#I gave him fish hook earrings (:

[kala-mies]

Your fish dad loves you!

[igotanidea]

Superstition: Jason Todd x witch!reader

requested by anon because it's October!

***

For some reason, the world is always in danger on Tuesdays.

And the newest threat to the existence of the people involved a group of superheroes and vigilantes and even anti-heroes gathering together to discuss the best way to tackle it.

Familiar faces and new ones, arrived at one deeply hidden lair (not really), not causing any reasons for suspicions (again – not really).

Who would pay attention to various, spandex-clad people, climbing to one apartment in the suburbs through the doors and windows, from the ground, air and water, right? It was freaking Gotham after all, weirdest things have happened.

And she was definitely someone new.

He didn’t pay much attention to that girl.

But somehow he noticed how she stood in the back of the room, watching everyone instead of joining in the conversation. How she mostly stayed quiet while the gathered was discussing plans and methods to defeat the newest opponent, only now and then throwing some well-pointed argument.

She was weird with that watchful eyes, focused face, specific kind of humor, wearing unusual clothes, speaking in a manner that indicated she knew something no one else did.

And that smell, he couldn’t quite decipher.

What was it?

Sage? Lavender? Rosemary?

Who, out of normal people, smells like kitchen seasoning?!

But –

Out of it all, she was at least useful. Or so it seemed, otherwise Dick would not bring her out to this meeting in the first place.  

And hell, he wouldn’t let her know everyone’s identities.

Well – not everyone. Jason was pretty stubborn with keeping his signature helmet on. He was not risking a stranger to know too much about him. Always the one to keep his cards close to his chest.

“Who is she?” he muttered to Dick, his voice distorted by the metal

“Her name is-“

“I don’t care about her name. What is she?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t make that face on me, Dickhead. You have aliens friends, robotic friends and turning-into-an-animal friends. What is she?”

“Oh, that!” Dick laughed, but then turned serious “I am not telling you that.”

Jason rolled his eyes. This was obviously a bait, and he was not some silly fish to rise to it.

“Fine. Don’t tell me.”

“You will have to- wait, what? You don’t want me tell you?” Dick’s face dropped a little

“Nope.”

“But-“

“I said nope.”

“Come on, Jas-“

“Don’t use my real name, idiot!”

“But I want to tell you!”

“A second ago you claimed that-“

“You are no fun.” Dick pouted like a five year old, crossed arms over his chest and after a moment of zero reaction from his brother walked away, probