Mama. Maybe someday I’ll figure out her full Mad Dogs outfit, but for now this is just her base and bandana.

As each of the boys embodies a shape, I found it all too fitting to have Frida’s be a heart. It’s honestly a cool shape that uses both rounded forms and sharp points, which I think would encapsulate her character well. Prickly on the surface but a softy deep down. I tried to find less typical ways of feminizing her. Sharpening her beak and digits while retaining the style of feminine eyes present in most of the female cast but matching it more closely to the unsettling shape of the eyes on her assistant’s mask.

Her markings are a color flip of Mikey’s, where as his are yellow spots with orange outlines hers are orange with yellow outlines. Coupled with her yellow eyes to match Donnie and Raph, it gives her this fiery vibe that I think still sets her far apart from Mikey.

The mask was honestly the hardest part. I love that it further accentuates her heart motif and made her more expressive, but just giving her the obvious bow and calling it a day did not sit well with me. I decided to try more of a high ponytail look, but I think it still needs some work. I’m pretty sure I like her with yellow though, both as a nod to Jennika and the idea of April giving her something of her own to help form the bond between the two.

Would love to flesh her out further but back to my usual stuff first.

[pupkashi]

satoru comeback truthers rise WHERE IS UR RAGE !!!

youre still slightly shaking, even with one hand in your lovers warmer one, you can’t help but feel the same fear you felt when you saw him laying in two.

“sweetheart” his voice is honey like, smoothing your sore throat as you look up at him, face dirty and scarred. “i asked if you wanna get pho?”

it’s odd, coming back home as if nothing happened. as if he hadn’t just had the battle of a lifetime and almost lost. your legs feel wobbly and that sinking pit in your stomach is back. you bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling, playing it off as you thinking.

“yeah pho sounds good” you say weakly, not taking your eyes off of satoru as he leads you to the couch. he tries to untangle your fingers from his, stopping when he feels your squeeze harder to keep his hand in place.

he doesn’t say anything, instead ordering with one hand, drawing a soothing circle with his thumb on your hand. satoru can feel your eyes on him, practically burning a hole into his skull with the intensity of your stare. he doesn’t mind, he can’t imagine how you felt, thinking he was dead for who knows how long. god knows what he would’ve done if the roles were reversed.

“ordered it, should be here in an hour ish” he whispers, pulling you close and laying back on the couch. you’re quick to wrap your arms around him, careful to not squeeze too hard as he was still sore and bruised.

thump, thump, thump.

the rhythmic beating is enough to calm you for a moment, your hands are less shaky and you feel like you can finally breathe. your eyes shut for a second, only to be met with the scene of satoru laying on ground. your eyes are shooting open immediately, making you sit up straight and giving satoru a once over, relieved to see he was really there.

“hey, im right here” he’s as gentle as ever, hands finding yours and squeezing tight. “im not going anywhere” he’s promises, placing one of your hands over his warm chest, the rhythmic beating of his heart calms you once more.

“‘m sorry” you choke out, wiping your eyes quickly before smiling softly, “was just- it was a lot” you mumble, “i thought-” you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence, satoru doesn’t make you, pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head.

the two of you stay like that for a while, taking turns holding each other, comforting one another and placing endless kisses on each others faces. it felt like only a moment had passed in comparison to the eternity you felt without satoru.

satoru notices the way your eyes linger on him, the way you’re looking at him every couple minutes as the two of you eat soup in silence. it hurts his heart, seeing you so afraid and traumatized, he wishes he could go back in time and make sure they kept you away from any screens.

the season finale of the show you two had been watching doesn’t matter to you much anymore, barely paying attention to it. your focus is instead on the white haired man laying practically on top of you, mindlessly eating some popcorn you’d made for him.

your fingers are tangled in his hair, somehow still soft despite everything he went through. satoru can feel your eyes on him, of course he can. he wonders if you’re looking at his scarred skin, if you’re too scared to even continue a relationship with him.

“you should shower” your comment is what breaks the silence and interrupts satoru’s spiraling thoughts.

“huh?” there’s genuine confusion in his voice. is that really what you were thinking about? “are you calling me stinky?” he teases, testing the waters.

“grimy, actually” a small smile creeping on your lips. it makes satoru’s heart glow, a wide grin on his lips as he sees your smile.

“your words cut deep” he pouts, quickly smiling again when you roll your eyes at his familiar antics. “even sukuna didn’t hurt me this much” the words make you gasp, smacking him slightly and pushing him off the couch.

“uncalled for!” you laugh, shrieking when satoru stands from the floor and picks you up swiftly. he doesn’t think k twice before peppering kisses over your face and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“now you’re stinky too!” he wastes no time in heading to the restroom, with you still in his arms (hardly putting up a fight). he sets you on the counter softly, bending down to be eye level with you. his nose is only centimeters from yours, and you can’t resist the urge to rub yours against his.

satoru giggles at your action; the noise alone puts your heart at ease, the weight on your shoulders lifted and things felt right.

for the time the two of you are in the restroom life is perfect again. even when satoru takes his shirt off, visibly nervous about the new scar across his torso, you’re too happy to have him there to care.

“you don’t think it looks, i don’t know, ugly?” he’s avoiding eye contact and you can’t help but laugh softly. the sound makes his head snap towards you immediately, relaxing when you take his hands in his and pull him closer.

“you could never look ugly, angel boy” you mumble, kissing his lips. “i think it looks good, actually” you grin, wiggling your eyebrows and making his cheeks flush pink. satoru wastes no time kissing you again, giggling against your lips.

the hot water hits his skin and it feels like a godsend, making hums sigh in relief.

“told you you should shower” you tease, making your lover grin at your words. he waves you off gently, relishing in the feeling. “c’mere let me shampoo you.”

satoru doesn’t hesitate, a faint smile on his lips when your fingers scratch his scalp. maybe it’s the steam enshrouding the two of you, or seeing you change into his clothes, or smelling the clean bedsheets again, or being home- regardless of the reason satoru finally feels free.

there’s no stress on his shoulders from the higher ups or his clan, he’s not afraid of his students getting hurt anymore, he’s not afraid of losing you.

“i love you sweetheart” he whispers. you’ve been asleep for a while now, your head on his chest with your arms wrapped tightly around him. maybe it was weird but he didn’t care, he spent the night tracing your features with his eyes, memorizing any noise you made and the way you breathed.

satoru’s eyes watered, grateful to be back home. his eyes wandering to his sock drawer, tomorrow he’ll pull out the small velvet box he bought a year ago.

taglist: @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

[newttxt]

the best way to luffy’s stomach is through his heart (or something like that)

a four page one piece fancomic in which luffy and law talk about luffy’s stomach

page 1

panel 1: a top view of luffy and law sitting in grass. luffy is leaning back on his hands with his legs outstretched. law sits crosslegged between them. they are both looking down at the hole in luffy’s abdomen, where law has used his devil fruit power to remove his stomach. “whoa! cool!” says luffy, while law hums, “hmm… interesting.”

panel 2: a close-up of law’s hand holding luffy’s stomach in its cube-like container. “it looks surprisingly average,” law says, “for a bottomless pit.”

panel 3: “isn’t it weird?” luffy asks. he is sitting with his back to the viewer, but his smile is still visible as he leans into law’s space. law is still crosslegged, holding the stomach, and he looks vaguely uncomfortable as luffy keeps talking. luffy says, “that thing can make food stop looking like food and start looking like poop! huh. wonder how it does that…”

page 2

panel 1: law looks off to the side, sweating and kinda grouchy. knowing he’ll regret this, he mutters, “i… know how… at least for NORMAL humans.”

panel 2: the back of luffy’s head takes up most of the panel as he demands, “what?! i wanna know too!” law grits his teeth and shouts back, “you’re just gonna fall asleep!” and luffy yells, “nuh-uh!”

panel 3: luffy grins widely, throws his arms out to the side, and flops onto his back in the grass. he’s loudly yelling, “tell me! tell me, traffy!”

page 3

panel 1: law is visible from a low-angle, as if from luffy’s pov on the ground. he sighs, “fine. here’s how it works.”

panel 2: this panel looks similar to the previous, but its slightly darker, with gray bars at the top and bottom, narrowing visibility to show luffy’s eyes are closing. law continues, “the stomach has two main functions.”

panel 3: law is now barely visible through the gap. luffy is almost asleep. law says, “the first, as YOU know, is the storage of food.”

panel 4: the background is completely dark, and law’s words trail off, “the second is—“

page 4

panel 1: a large, top view of luffy lying on his back in the grass. his arms are thrown wide still and his eyes are open. he has just jolted awake, saying, “hmm?” off-screen, law complains, “i don’t know WHY i bothered.”

panel 2: law accuses, “you didn’t listen to a word i said.” luffy sits up, his lips pursed and eyes narrowed because he’s a terrible liar. he says, “sure i did,” dragging out the “sure.”

panel 3: luffy breaks into a grin and proudly declares, “it’s a mystery!” law cuts him off with a “NO,” his speech bubble literally dripping with disdain.

panel 4: the silhouette of luffy and law sitting side by side. law is whapping luffy on the head with a light fist. law says, “idiot…” before bonking him. luffy yells, “hey!” but he is laughing, and a small “heh” shows law is too.

[aemondfairy]

Blood Lust

summary: With his ego inflated after Rook’s Rest, Aemond makes another move against the blacks — taking you.

pairing: Aemond x Niece!Reader

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: Explicit smut, dark!Aemond, incest, oral sex (f recieving), p in v sex, heavy dubcon, loss of virginity, mention of blood, knife play, angst!!! 18+ MDNI

Destiny was a fickle thing but Aemond Targaryen knew three things for certain: he was destined to lose an eye, destined to claim the largest dragon of the known world and destined to be with you.

For as long as Aemond could remember, he wanted you, dreamed of you. The mere thought of you made his cock ache at any moment.

It was not as if Aemond had no other options. There were plenty of Lord’s willing to send their daughters to King’s Landing to be married off to a prince.

As lovely as those girls might have been, they all shared the same detrimental flaw: they simply were not you. You were a member of House Targaryen — bastard born or not, the blood of Old Valyria ran deep within your veins. You were a skilled dragon rider, you carried yourself with grace, held a quick wit, spoke your mother tongue. Above all else, you had been there for Aemond when no one else was. You were perfect.

Aemond had no interest in being betrothed to a Baratheon or a Lannister, nor an Arryn or a Stark; even the most beautiful girl the Tyrell’s had to offer would simply never compare. After a denied proposal for a betrothal and you being taken away to Dragonstone Aemond felt powerless — until now.

Your entire body aches as you make out your surroundings. You had been taken in the middle of the night, forced onto dragon back with your hands and feet tied.

“Listen to me,” your uncle says as he crouches in front of you, “if you scream the guards will come and you’ll be thrown in the dungeons. You have no friends here except me. Do you understand?”

You nod your head in agreement, desperate to be free of the makeshift gag he had made for you.

“Aemond, this is treason,” you state plainly.

“Treason, would be betraying the crown, sweet niece,” he responds, “I am the crown.”

“Fuck you!” you grumble at him.

“Iksos bona skoros ao jaelagon?” Is that what you want?

Against your better judgment, you spit right in his face, observing him nervously as he wipes it away.

“Fiesty little thing you are.”

“What do you want with me, Aemond? Will you force me to kneel before you? Carve out my eye? Perhaps I’ll suffer the same fate as my brother?”

Ah, Lucerys. He was waiting for you to bring that up.

“While I’m sure that seeing you on your knees is a glorious sight, I have other plans for you.”

“I have no desire to bed you, Aemond. I am betrothed.”

The smirk on his face slightly drops at that. Betrothed.

“And where is Lord Stark now?” He questions casually.

“Preparing his army for war.”

“I wonder how it must feel?” he goes on, “to be whored out? Practically sold like a broodmare so that your pretender of a mother can build herself an army?”

“Better to be his whore than your war prize.”

The mask of cruelty on Aemond's face fades for a moment, and for a second, he almost looks hurt at your words.

“Is that what you think? That you’re merely a ‘prize’? You wound me, dear niece. Do you not remember that I love you?”

Ice fills your veins at his confession and your heart drops into your stomach. Things could’ve been different, they should’ve been.

“I don’t understand why things had to escalate in this way, Aemond,” you say as you start to cry, “you could’ve —“ you choke back a sob, “you could’ve had me.”

Aemond takes your chin in his hands as he lets out a laugh.

“I do have you, baby.”

Fear courses through you at his words. Aemond unsheathes a knife from his jacket pocket and holds it to your chest for a brief moment before pulling away.

“Hold still,” he demands as he cuts the rope that holds your ankles together.

You wince as Aemond forcefully spreads your legs apart, violently cutting a hole into your undergarments, exposing your cunt to him.

“Tell me, has Stark fucked this pretty little pussy yet?”

He knows he hasn’t, he knows you and Cregan still have yet to meet. He wants to hear you say it.

“N-no,” you stutter as you continue to cry. Gods, you look so pretty when you cry, Aemond thinks to himself. He only smirks in response.

“You are still a maiden, right, sweet one? You haven’t let little Lord Strong defile you, have you?”

“Gods, Aemond. No.”

“Hm,” Aemond frowns, “a shame for him, really. Now he’ll never have the chance being that you will never see him again.”

“They’ll come for you,” you tell him.

“If they wish to keep me away from you and your perfect cunt they’ll have to kill you,” he muses, “But even then…”

A darkness takes over your uncles face and you soon realize the Aemond you once knew is gone. You are dealing with a whole new monster. He is an animal, a beast — and you are merely prey.

“Do you touch yourself?” he asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

“S-sometimes,” you whisper, feeling ashamed, but finding it difficult to lie to him.

“What do you think about when you do?”

“Not you,” you retort.

He runs two fingers through your soft folds, causing you to gasp, before bringing his fingers up to the light.

“Liar,” he states as his fingers glisten, coated in your slick. “You know you don’t have to lie to me, baby. I think about you, too…”

You can’t help but notice the evident bulge in your uncle's pants, his cock strains against the delicate fabric. You can tell how big he is. You try your best to divert your gaze elsewhere.

“Now, I’m going to untie your wrists. Might I remind you of what I said earlier: You are far better off in here, with me, than out there,” he says, pointing to the door with his dagger.

You’re not sure if you believe him. At this point, you might prefer to be thrown in the dungeon with the rats, left to starve. Instead of arguing, you simply nod your head as Aemond cuts you free.

You feel wobbly as you stand on your feet, Aemond holds your hands as you gain your composure. Your ankles and wrists feel sore, but Aemond rubs his thumb against your wrist soothingly.

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as that familiar ache between your legs begins to grow. You know you shouldn't be aroused by this behavior, but your body is betraying you.

Aemond picks you up swiftly and places you onto his bed. There was a time where you dreamed of this. If only your younger self could see you now.

Your thoughts are interrupted once again as Aemond’s large hand wraps around your throat. He squeezes lightly, trying to keep you in your place. You make a feeble attempt to push him away, but he is too strong and you can’t break free.

“Please, don’t be afraid of me,” he pleads, “I need you,” the timbre of his voice is so low that you aren’t sure if he meant for you to hear. His free hand moves to your breast, massaging it roughly through your chemise.

"You are so beautiful," he says, leaning over you. You feel him press himself against you, his cock rubbing against your leg, pre-cum leaks out of the tip and smears onto your thigh.

He pushes back and nestles himself comfortably between your thighs. His dexterous fingers part your folds ever so gently, exposing you to him completely.

“Gods, you’re perfect. The most perfect girl in the entire realm,” he groans before his face is buried between your thighs. His plump lips suck at your clit as he prods at it with his tongue before moving up and down your slit. You feel yourself getting wetter, arousal leaks from your core and Aemond laps it up eagerly. On instinct, you spread your legs even further apart, your body betraying you once again.

Aemond licks harder, and you feel the soft muscle of his tongue slip inside you. A loud moan erupts from your chest as a tight knot forms in the pit of your stomach. Your hand shoots down to to tug at Aemond’s silver tresses.

You’re so close, you’ve never been touched like this before and one final glide of his tongue pushes you over the edge. You cry out loudly as you cum, your vision going blurry as your cunt contracts around him.

Aemond pulls himself from your core and stands up, grabbing your hips. He harshly pulls you to the edge of the bed and you feel his cock pressing against you. You eagerly push towards him this time. There is no point in fighting him. You gasp as he enters you fully, filling you completely. The stretch is overwhelming, a tight burning sensation. The fullness begins to feel good as your silky walls flutter around him.

“Just relax,” he coos, “I know you want me.”

You feel his cock twitch inside you slightly as he groans, leaning down to bite your shoulder.

“Fuuuck,” he drawls, “you’re so tight and wet, baby, so perfect; just like I dreamed you would be.”

Your cheeks bloom crimson at his praise and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him tightly as he fucks into you. The sharp pain soon fades into pleasure. The fat tip of his cock relentlessly bullies that sweet spot inside you that you were never able to reach on your own.

Aemond reaches up to paw at your breast, pinching at your nipple roughly, and a wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your spine tingles and your toes curl, causing you to moan in response.

"You think Stark could fuck you like this? Make you feel the way I do? That anyone could?" He rasps as his thrusts become relentless. He slaps your face when you fail to give him an answer. A shameful whimper escapes you.

"Answer. Me." he demands between thrusts, his teeth gritted together, his thumb swiping over the rosy, delicate flesh where he hit you.

“N-no, Aemond! Only you, just you! I'm sorry!” you all but choke out to him.

“That’s right, my sweet. You were fuckin’ made for me,” he grunts before pausing his thrusts, his hips stuttering before he pulls his cock out of you almost entirely. Making note of the blood that coats his shaft, hoping you don’t notice.

“You know it, I know it, your mother knows it,” he grits out, “you’re mine.”

“Yes, Aemond, I’m — fuck! I’m yours,” you mewl.

“Do you love me?" he asks, your mind is hazy, and stars blur your vision as he continues to drill into you. Even while he is taking control, his insecurity still has a way of shining through his cruel demeanor.

You loved him once, long ago. Maybe you could love him again? You know the answer he is looking for is not ‘maybe.’

"Kessa, Avy jorrāelan." Yes, I love you.

Aemond grins at this, impressed with your knowledge of your shared mother tongue.

He slams his cock into you full force, stilling as he presses hard against your cervix, making you cry out again. His hand tangles in your hair as he places his forehead against yours.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he tells you.

You grip at his hips, pulling him into you.

“C-cum inside me,” you moan through bated breaths, “claim me as your own, once and for all.”

“You’ve always been mine,” he says as he complies, pushing into you deeply as he shoots his hot cum inside of you, warmth blooming in your chest as he does so; before collapsing on top of you.

“What happens now?” you ask, as he gently pulls himself out of your heat, allowing his seed to seep onto the bed sheets.

“This is just the beginning.”

[eclipseslayer]

DEEP IN THE VINES

➭ LAIOS TOUDEN X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT

➭ Summary: You and Laios get separated from the group and encounter a strange monster.

➭ CW: DUBCON! Tentacles, sex pollen, penetration, dirty talk, nipple play.

➭ WC: 4k

➭ A/N: Hello first Dungeon Meshi fic! Good to be here. Also I used the Greek word "plokami" which means "tentacle" for the monster. Idk. I made everything else about it up. ➭ Please like & reblog if you enjoyed!

"What a pain."

You groan, looking ahead of you as you view the endless sea of thick, long vines that hang down from what appears to be a very tall ceiling. The vines stretch all the way from the top, and don't stop stretching until they reach the floor, dragging on the dungeon floor like snakes, making it very hard to navigate your way through this maze that you and Laios fell into, thus separating yourselves from the rest of the group.

Laios has to agree with you as he lets out an exasperated sigh. He shakes his head as he figures Chilchuck is laughing with glee as Laios' curiosity for monsters finally lands him in a heap of trouble.

Laios draws his sword and grips the handle, and begins to cut through the thick vines, creating a pathway for you to follow him through.

"At least these vines aren't the man-eating ones," he grumbles as he cuts through a thick layer of vines.

You nod and you look around at the vines around you, taking in the different shapes and sizes of the vines, noting how some are thin and some are thick, and also noting how the colors are only brown and green, and then you look down at the array daggers strapped to your thighs. There's no way in hell you'd be able to cut through them with these daggers, so you just decide to let Laios do all of the work.

"Yeah... thank goodness," you say under your breath, replying absent-mindedly as you look around the vines again, your anxiety only grows as you see nothing but jungles of vines for miles. "Hey, Laios? How do we even know we're going in the right direction? I mean, we fell through a hole in the dungeon floor. We don't even know where we are."

Laios suddenly stops cutting and comes to a freeze, which makes you halt from behind him. He sighs again and rubs the back of his head, his fingers going through his blonde hair.

"Well..." He chuckles nervously. "I don't know if we're going in the right direction. I figured if I just started cutting then maybe we'd see some sort of clearing along the way that could at least give us some indication as to where we are, but... these vines are so dense..." His words fall off as if he already sounds defeated even though you can't possibly be more than twenty feet in.

You feel your heart clench at how defeated Laios already sounds. Usually—between him and Marcille—he's the optimistic one in the group, so to see him feel already so defeated makes you feel horrible. You reach up and with a small thunk, you put your hand on his shoulder and give him a sympathetic look.

"Hey. We'll make it out of here. I know Marcille is already panicking, finding some kind of magic spell that can track us down," you say with a chuckle, and that earns you a smile from Laios. "Don't worry. Let's just try to find some sort of clearing and we can rest, okay? I'll even..." You sigh, shaking your head. "...I'll even cook us up some of these vines for us, okay?" You tap one of the vines beside you.

With your words of encouragement, Laios' face seems to brighten up. He chuckles and looks down before slicing ahead with his sword again.

"You're right. Thanks. Let's go find us a clearing."

With another swing of Laios' sword, you continue the journey of trying to get out of this (literal) hellhole. The journey is long, and Laios has to switch arms regularly and also switches with you to chop the vines down because of how tired his arms had become, but, eventually, the thick sea of vines finally gets thinner and thinner, until finally, with one final swipe of the sword, you've reached a clearing.

It's a pond, a rather large one, that expands about forty yards. Surrounding the pond is nothing but lush, forest green with tall grass and trees with long, hanging leaves and limbs that droop down in a curling pattern. Mushrooms and flowers dot the forest floor, and sparkles of light seem to shimmer throughout the air. It's almost as if this space was right out of a storybook.

"Wow..." You step out from behind Laios, pushing away the vines from beside you and step into the grass, which is a huge contrast from that to the cobble from the dungeon floor.

"This is so strange," Laios notes, which breaks you out of your awestruck spell and turns you to face him. He's still standing at the boundary of the vines and the grassy area.

"Why would this area be here in the middle of the dungeon? I mean, it's not like we're on the upper levels of the dungeon anymore where you'd see grass," he mutters, and he slowly turns his head around to look at the pond ahead of you.

His logical way of thinking has you huff and you roll your eyes, as if dungeons were logical in the first place. They were ruled by magic and monsters—so why is this area any different?

"Oh come on, Laios. Relax." You look at him with an exasperated expression, your eyes droopy from how tired you feel from walking and cutting down vines. You rub your sore shoulder. "It's a dungeon, remember? Dungeons are weird. Maybe this is the dungeon seeing our poor, tired feet, so it decided to give us a break."

Your mind is already made up as you find yourself a big rock under a tree and sit yourself down in it, and you start opening up your bag to grab yourself a treat—that Senshi had made—to munch on.

You hear armor clinking and a sigh coming up from behind you as Laios takes a spot next to you to sit on the grass.

"I suppose you're right... still, though, let's be on our guard. Something about this doesn't feel right to me."

You raise an eyebrow at this as you take a bite of your honey-covered mandrake. You chew for a moment before speaking, and you turn to look at the blonde who's also taking out his treat from Senshi.

"Usually you're so excited about new monsters to find in these types of areas, Laios. Where's all of that excitement?"

He takes a bite from the food, and for a moment his face lights up but it soon fades away as he answers your question. "Oh, trust me, I'm excited about the monsters here, but, I'm just being cautious. I mean, as beautiful as this place is, it's surrounded by an endless sea of thick vines. Isn't it a bit eerie to you that this place just sticks out like a sore thumb?"

Well, when he puts it like that, you seem to have suddenly lost your appetite. You frown and put the mandrake back into your bag, closing the flap on it before you look up at the armored blonde. Maybe he's right. Maybe you should be more cautious, considering the things you and your group have ran into in the dungeon. For crying out loud, you fell into a gaping hole that led to this, so maybe Laios is right.

You huff and put your chin on your hand. "Maybe you're right... still, though." You look around the lush green surrounded by the wall of vines. "So far there aren't any threats so I think we should relax."

There's a brief moment of silence between the two of you, and you know that means the gears in Laios' head must be turning as he continues to chew on the mandrake. He stares off into the distance as he thinks, which you've picked up on as you've traveled with him, so you poke his side between the clunk and mesh of his armor.

"Hey. What is it?"

Laios is quiet as he continues to chew. His stare remains on the pond in front of you, and his eyes narrow. You raise an eyebrow, and slowly, you turn your gaze to where he staring and realization dawns on you when you see he's staring at the ripples in the water.

You feel your heart thump in your chest as you watch the water ripple. At first, you think it's harmless due to the ripples being small, but with each passing moment, they begin to grow, steadily.

"I've been thinking about what kind of monsters we might see here," Laios says suddenly, making you whip your head back to him. "And I've realized that only plokami tend to hang around environments like these..."

"Plokami?" Your voice quivers.

"Yeah... big monsters with tentacles that live partially in lakes but come out of the water to either hunt or mate. They have long talon-like claws that stick out of their tentacles to stab, and then squeeze and eventually sedate their prey with this toxin that emits from them," his words sound more excited as he continues, and he sits up straight as he keeps his focus on the rippling water, but your fear only increases as he goes into lengthy detail, "but when they mate, they use their suction cups and retract their claws to grab ahold of their mate, and they release that same toxin to sedate their mate so they have an easier time to coerce that mate into, well, mating with them! Isn't that neat?"

Laios' eyes are shimmering with excitement as he continues to stare out into the water, but all you feel is bouts of fear bubbling up inside you as he talks.

"Also!" Laios continues, not giving you a chance to respond. "When they come out of the water, they like to hang out in tall trees with big vines so it looks like they're camouflaging right in with their tentacles! Then, when the time is right, they snatch their prey up into the trees, and claw, squeeze, and sedate right there! Oh, also with mating, sometimes they don't care who their mate is! Sometimes they just pick up whatever they can to get out of heat if another one of their species isn't around."

Tall trees with big vines. That's all you could focus on as Laios rambled on about this plokami that you might see because this environment was certainly the type for it. Maybe the monster-obsessed blonde was right for being cautious, although, he doesn't look like he's being cautious now as his glowing face and shimmering eyes glimmer with so much excitement. Instead, it looks like he's going to hop up and go mate with this plokami himself.

"Yeah, their tentacles get all slick and lubricated whenever they're in heat, and—"

You gasp, interrupting Laios as you watch in horror as a big glob of something lands on Laios' shoulder. You quickly stand up and point at the oozing, clear liquid that has landed on his armor. You feel yourself trembling as your worst fear has possibly come true.

Gods. You're going to be eaten alive.

"L-Laios... y-your s-shoulder..." Plop. Another glob right onto his head. "...Y-Your h-head..."

Slowly, Laios puts down his mandrake and back into his backpack and stands up. The two of you slowly back away from the tree, and Laios wipes the glob off of his face so he has a clearer picture of where your eyesight has landed.

You stand there, stunned as your eyes remain on the tree before you, your body trembles as you look up at the large monster hanging in the tree with its long, tendrils of tentacles hanging like vines, its green skin blends into its surroundings perfectly. If it didn't have the large, squid-like head, you wouldn't have been able to point it out—you're sure of it.

You watch, frozen in a standstill as the monster heaves, its breath blows the leaves in the tree, shaking them as they fall to the ground, and the tree itself is coated in a clear liquid that seeps from the tentacles of the monster.

"I-Is... t-that..." You stutter out, but Laios finishes it for you.

"Yep... the plokami, and..." He pauses. "... it's in heat."

Laios almost sounds excited when he says that last part, which rips you out of your fear-ridden state. You whip your head towards him and you see his eyes, glimmering with curiosity once more like he always does when he sees a monster.

"Laios you freak!"

"I've always wanted to know... heh. Can you blame me?" He asks, but, with the way he's asking, it's more like he's just making a proud statement that he knows he's going to finally get what he's dreamed of for years.

He's going to fuck a monster.

He takes a step forward, almost as if he's offering himself to it, and he opens his arms, welcoming the plokami.

"Laios you're insane! What if it eats you after it—" Your worries are nothing but moot to him as he takes another large step forward the tree.

"Plokami!" He shouts to the tree where the monster lays, and another glob of that lubricant falls onto Laios' shoulder.

There's a big whoosh that sweeps through the air before you can realize what's happening. A gust of wind almost knocks you over which stirs you out of your fearful state, making it dawn on you that Laios has been swept up into the monster's grasp.

You groan, hating that your monster-obsessed friend is too curious for his own good, so, despite him wanting to fuck a monster, you quickly grab a dagger from its sheath. You grip it tightly and you throw it at the monster as it hits, and sinks down into one of its tentacles.

Unfortunately for you, however, this seems to make the monster more mad as it lets out a low, rumbling sound, and, before you know it, you're immediately hit with a large tentacle that almost knocks the breath out of you as it grabs you by your ribs and sweeps you up into the air, squeezing you tightly as its wet, sticky suction cups glide over your skin, making wet popping sounds.

"Laiooooos!" You curse your friend's name as you let out a groan, completely grossed out of your mind as the monster's wet slick drips all over you. You whip your head toward him and narrow your eyes as you see him completely relaxed as the monster rubs its tentacles all over Laios' body, slowly shrugging off his armor, making it hit the ground with a metallic thunk.

"Why did you have to fuck the monster?!"

"Because I'm curious!" He retorts, which, was the response you unfortunately expected from him.

"Well, I wasn't! I was perfectly fine, on the ground, and not slimy!" You shout back, and you wince when you feel a slimy tentacle glide around your throat. You swallow thickly.

Laios huffs and he rolls his eyes. "One, you were the one who angered it so it picked you up, and two, it's not slime! It's arousal fluid!"

You groan and you try to move your limbs around in an attempt to free yourself, but the hold of the plokami's tentacles is too strong, and to only make matters worse, they tighten around you as you struggle.

"Stop struggling! You'll only make matters worse. It'll squeeze you to death if you struggle. Just..." Laios sighs, "Let it happen."

You stare at him with your mouth agape as you watch him, clearly enjoying this as he relaxes in the monster's arms.

"You're crazy, Laios! I—" You struggle again, but this time the monster squeezes you again, tighter than last time, so you have no other choice than to relax. However, something is off when it squeezes you again. You smell something—something sweet. You sniff it, and you turn to Laios again, who's a blushing mess under the touch of the tentacles.

"Laios, do you smell that?" You ask, and you sniff it again.

He nods, and, as you watch him, a tentacle slips under Laios' shirt and slips it off, exposing his chest. Your face heats up at the sight, and he hangs his head back with a groan as one of the tentacles moves to rub his cock, which, you could see was hard through his tan pants.

"Y-Yeah... it's the sedative I was telling you about..." He mumbles, clearly already drunk under the spell of the sweet sedative. "This is why I was sayin' to just let it happen..."

Not like I have a choice, you think to yourself as you remember Laios saying that the beast used the sedative to coerce its mates.

The sedative lingers in your nose, the scent sickeningly sweet as it slowly starts to make you dizzy, almost as if you're drunk. You let your head fall back, and the tentacles slowly relax around you as they feel you start to relax as the sedative works its magic on you.

Your head feels so light, and you feel so weightless under the effects of the sedative. You sigh, accepting more and more of the tentacles as they glide around your body, and a few more join in to help slide off your clothes. You watch as the thick, slimy tentacles drag themselves up and down your body, leaving trails of wet, lubricant. It slowly slides itself up under your shirt and it pushes up against the fabric so it slowly slides it off, leaving your breasts exposed.

Normally you'd want to cover up with your arms in a situation like this, but, your head feels so light, and dizzy that you'd just rather relax in this. You hum contently, and a lazy smile forms on your face as you feel the tentacle glide down your pants, brushing over your pussy through the fabric which makes it throb with a silent need.

"Mmm... this is good, Laios..." You say softly, drunk on the sedative.

"I know... told you," he sighs in a heavy breath, and you tilt your head back to look at him.

He's laying with his legs spread open as the monster holds them open, and his pants have been taken off, leaving his cock pressed against his stomach.

You swallow thickly as you realize you've never seen Laois like this, all laid out and naked before you. You'd honestly never thought you would, but now... you let out a shaky breath.

"Laios..." You watch as the plokami moves one of its long tentacles up and down his body, rubbing over his nipples and tracing over his thighs with another tentacle, slowing inching toward his cock.

Laois shifts his drunken gaze to you and his eyes widen when he sees your top off, and the tentacle rubbing you between your thighs. His cock twitches at the sight.

"Gods, you look so good like that," he says with a sigh, and you feel your body heat up from the praise.

"Y-Yeah? Was about to say the same thing to you..." you reply in a soft voice, and Laios blushes again.

"Y'so sweet... always have been," he mutters through a drunken daze, and he groans as the tentacle finally wraps around his cock, slowly pumping it, coating it in nothing but the tentacle's slick.

You feel yourself throb with need as you watch the monster jerk off Laios, finding the image hot as you watch the blonde tilt his head back, his eyes fluttering to a close and his jaw drops open. He looks so good like that, you think to yourself and you let out a whine, wanting nothing more than to go over there yourself and sit yourself down on his cock, but the plokami has you in a tight grasp.

"L-Laios... I want you..."

You don't know where the admission came from, but, its the truth.

Laios' eyes open slowly when you admit that, and he groans as the monster seems to pick up the pace on his cock. You whine, wishing it was you once again so you buck your hips up, grinding against the monster pathetically as you feel the ridges of the tentacles grind against your cunt over your pants.

You look away from Laios at the moment to focus on the pleasure that the tentacle is giving you, and finally it slips inside your pants to take them off.

The wet fabric slips down your legs and off with a few swipes of a tentacle before returning to glide up and down your cunt, making sure to glide perfectly over your clit.

You let out a whine, and at that, Laios curses under his breath.

"Fuck, I want you too..." He replies to you, and he bucks his hips up into the tentacle, chasing after what he wants with heavy breaths.

You tilt your head back to get a good look at him, and, as you see his chest heaving, his skin red from the heat, and his throbbing, hard cock pulsing under the weight of the tentacle—it's almost enough to make you cum yourself.

You grind yourself against the tentacle, the wet, big, ridges from the suction cups make you moan as it glides against your sensitive clit, and, to add to the pleasure, a tentacle slowly makes its way toward your breasts, where it snakes its way around your nipples, slowly stimulating them which sends a shock of pleasure down to your pussy.

"Nnngh!" You look up at Laios as you grind against the tentacle with begging eyes as you wish it was him who was making you feel this good, and not some monster.

You're about to say something else to Laios when suddenly you feel a tentacle thrust into your poor, sopping-wet pussy, earning Laios a loud moan as it begins to thrust in and out of you.

Your head falls back, and you let out loud moans as you feel the tentacle move in and out at a harsh pace, and the thickness of it stretches you out so deliciously. You feel nothing but bliss as your head feels full of stars, and gliding into what feels like another plane of existence as you get fucked out on this tentacle.

Fire rises along your skin as you're enveloped into that feels like heaven as the beast pushes in and out of you, releasing moans out of you that you never thought you'd felt before. All of this pleasure slowly builds up, and you feel that fire kindle in your stomach as your breaths start to pick up.

You moan Laios' name. "Fuck... Laios... need to cum..."

"Yeah?" Laios groans and he thrusts up into the hold of the tentacle, feeling like he's on his last strand, too. "Me too... need to cum... wanna cum together?" He says under a rough grunt as his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

You nod eagerly, barely able to respond yourself as your head feels so light and dizzy from needing to cum.

"Y-Yeah..."

"A-Ah... cum. Cum for me." He lets out a low groan as he finally cums, his white seed spurts all over the tentacle around him and onto his stomach as he lets out a loud moan.

Just as he cums, you whine, squeezing around the tentacle as you finish, making your legs shake as you feel that fire roar inside your body, and, soon after, you feel a rush of warm liquid flush into you.

You look down, hardly unable to pick up your head as you see a huge load of milky white cum flow from the tentacle and into you, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the sight. You swallow thickly as you watch it all drip out of you.

There's nothing but a moment of heavy breathing exchanged from the two of you as you slowly regain your consciousness as the sedative has worn off now.

The plokami slowly sets you and Laios down onto the grass before it sinks back away into the tree, and down into the water in the pond.

Laios groans and sits up, rubbing his head as he looks over at you, who's panting and still laying against the grass, all fucked out.

He sees the cum from the tentacle monster, and slowly, he reaches over, before he can do anything, you quickly grab his wrist.

"Don't you dare, Laios."

"What?! I just wanna know what it tastes like."

[waitimcomingtoo]

The Way That You Were

Pairing: fratboy!Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: you and Peter reunite at a college party and discover he is no longer the sweet nerd you knew in high school

Masterlist

“I’m gonna pee.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Your friend asked you over the sound of the music of the party.

“I’ll be fine. But hold my drink, please.” You kindly requested and handed her your red solo cup.

“Have fun.” She called after you as you left for the bathroom. You adjusted your dress and leaned against the wall as you waited on the bathroom line. You looked around the frat house you were in and decided the walls were not actually something you wanted to lean against.

“God damn. If your ass blew me away I cannot wait to see your face.” A voice suddenly came from behind you. You scrunched your face in disgust and turned around to see who the voice belonged to. Your eyes met a boy in a backwards hat with curls spilling out of it on either side. But what made you lose your breath was the fact that you recognized the eyes staring back at you. The smug grin on the boys face instantly dropped when he recognized you as well.

“Peter? Peter Parker?” You asked and felt your heart ache just a little. You both slowly processed what he had just said and he turned a bright red.

“Y/n?” He asked in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“My friend invited me. What were you saying about my face?” You asked and folded your arms.

“Nothing. Something stupid.” He said quickly before breaking into a smile. He suddenly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. You blinked in surprise and hesitantly patted his back.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He said into your ear.

“Neither can I.” You laughed dryly as you pulled out of the hug. You stepped back and took a moment to take him in. His arms were much bigger than you remembered from back in high school and you had a full view of them in his white cut off tank top. Everything about his outfit was different from his typical style, down to the shoes he was wearing. You would’ve thought he was wearing a costume if he didn’t look so natural.

“God, look at you.” He sighed as he looked you up and down. A dopey smile remained on his face and he shook his head as if he trying to shake a thought out of his mind.

“Me? Look at you. You look so different. What are you doing at a party like this?” You wondered.

“Oh, this is my frat house. We throw parties like this every weekend.” He replied and you laughed. He didn’t laugh with you and you realized he wasn’t joking.

“You live here?“ You asked as your eyes darted to the poster of a girl in a bikini riding a beer can barely covering a hole in the wall.

“That’s not mine.” Peter said quickly.

“The hole or the poster?”

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked to change the subject.

“I’m kinda waiting for something.” You laughed awkwardly and nodded towards the bathroom door.

“After? I’ll wait.” He offered. He seemed very eager to talk to you and you couldn’t deny that you had been desperate to talk to him ever since you graduated high school.

“Okay.” You agreed. “Sure.”

“Wait, don’t use that bathroom. It’s probably disgusting. It’s actually most definitely disgusting. I have a bathroom in my room. It’s much cleaner. Come on.” He said and nodded towards the stairs.

“Oh. Okay.” You looked around at who was watching before following him up the stairs. You stayed close behind him until the two of you reached his bedroom. You would never normally follow a guy up to his bedroom at a party without telling anyone where you were going but you grew up with Peter so you trusted him. You entered his bedroom and you discreetly took a look around. You’d been to his apartment in high school and were saddened to see his posters of the periodic table and Star Wars were replaced with patched up holes in the wall and a poster of Goodfellas next to a tapestry that said “Saturdays are for boys” over an American flag.

“I’ll guard the door.” Peter told you as he showed you where the bathroom was.

“Thank you.” You shot him a smile before going inside. Peter’s bathroom was much more akin to the Peter you once knew. You smiled at the miscellaneous artifacts on his bathroom counter and did what you came to do before leaving.

“Hey.” You smiled awkwardly at him when you left the bathroom.

“Hey.” He smiled back. “I kinda can’t believe you just used my bathroom.”

“I kinda can’t believe you have pink hand towels and Darth Vader shampoo.”

“Hey, hey, hey. That’s not Darth Vader. It’s the Mandelorian.” He corrected. “And they’re only pink because I washed them with my Chiefs jersey.”

“You own a jersey?” You raised at eyebrow at him.

“I do now that Taylor Swift said it’s okay to watch football.”

“You still listen to Taylor?” You smiled in surprise.

“Obviously. I was listening to Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus while I pregamed for this party.”

“Jesus.” You chuckled. “Who hurt you?”

“I just like the line about wondering.” He laughed as well but didn’t meet your eyes.

“So do I.” You admitted and he finally looked at you. You shared a moment of lingering eye contact accompanied by a comfortable silence. He looked different, and not just because of his outfit. He looked older. His baby face had hardened and he looked more like a man now and not the boy you once knew. But as different as he was, his eyes were the same. So was his laugh. And despite the years that had gone by without you seeing each other, you slipped right back into your friendship.

“Can I make you that drink now?” Peter asked after a beat.

“Okay.” You smiled and he slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Stay close to me. The people that come to these parties haven’t had all their vaccines.” He whispered in your ear as he led you back downstairs.

“I will.” You laughed and felt relieved his sense of humor was still in tact. A few people from Peter’s school turned to look at the two of you as you made your way to the kitchen but Peter didn’t seem to notice.

“This is the kitchen. All the healthy cereals are mine.” Peter said proudly and pointed to a box of Mini Wheats on top of the refrigerator.

“By healthy do you mean the frosted strawberry Mini Wheats?”

“Those really hit after a nightmare.” He insisted. “Plus, strawberry is a fruit and wheat is good for you. God, what do they teach girls in school?”

“Not the important stuff, apparently.” You laughed and he smiled as he caught your eyes. He pulled out a fresh red solo cup and got some ice.

“Do you still like Shirley temples?” He asked you.

“Yeah. You remember that?”

“Of course I do. I remember making makeshift ones out of sprite and strawberry syrup at Ned’s Halloween party Junior year because you told me they were your favorite.”

“Those were not bad.” You recalled. “Or maybe they just tasted better because I was 17 and drunk for the first time.”

“That was my first time drinking too. White Claw does not taste as good on the way out as it does the way in.” Peter grimaced and grabbed a beer from the ice bucket on the counter. You watched him crack it open with ease and felt an ache of nostalgia for those few nights of getting drunk as teenagers off alcohol from 7/11 that someone’s older brother bought.

“But I see you’ve outgrown White Claw.”

“Yeah. My friends and I pretty much only drink beer.” Peter nodded and took a swig of it.

“Don’t you worry about getting a…” You trailed off when Peter lifted his shirt to wipe his mouth with, giving you a full view of his abdomen. Peter’s sweaters and nerdy t shirts never let on that he was carved by the gods underneath his clothing.

“Beer gut.” You barely got the words out and blinked a few times to get back into reality.

“I seriously can’t believe you’re here. I always wondered what happened to you after high school.” Peter admitted as he made your drink for you.

“I know. I dropped my phone on the subway tracks a few years back and got a new number. But I always wondered about you too.” You told him.

“You did?” He smiled in relief.

“Of course I did. I tried to find you on social media but I couldn’t find anything.

“Yeah. I never really got the hang of it. I did try to find you in a phone book once. But the librarian called me a nerd and told me to go back to the 90s.” Peter replied, making you laugh.

“Well that wasn’t very nice of them.” You said.

“No it was not. So I am very pleased that I find you in my house tonight. That’s why I made you the most delicious Shirley Temple in the world.” Peter said and proudly held out the red solo cup.

“Oh, my. Thank you.” You giggled and accepted the cup from him. You took a sip and felt your eyes water.

“Jesus Christ. Is there any Sprite in here or just vodka?” You said through a cough.

“Sorry. That was out of habit. My boys and I are heavy pourers.” Peter sound genuinely apologized and added more Sprite to your cup to make it less strong.

“It’s all right.” You shrugged. “So I have to ask you, how come you’re no longer at MIT?”

Peter looked a little frightened when you mentioned MIT and quickly looked over his shoulder. He stepped closer to you and looked around again.

“I wasn’t happy there so I transferred last semester.” He said in a quiet voice.

“Why are we whispering?” You whispered back through a light laugh.

“People here don’t really know that I was like that.” He admitted and looked a little disappointed to even be saying it.

“Like what? Smart?” You asked at full volume. He looked around again and waved his hand in dismissal.

“I’m still smart. I just don’t let my boys know that.” He told you, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Your boys?” You laughed dryly.

“You know. My frat brothers.” He explained and gestured to the party.

“Right, right. I think I met a few tonight when I walked in on their farting contest and they asked me to join. Do you still talk to Ned?”

“Oh, no.” Peter shook his head. “We kept in touch for a while after high school but we kinda fell off somewhere after I transferred here.”

“Wow, really? You guys were so close. I thought you’d be friends forever.”

“Yeah. I guess I did too.” Peter realized and stared down the barrel of his beer bottle.

“Are you still studying biochemistry?” You asked him. “It was biochemistry, right?”

“It was. But now I’m undeclared. I’m not really sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Really? But you’re so smart. You were the smartest guy I ever met. You still are.”

“I’m not that smart.” He laughed and shyly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes you are.” You insisted. “You always knew the answer to every question before I even processed what was being asked.”

“You’re smart too. In an original way that I still think about.” He replied, catching you by surprise. You took a sip to your cup for a little bravery and looked into his eyes.

“You still think about me?” You asked him with a coy smile.

“I do. All the time.” He answered without breaking eye contact. You sucked in a sharp breath and he smirked before moving same hair off your forehead. His hand stayed on your face and you felt your heart rate start to pick up. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to kiss him, it was that you had always wanted to kiss him. Now that he was standing in front of you and it might actually happen, you felt too nervous.

“Where are your glasses?” You blurted and ruined the moment. Before Peter could respond, me of his frat brothers walked in and clapped Peter’s on the back.

“Glasses? What’s this bird talking about, Parker?” He asked as he slung an arm around Peter and roughed him up a little.

“Shut up, Flash. She’s not a bird. She’s my friend from high school.” Peter defended you angrily and pushed the boy off.

“Oh shit. This isn’t the chick you were in love with, is it?” Flash gasped and looked at you.

“Who were you in love with?” You immediately asked Peter and felt a little jealous bubble up inside you.

“No, dumb ass. That was a different girl. This is Y/n. Don’t call her a chick either. Thats just another kind of bird.” Peter grumbled. Flash gave you an unapologetic once over before smirking.

“Nice to meet you, sweetie. I’m Flash. I hope you’re enjoying the party. But I do have to ask that you keep it down later because my room is right next to his and I have an 8 am class tomorrow.”

“Don’t, man.” Peter warned.

“Keep what down?” You wondered.

“Well, you know. Parker has girls in there so often I had to start charging them rent. Especially because they drink all the orange juice in the morning. And they tend to keep me up all night due to all the bed squeaking, so I ask that you’re considerate of the class I have tomorrow.” Flash said to you. You gulped and looked to Peter for an explanation, but Peter was busy glaring at Flash.

“Shut the fuck up, okay? Like you even go to class.” Peter scoffed. “Get out of here. Go drink some water. And take a bath. You stink.”

“All right. Just go easy on her, okay Parker? She seems like a nice girl. She deserves to be able to walk out of here in the morning.” Flash clapped him on the back again and you let out a shocked laugh.

“Fuck off. Now.” Peter demanded. Flash held up his hands and shot you a wink before walking away. You looked to Peter for an explanation for what just occurred. You have never heard him swear before and definitely never heard him get angry with someone like that. You also couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to what Flash had said about all the girls Peter slept with. You knew it shouldn’t bother you, but the Peter you knew had never even had his first kiss. Something about the guy you’d always pined after going from never being kissed to a guy with a long line of girls leaving his bedroom made your tummy hurt.

“I’m sorry about him. He’s such a dick sometimes.” Peter apologized to you.

“Yeah. I picked up on that.” You laughed nervously.

“Why’d don’t we get out of here? It’s too loud.” Peter’s said and gestured to the rest of the part. You sucked in a sharp breath and thought back to what Flash had just said. As much as you’d wondered about Peter, you were not ready to “get out of here” with him.

“I should probably get back to my friend.” You answered. Peter smiled politely and nodded in understanding but felt disappointed that your time together was ending.

“I’ll help you find her.” He offered and you agreed. You brought him to where you last saw her and found her making out with someone on the couch.

“Oh!” You said in surprise but your friend didn’t come up for sit.

“I think she’s okay for now.” Peter joked.

“I guess she is.” You agreed.

“Do you want to take a walk?” He asked and you felt relieved that he wasn’t asking to go back upstairs.

“Sure. I could use some air.” You agreed and followed him outside. The two of you walked down the sidewalk together and Peter stayed on the side facing the street to keep you from stumbling into it on accident. It felt easy to talk to him despite the years of being apart from each other and the longer you talked, the more you realized he hadn’t changed all that much. Sure, he swore a lot more now and made some dumb jokes, but his character was the same.

“Are you cold?” He asked you at one point.

“No. I’m okay. The fresh air feels good.”

“Good. Because I don’t have a jacket to offer you. But I would give you my jacket if I had one.”

“I appreciate that.” You laughed and looked over at him.

“So how long are you visiting your friend for?” He asked you.

“I go back to school on Tuesday.”

“So soon?” He stopped walking and frowned.

“Yeah. I’m just here for the long weekend.”

“Oh, shit, really? I was hoping we’d have more time together. I’d really love to see you again. Maybe we can get dinner tomorrow or something.”

“I don’t know.” You laughed nervously and folded your arms out of self consciousness.

“Why not?” He asked, sounding a little hurt.

“It was really good to see you again tonight. But I don’t think we have anything in common anymore, Pete.” You admitted without looking at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Look at us. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. I don’t know if we’d get along anymore. Not like we did in high school, anyway.”

“Just because it’s been a long time doesn’t mean we won’t get along. We have history together. I’m still the guy you competed with in the decathlon.” He insisted. You looked up at him and stared at him under the light of the streetlight. He sounded like the guy you once knew, but he looked and acted so different now.

“Are you?” You asked quietly. Peter blinked a few times and smiled sadly.

“You don’t think so?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look great and you seem happy with where you are now.”

“But?” He asked, sensing there was more. You smiled sympathetically because there was in fact more and it wasn’t exactly nice.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little surprised to see you tonight. I always wondered about you and assumed you were halfway to becoming a scientist or Nobel prize winner by now. I never expected all this.”

“All what?” He asked, sounding a little annoyed now.

“You know. Frat boy. Undeclared. Chugging beer. Long line of girls coming out of your room…” You trailed off and looked down at the ground again.

“Flash was joking about that. The only time I’ve had a girl in my room was when we had to get a maid after the New Year’s party because there was an unidentified goo on the floors. I’m still me.” He insisted and stepped closer to you. You still didn’t look up at him because you didn’t want to say what you were about to say.

“You commented on my ass.” You said quietly. You didn’t see it, but Peter’s face dropped. He had felt annoyed that you were judging him until he remembered his opening line to you tonight was about your body. He felt guilty for reducing a girl he knew so well to an object for him to comment on.

“I’m sorry about that. I really am.” He apologized. “I’m way drunk right now and not using my head.

“The guy I knew in high school was not the kind of guy who says things like that to girls.” You said and finally looked into his eyes. To your surprise, he looked genuinely apologetic.

“I know. I’m not like those guys. I swear, I never normally say things like that. I’m drunk and a fucking idiot. I’ve made a total ass of myself all night. What can I do?”

“Peter, it’s fine. I’m not here to judge you. And you don’t owe me anything. I’m being stupid anyway. I’m not the same person I was in high school so I don’t know why I expected you to be. Thats not fair to you. I guess I’m just little drunk and upset I never got to see my Peter again.”

“Your Peter?” Peter asked with a sad smile.

“Come on, Peter. I was crazy about you back then. The whole school knew. By senior year, everyone had figured it out but you. And I always regretted not telling you. So I’d fantasize about all the cool things you were doing in college. This just isn’t what thought it would be like when we found each other again.”

“For me either.” He admitted as he stared at you starry eyed.

“No?”

“I liked you too. You were the girl Flash was talking about. I was in love with you in high school.” He confessed. You knew you should be happy to hear that but all you could think of was the wasted potential of a relationship that never got to happen.

“You never told me.” You said softly.

“How could I?“ He laughed. “You were so beautiful I could barely get an intelligent word out when you were around. You still are. And I still can’t.”

“I wish I knew. Now I’m always gonna wonder what would have happened if I had just told you how I felt.” You smiled sadly.

“So will I.” He said as his eyes filled with sadness. You stared at each other for a moment with the quiet understanding that at one point you wanted the same thing at the same time.

“Maybe we don’t have to wonder.” Peter said after a beat.

“What do you mean?” You asked him. Peter stepped closer suddenly and tilted your chin up with his pinky.

“Please.” He pleaded. “Just give me one night. I’ll take you to dinner and prove I’m still me.”

“And suppose you do.” You shrugged. “I’m only here for the weekend. What does it matter anyway?”

“It matters to me. Because I’ve always wanted you. Even if I just get one night.”

“Peter, I’m not trying to be one of your girls.” You shook your head and stepped away from him.

“I told you. There are no girls. You are the only girl who has ever taken my breath away. I never stopped thinking about you after high school. Just give me one chance.” He asked and pulled you back into his arms. You stared into his eyes for a moment and found yourself unable to say no.

“Please.” He whispered and sounded irresistibly desperate. You could see his gaze dropping to your lips and felt your heartbeat pick up again. But this time, you didn’t feel nervous.

“I shouldn’t.” You said quietly.

“But don’t you want to stop wondering and know for certain?” He asked, and you nodded. Your eyes fluttered shut and just as you were expecting his lips to meet yours, he cupped your face and kissed your cheek.

“I’m not going to kiss you tonight. Because I’m drunk. And you’re not.” He said when you looked at him in confusion. You were disappointed to not be kissed but smiled knowing he made the responsible decision.

“Oh. Yeah. Good call.” You cleared your throat and stepped out of his embrace.

“But I will be on my best behavior tomorrow for our date.” He assured you.

“I never actually agreed to a date.” You smiled coyly. Peter grinned and pulled you back into his arms and let his hands rest on your hips.

“You agreed when you closed your eyes to kiss me.” He said with his face close to yours. You gulped again but never broke eye contact with him.

“You’re kinda an asshole now.” You teased him.

“Yeah, but in a good way.” He shrugged, making you laugh.

“We’ll see.” You said pointedly. Peter pulled put his phone and handed it to you.

“We will see.” He insisted. “Here. Put your new number in. And don’t drop it on the subway this time.��

“I won’t.” You playfully rolled your eyes and typed your number into his phone. When you handed it to him, your hands touched as he took it back.

“You better not.” He said and slipped his fingers into yours as he pocketed his phone. You stared into his big brown eyes and felt like you were right back in high school.

“You could kiss me, if you wanted to. I had a drink too.” You said in a soft voice.

“I do want to. But I’ll save it for when my lips don’t taste like cheap beer.” He said with a smirk. He leaned in and kissed your cheek one more time before walking you back to the house. You stepped inside the frat house and just as your friend was heading to the door.

“Hey. The guy I was making out with tried to explain the stock market to me and laughed when I said I’m an economics major. I’m over this party. Are you ready to head out?” She asked you as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. We can go.” You replied and felt disappointed to leave Peter so soon.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned down and whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Goodnight.” You said as you turned around to see him.

“Goodnight.” He replied and cupped your chin one more time.

Ten minutes after Peter said he would pick you up, he still wasn’t there. You checked your phone for the hundredth time as saw the minutes adding up. You should have known it was all too good to be true and he wasn’t the exception he claimed to be. He joined a frat and they poisoned the once sweet boy you knew. Just as you were about to go inside, Peter sped down your block and rolled down the window.

“I’m late. I’m sorry.” Peter called out the open window. Since he didn’t even bother to get out of the car, you got off the front steps you were sitting on and bent down to look at him through the window.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” You said and didn’t try to hide your annoyance.

“I’m sorry.” He said and pouted. “God damn. You look hot.”

You opened your mouth to scold him for objectifying you once again but he wasn’t done yet.

“I’m so sorry I was late. I bet you spent a long time getting ready dry. And I’m sure you’ve been waiting for a long time. I remember you saying you get ready with time to spare and sit by the door until the person picking you up gets there so they don’t have to wait outside for long. And I’m an asshole and came late.”

You had planned to walk away and go back inside to punish him for being late, but you just couldn’t. Him remembering that little detail about you combined with the way he looked in his jersey made you want to stay.

“Well maybe I’ve changed.” You said pointedly as you climbed into his car.

“You have. High school you didn’t wear rings or have sexy red nails. But I figured some things would stay the same. Hello.” He greeted and leaned in to kiss your cheek. You felt your face burning and turned away so he wouldn’t see your smile.

“I thought some things would stay the same too. Yet I met you last night with a backwards cap on. The Peter I knew wouldn’t never be caught dead in a hat. Let alone one representing a sports team.” You teased him.

“It’s not actually a sports team. Look.” Peter took his eyes off the road to reach into his backseat and get his hat. He handed it to you and your eyes widened.

“Oh my God.” You said as you turned over your old black hat you got at the Gap freshman year.

“You let me borrow that at the senior skip day at the beach because I forgot sunblock.” Peter recalled. “And when I tried to give it back to you, you said I could keep it since it looked better on me.”

“It did.” You smiled fondly at the memory.

“I wear it all the time now because I don’t know how to do my curly hair now that it’s longer.”

“I like it longer.” You told him. “But I also liked your short gelled look. With your cute little button downs and sweaters.”

“Yeah. I outgrew those.” He chuckled. “I started working out more and they looked silly on me once I got bigger. Then Flash showed me how to cut my shirts to show off my arms.”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine those arms in a little sweater.” You agreed.

“What about my arms?” He looked over at you with a smirk.

“Nothing.” You said coyly. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“It’s a surprise. But I’ll give you a hint. You wrote about it in your letter to your college self.”

“What?” You laughed in surprise. “Do you have a photographic memory of something? I don’t remember anything I wrote in that.”

“I told you. I was in love with you.” He said and looked over at you. You locked eyes and smiled until a car hocked at him for drifting into their lane.

“How come you’re so comfortable saying it now yet I had no idea back in high school?” You wondered. Then Peter got a text and pulled out his phone to read it. You eyed him but didn’t say anything as he replied to the text while driving. You’d never been in a car with him behind the wheel before and it was starting to make you a little nervous.

“I don’t know. You’re different too.” He answered finally. “I can tell from looking at you. So I guess I don’t feel like I’m telling the girl I was in love with how I feel because I don’t really know you anymore. It makes it less scary.”

“I didn’t think about it like that. You’re right. I guess we don’t know each other anymore.” You said with a sad smile.

“I want to, though. Because you seem like a cooler version of the girl I liked in high school. Who was already cool.” He said and looked over at you again. You smiled at his compliment and stopped worrying about hai driving for a moment.

“I have so many questions for you.” You to him.

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you leave MIT?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t what I thought it would be. I realized I was a big fish in a small pond back in high school. Everyone seemed so much smarter and more experienced than I was. I felt so alone all the time. So I drove home one night and never looked back.”

“Yeah. I get that. I was always told I was a smart kid growing up and then I just felt so burnt out in college. At least you know you got into MIT and gave it your all.

“Thank you for saying that. I like the way you see things. I’ve been missing your perspective in my life.” He told you and you felt your face heat up again.

“How’d you end up at your new school?” You said to distract him from how flustered he made you.

“They had offered me a full ride if I joined the academic decathlon team. Which I do in secret. Don’t tell my frat please.” He chuckled and looked at you to see if you’d keep his secret. You feigned a smile and internally missed the boy who was a proud captain of the decathlon team.

“How’d you end up in a frat anyway? That seems so opposite of your personality.”

“It kinda happened by accident. I was in a group project with Flash and he invited me to a party after I did his half of the work. And it wasn’t the worst once I had something to drink so I started going to more parties. And then I started drinking a lot. I made friends with a lot of frat guys that Flash knew I so ended up pledging.” He shrugged. You nodded your head but were less than impressed with his story. You and Peter had shared many conversations about not wanting to be at the parties you were never invited to anyway back in high school and now he was the one throwing them.

“I still can’t wrap my head around you being in a frat. I really never imagined you’d be into something like that.”

“How did you imagine me?” He asked with a coy smile.

“I imagined you’d be student teaching a biochemistry class and have a devoted fan base of nerdy students who hung on your every word like in Dead Poets Society. And you’d have circular glasses and wear ties and cardigans like Spencer Reid.

“Wow, Dead Poets Society. I totally forgot about that movie. I haven’t seen it in forever.”

“Really? I thought it was your favorite movie?”

“It used to be. I just watched this movie last week where Seth Rogan and one of the Franco brothers were smoking weed and then they witnessed this murder so they were worried the murder was gonna find them-“ Peter started laughing as he remembered the plot but stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing along with him. The plot was far from the science fiction films he used to talk extensively about during lunch in an effort to convince you to watch them. It wasn’t much, just another reminder of how different he was from when you knew him.

“It was stupid. Anyways.” He changed the subject. “What have you been up to lately? How’s school?”

“School is good.” You shrugged. “I don’t know how I’ll ever work a job once I graduate because now having one class at 12 pm drains me for the remainder of the day, but I enjoy it. I like the freedom.”

“Good, good. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I like the freedom too. I can eat macaroni at any hour and no one can tell me otherwise. And your friends are nice?”

“Yeah. I’ve found a good group of girls. It was really lonely at first like you said but I eventually found my people. It’s been a lot better now.” You answered as your eyes watching his thumbs type something on his phone. You looked at him in confusion but he was too busy switching back and forth between watching the road and texting to notice.

“I totally get that. I ate alone so many times that I started it get used to it. But it gets better when you find a few good people to spend time with.” He said after a minute. You nodded your head and tried not to be bothered by how distracted he was.

“Are your frat brothers good people?”

“I know you probably have a million and one presuppositions about frat guys but I promise we’re not as bad as you’ve been told. Lots of frats are crazy and have those worst kind of guys in it but were not like that. We have a no bullshit policy.” He informed you.

“Oh yeah? What kind of bullshit do you not tolerate?”

“All sorts of bullshit. We just kicked a guy out last week because he cheated on his girlfriend. And we banned the girl from our parties because she knew he had a girlfriend and slept with him anyway. We do not tolerate that kind of bullshit. Plus, Flash told me they once found out a guy was a bully in high school so they took turns farting on his pillow and then he got severe pink eye and had to drop out of school for the semester. Isn’t that hilarious?”

“That’s nice to hear. Except for the fart stuff. That’s really gross. But not tolerating bullshit is cool. I guess I assumed all frat guys were Brads and Chads who chugged beers and creeped on girls. And I assumed that because a frat guy at my school had sex with a pumpkin and put it on his Snapchat story.”

“Ew, what?” Peter laughed. “Who uses Snapchat still?”

“That’s the part you found gross? Damn, how many pumpkins are you having sex with?” You teased him.

“A gentleman never tells.” Peter said poshly, making you laugh. He got another text and pulled out his phone to read it.

“Peter-“ You began.

“I can’t believe you’re in my car. Do you know how many times I tried to awkwardly ask you out in high school? But I was so vague you never realized? And now you’re just in my car and you smell amazing and I barely had to do anything.” He cut you off and grinned at you as he put his phone down. Every time you got annoyed with his behavior, he pulled you back in some compliment.

“Thank you. It’s my perfume.” You smiled and held your wrist out. Peter caught it with ease and held your wrist to his nose.

“Oh, wow. I like that.” He complimented. “Usually I wake up and walk into a cloud of axe body spray in every area of the house. You’re a nice relief from that.”

“Thank you. You smell good too.” You chuckled.

“Thanks. I stole Flash’s expensive cologne.”

“For me?” You gasped and touched your heart.

“Hell yeah.” He scoffed. “I’ve been waiting on this date since I was 14.”

“I never said this was a date.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.

“I’m pretty sure you did.” He said and dragged the word “pretty” out.

“You would have been on time if it was.” You teased him, making him look at you with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, yes, I was late.” He admitted. “But I had good reason.”

“And what was that reason?”

“I was setting something up.” He said simply.

“Really?” You smiled. “What is it?”

“You’ll see.” He said coyly.

“Okay. Weirdo.” You chuckled. “So, where are we eating?”

“I know this great burger place a few blocks from here. You’re gonna love it.” He replied. You nodded and head and smiled until he pulled out his phone again to answer another text. His car swerved into the other lane and he barely noticed, making you shoot him a look.

“Who are you texting?” You finally asked him.

“Nobody. One second.” He answered as his eyes flipped back and forth between his phone and the road. He started to drift again and a car honked at him as it passed by to get away.

“Peter, you really need to keep your eyes on the road.” You said as another car shouted something at him out their window.

“What was that?” Peter asked and looked up from his phone. You looked at him incredulously and let out a short laugh.

“If you have someone else you’d like to be talking to right now, maybe you should go be with them.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Babe, chill. I don’t have anyone else. I want to be here with you.” He insisted.

“Don’t call me “babe”. Its condescending. And you’re putting both our lives in danger because you’re so busy texting. And if you want to be with me, why are you so distracted by your phone?”

“I just needed to respond to something. Sorry. I won’t do it anymore.” He grumbled and put his phone away. His lack of an apology and heavy attitude in his voice was the final straw for you.

“Just pull over.” You told him.

“What? No. We’re almost there. I won’t text anymore.” He promised.

“Peter, pull over.” You said sternly. “I do not want to be in this car anymore.”

“I’m trying to take you on a nice date and you’re gonna bail because I answered a few texts?”

“Pull the damn car over.” You raised your voice. Peter rolled his eyes and pulled over to the side of the street.

“Before you get out-“ He began. Just then, his phone rang with a girls name on his screen and his face dropped. You raised your eyebrows at him and he smiled sheepishly.

“Answer it.” You dared him. Peter gulped and looked between you and the phone before picking it up.

“I’m sorry. One second.” He said and answered the phone. You scoffed in disbelief and glared at him as he took the call.

“Hello? No, I’m not doing anything. I can talk. What’s going on?” He asked into the phone. You had seen enough and got out of the car and started walking down the street. Peter watched you get out and opened his car door to talk to you.

“Where are you going?” He called after you.

“Peter, I’m not gonna sit here while you text other girls. I’m leaving.” You answered and continued down the street. He quickly explained his situation over the phone and hung up before running after you.

“Wait, please don’t leave. I’ll put my phone away.” He promised but you didn’t stop walking.

“You can text whoever you want. I don’t care. You’re just not gonna do it and think you can still take me on a date.” You told him before storming off. You turned the corner and started heading towards a nearby park.

“Wait.” Peter called after you so you walked even faster. He eventually caught up and caught you gently by the arm.

“Damn, you’re fast for a girl in heels.” He said as he caught his breath. You pulled your arm away from him and went into the park to get away from him. He caught onto you again and this time, you had tears in your eyes.

“Where are you going?” He asked. “What about our date?

“This was a mistake.” You shook your head and looked down.

“What? No it wasn’t.” He said, sounding genuinely hurt.

“Yes it was. Look at us, Peter. We don’t have anything in common anymore. I really liked you back then but you’re not that guy anymore. That guy wouldn’t show up late, call me “hot” and “babe”, text and drive, forget his favorite movie, stop talking to his best friend-“

“Oh. I get it.” He cut you off. “You’re disappointed because I’m not the same person I was when I was 17.”

“Yeah. Maybe I am.” You snapped and folded your arms when you heard his attitude return.

“Yeah, well. You’re different too.” He insisted. “The girl I knew in high school was not this judgmental.”

“I am not judgmental.” You scoffed.

“Yes you are. You’ve been judging me since the moment you turned around at the party. Just admit it.”

“Maybe because you commented on my ass like you were one of the dickhead boys you used to make fun of I’m high school. God, what happened to you?”

“I said I was sorry about that.”

“But you still did it.” You laughed sadly. “And then showed up late. And then remembered things about me from high school. And then texted other girls. And then kept the hat I gave you. I don’t understand you, Peter. I can’t read you anymore. This is too confusing. And it’s all for nothing because I still go back home on Tuesday and we’re never going to see each other again.“

“It doesn’t have to be like that.” He said and put his hands on your shoulders. You were surprised by how desperate for you to stay he sounded since it contradicted his behavior thus far.

“I think it does, Peter. Goodbye.” You shook your head and walked away again.

“Wait. There’s snakes out there.” He called after you.

“No there’s not.” You called back. You kept walking through the park until you came across a picnic blanket surrounded by fake candles. Surrounding the blanket were printed out caricatures of celebrities strung up and tapped to trees.

“What is this?” You asked when you heard Peter come up behind you.

“Oh thank God. No one stole it.” He sighed in relief and walked over to the picnic blanket.

“Wait, you set this up?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah. Ellen’s Stardust Dinner turns out to be insanely difficult to get into so I made us one.”

“Ellen’s Stardust Dinner?”

“In your letter. I remembered you said it was your dream to eat there one day.” He said with a sheepish smile. You couldn’t help but smile as well and started to walk around to look at all the photos he had printed. Peter lingered behind you and kept a comfortable distance since you were upset with him.

“Is this Joey Graceffa?” You laughed and pointed to one of the pictures.

“I took some creative liberties with the celebrities I chose to showcase once I ran out of ones I knew you liked. Do you still like Dylan O’Brien?”

“Do bears still shit in the woods? The answer is yes. Sorry. That wasn’t funny.” You quickly corrected yourself and Peter snorted.

“It was a little funny.” He admitted. “Not really, though.”

“I see the entire cast of Modern Family made it.” You chuckled and touched one of the photos he had tapped up to a tree.

“Of course they did. It’s the best show ever.”

“You’re not wrong.” You looked over at him with a smile. Peter took that smile as a sign you were forgiving him and stepped closer to you. You could feel his presence behind you and turned around to face him.

“You set all this up for me?”

“I did. That’s why I was late.” He explained. “I started early but then I ran out of magenta ink so obviously I couldn’t print the rest of my photos despite them having no magenta parts.”

“What about all the texting?” You asked him.

“My aunt is getting a mammogram today. Her mom had breast cancer so she was really nervous. I was checking in with her. But don’t worry, she’s okay. She just called to tell me. And that doesn’t excuse me texting while driving which I normally never do but she was anxious in the waiting room and I didn’t want her to be alone with her thoughts.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” You said softly and immediately felt guilty for snapping at him.

“You would’ve told me to go be with her.” He shrugged. “And I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see you before you left.”

“Well that’s very noble of you but it sounds like she needed you more than I did today.”

“Don’t worry. She insisted I come here instead. I would have just made her more nervous with my anxious pacing.”

You looked around at everything Peter had set up for you and all the details he had put in. You’d misread everything and judged him off of things you knew little about. You looked at him with guilt in your eyes and smiled sadly.

“I don’t know what to say.” You admitted. “You went through a lot today for me and I just threw a fit and stormed off.”

“I can’t say I didn’t give you good reason. I should have told you these things sooner. I’m just not good at this sort of thing. I wanted so badly to impress you that I ended up making you think I didn’t care.”

“Can we just start over then? And enjoy this set up you made?” You asked him.

“I would like that.” Peter smiled and sat down on the blanket. You sat down beside him and leaned into his side. Peter wasted no time in wrapping both arms around you, making you both fall backwards onto the blanket. You both laughed and stayed in each others arms as you rolled over to look into his eyes.

“I’m sorry I judged you.” You said and fixed his hair.

“It’s okay. I know I’m not what you thought I’d be.”

“You’re not. But you’re still you. You still have your heart and your humor. And those were always my favorite parts of you anyway. I don’t know why I got so hung up on the other things. Who cares what movies you watch or what you do with your free time now? None of that stuff matters.”

“Do you still like me? Even though I’m different?” He asked as he stared into your eyes.

“Look at what you did for me today. You’re not different. You just wear different clothes. I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge you. It wasn’t fair. And I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Honestly, I miss who I was too. I miss Ned. And being around people who know what amino acids are. And I missed you. God, I missed you so much. In the years since high school, there have been so many times when I’ve come across something I wanted to show you or thought something I wanted to tell you. I missed hearing your laugh when I made a stupid joke or hearing your thoughts on the bad movies I’d beg you to watch. I never made a friend like you again. And after a while, I realized I never would.”

“I never found someone like you either. No one ever had me like you did. I’ve been dreaming about the day we met again since the day I last saw you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He joked.

“Please. How could I be disappointed in this?” You playfully rolled your eyes and traced your fingertips up and down his arm. Peter reached forward and placed his hand on your face to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

“When do you leave on Tuesday?” He asked in a quiet voice.

“Late. My train is at 5.”

“Maybe we can get breakfast then.” He suggested without looking at you as he laced his fingers through yours.

“I’d like that.” You smiled and started to lean in.

“I can cook it.” He added. “After we wake up in my room.”

“Don’t push it.” You chuckled and rubbed your nose against his as you got closer.

“I won’t.” He replied before closing the gap between you and kissing you. The kiss that was years in the making was worth every minute of the wait. His right hand found his way to your hip and he squeezed it.

“Maybe you can push it just a little bit.” You said against his lips. Peter took that as his chance to pull you by the waist on top of him and deepen the kiss.

“That’s how I know you’ve changed. Nice boys don’t kiss like that.” You said when you pulled away to catch your breath.

“Yes they fucking do.” Peter said against your lisp before pulling you back into a heated kiss. You weren’t sure how much time passed as you kissed him but you only stopped when you Peters stomach let out a loud growl. You pulled away and rolled onto your back as you both laughed.

“Sorry about that. We never actually got any food.” He realized.

“Oh yeah. Maybe we should go do that.” You said and rolled over to face him.

“Yeah. We probably should.”

Despite the agreement to get up and go get some food, neither of you moved. You just laid on the blanket and stared into each others eyes with a comfortable silence in the air.

“In a minute?” You suggested after a minute and Peter smiled before leaning in to kiss you again.

“In a minute.”

PSA: DON’T TEXT AND DRIVE. it’s never worth it. It takes one second to get in an accident. Any text can wait. Your life is more important

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[sweet-as-an-angel]

Hiiii, I loveeeee ur work ❤️

I was thinking about a head cannon of how some of the mw2 characters (ghost, soap, König, etc) would react to their partner sending them a nude photo?👀👀👀

Sorry if you did this already but I’m pretty sure you haven’t tho cuz I definitely would have read it already 😭

MW2 Reaction to Receiving a Special™ Photo from Their S/O

Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Non-Specific/Explicit Implications of Smut, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You', Singular Mention of Graves Throwing Himself off a Cliff, Dominant! MW2, Submissive! MW2, Dominant! Reader, Submissive! Reader, Profanity, etc.

Ghost

He will literally stare bug-eyed at the picture you’ve sent him like 👁️O👁️

Since it’s a physical photograph, he keeps it on him like a chapstick, which is to say all the time.

He isn’t risking ANYONE besides himself seeing it.

And when he’s about to embark on a mission, he keeps it tucked into his vest right where his heart is so that it’s practically part of him.

He likes to think that, somehow, you can hear – feel – his heart beating, know that he’s still alive and fighting so that he can come home and see you.

And when he returns from a mission and goes to his quarters, he has some…alone time.

You know, to really study the picture.

Not that he doesn’t know every curve and edge of your body already.

But that doesn't stop him growling your name into the pillow as he rocks against it, a hole cut into the bottom of it – a poor imitation of you.

A makeshift lover.

If anyone ends up seeing that picture – if they stole it from him, if by some act of God (because that’s what it’ll take) it slipped out of his vest or pocket – they are in for a World of Pain™.

There won’t be a time they won’t flinch upon hearing Ghost’s name, or when they see his shadow like an omen on the wall as he commandeers the halls. Prowling.

He’d feel pretty guilty about someone else seeing you how he does, even if it was only for a fraction of a second.

So he’s definitely going to make it up to you when he gets back <3

König

His heart can’t take this kind of torment.

He’ll be looking down at his phone, the image of you burning into his skin like a holy artefact.

He definitely gets more jumpy around people when he has his phone on him.

Will literally clam up and shove it into the deepest recesses of his pocket if someone comes too close.

Even when your picture is safely stored behind a password-protected photo album.

He has to excuse himself from training or other commitments whenever his mind wanders back to you, and subsequently that image (which is basically all the time).

Sometimes he calls you while he’s sorting himself out.

He just needs to hear your voice – to feel closer to you.

It’s the only way he can finish.

“Engel,” he rasps, his breath stuttering, “I need you,”

And everyone just looks at him like he’s grown a third eye when he returns because, unbeknownst to him, König can’t keep quiet, and everyone who has never heard even a peep from him is suddenly aware of the carnality that lies beneath his skin, wired into his soul.

And at the centre is his love for you, boundless and overflowing so that the rest of his teammates know it, too.

Not that they mind all too much.

They all sit and think that you must be one beautiful person to evoke such a response from König.

Soap

Will tease you back.

Sends a mirror pic of him in a tight black shirt, saying something like ‘You’ll see the rest when I get home.’

Is absolutely ravenous when it comes to you.

No cap, goes absolutely ham in the shower when the image of you in nothing flashes in his mind.

His low moans are enough of a warning for the rest of the 141 to stay away for the next half an hour or so.

Aside from that, he’ll just look at the picture because he finds you beautiful.

Stares at it while he’s in bed. Laments on how much he misses you ☹️.

He’s counting down the days until he can see you again, and with each that passes, he can feel your silhouette becoming tangible in his hands, as if you were stepping out of the photo.

Sometimes, he dreams that you’re there with him, nestled between his arms.

Other times the dreams are a little more…graphic.

But Johnny can’t help it.

He just can’t contain himself when it comes to you.

Valeria

If you thought her violent tendencies could never extend to you, prepare to be amazed.

The second this woman sees what you’re trying to do – or, rather, what she thinks you’re trying to do – she is not happy.

You could have sent that image with the purest (within reason) of intentions; just letting Valeria know that you miss her, wishing her a good day – whatever.

What she sees is you trying to manipulate her by using your body as an instrument of destruction.

Dramatic, yes. But Valeria has never been one to take chances.

She’ll be deceptively calm over text: ‘Don’t tease me, Darling. You know what happens when you do.’

All day, all she can see is that image.

Whenever she turns a corner, you’re there; whenever she’s talking to someone, you’re peering at her over their shoulder; when she’s alone, you’re sat with her – on her – trying to take her attention away from her paperwork.

Redemption is a baseless concept when Valeria returns home that evening.

You will not know rest until she’s done with you.

Price

“Fuckin’ Hell, Love,” he’ll say, the darkness hanging on his voice tangible even through the voice note.

“What’ve you been up to while I’ve been away, hmm ?”

Will not rest until he knows he’s got you hot and bothered.

This entails him sending increasingly risqué images of himself; first, just one of him flexing, his arms thick and crawling with veins.

The next is of his shirt raised just below his chest, the dim light of the room keeping enough of him shrouded that his identity is unknown to all but you, his wide silhouette taking up most of the picture.

And, if you decide to be resilient against his attempts to make you feel as you have him, you’ll receive a series of menacing messages.

‘Don’t get too comfortable, Angel’, he’ll say.

‘You never know when I’ll come through that door–’

He grins as he sees you’ve read his message, hanging on his every word.

‘And ravage you.’

And you know he means it, too.

Meanwhile, he’s multitasking; keeping a clear, professional head and giving orders while resisting the primal urge to drop everything and find you.

And no amount of pleading or tears will spare you from his wrath when he returns.

Horangi

Regardless of how well the military life trained his self-discipline, nothing can dampen the sheer need Horangi feels whenever he receives a special picture from you.

I’m talking: he will literally sit in silence for ten minutes because he’s got a raging issue he needs to take care of but can’t risk anyone else seeing it.

Will thunder down the hall to the nearest bathroom when the meeting’s over and take out his frustrations there.

When he calls, you’d better pick up the first time.

If you don’t, you’ll have Hell to pay when gets home.

“Baby,” he breathes down the phone, the fog already making his mind frost over, his body burning up.

“What have you done to me–”

These brief encounters are the only thing keeping him sane while he’s away; they make him feel closer to you.

And, repaying you in kind, he returns one night, in the silence of the moon hours.

He finds you, pulls you to him, clutching on tight as you begin to wake.

And, between delirium and consciousness, his voice is all you can hear.

“Shouldn’t have tested me, Sweetheart,” he says, whispering as though partaking in a secret.

“Now I’m going to have to challenge you.” His arms are snakes as they constrict you.

“Fall asleep before I’m done with you, and I promise there will be no end to your suffering.”

Alejandro

Teasing a man as passionate as Alejandro is not going to end well for everyone involved.

Expect to receive a barrage of very choice texts back.

‘You have no idea what you’re doing to me’, he’ll say, followed by a photo of the tent in his trousers.

And a sinister: ‘But you will’.

If he’s away on business for even just a few days, he’ll go practically feral whenever he sees that picture of you.

To everyone else, he’ll be the leader Alejandro Vargas they all know him as – ruthless and righteous.

Yet, there’s something different in the way he walks as he excuses himself from the table, his destination unknown.

His gaze is narrowed and his teeth are grinding, rabid in disposition.

And when he gets home, no matter how long of a day it’s been, you’re in for a very long night.

He’ll appear behind you, a spectre, clamping a hand down on your shoulder.

“You shouldn’t test a soldier, Love,” he says, his grip tightening.

You don't turn around, an exhilarating fear keeping you frozen.

He leans down, his mouth just at your ear, his breath hot.

“Because you never know when he’ll snap.”

Rodolfo

This man is usually rather quiet and submissive when it comes to the more personal aspects of your life together.

But when you send him a picture that makes him question how long he can keep his composure for, you’re in trouble.

You’ll be receiving a phone call from a very exasperated Rodolfo, who, despite his best efforts, has succumbed to your charm.

Definitely a growler when he’s in a dominant mood.

More of a whimperer when he’s not.

At times like these, you get both.

“Darling,” he breathes, the back of his head pressed against the cold cubicle wall. “Look what you’ve done to me…”

His whining is more than enough to let you know the effect you’ve had on him.

And it’s what he says next that makes your blood run cold.

“I won’t let you get away with this.”

The husking baritone in his voice tells you he’s being truthful.

And if you try to clap back with something witty, or even an apology, Rodolfo just laughs.

“The time for mercy is long past, mi Amor,” he tells you.

“All you can do now is prepare for the Reckoning.”

Graves

This smug idiot.

Definitely smirks to himself when he gets that picture.

Has to resist the urge to show it off to everyone in the boardroom because he’s just that proud to have you as his partner.

Yes, he is hard. Yes, he’s still going to give this presentation in front of all the major shareholders.

Why ?

Because he’s Graves. Also, because he knows he has more money than everyone else in that room, and, consequently, more power.

Will shoot you back a text like: ‘Mighty fine work, Babydoll’, followed by, ‘You’re getting a promotion when I get home.’

Yes, he uses corporate jargon when discussing intimate matters.

He’s a businessman at heart, he can’t help it.

Definitely more playful than most of the others on this list.

The type to take his time with you and make you laugh while he does so.

But when he wants to be rough (and when you want him to be), he can be.

And he gets mean when he’s like that.

I’m talking hair-pulling, name-calling – basically just bullying you, but consensually.

Does his best to take care of you, though.

If he found out that he’d actually upset you, he’d literally jump off a cliff – he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

Expect many lavish gifts if this happens, though.

But don’t tell him that I told you that 👀.

Gaz

Will nearly drop his phone – it turns to butter in his hands.

He looks over his shoulder at least fifty times before he’ll allow himself to look at the photo again.

Poor boy’s face is turning red, his palms are sweating, he can’t think straight.

Paranoid 24/7 that everyone knows he has that picture of you.

But it doesn’t intimidate him enough for him to even try to keep quiet in the barracks when he has some alone time.

Similar situation to Soap; everyone knows to steer clear of whichever room Gaz was last spotted walking into for a while.

It would take him a few days for him to send a picture back.

More than likely, it’ll be of him in a scarcely lit bathroom in nothing but his boxers with a very prominent outline in them.

Followed by a text with something to the effect of: ‘Been thinking about you all night, Sweets’

And God forbid you send him another image of yourself. And definitely do not send a message saying ‘Aww, has my good boy been behaving himself ?’

Will literally send him over the edge.

The rest of the 141 can’t commandeer the bathroom for the rest of the day after that.

And when Gaz gets home, just know that your phone screen can’t protect you anymore.

Not when you have a man made of pure intellect and solid mass running full-force at you with all the pent-up energy seen only in a nuclear reactor.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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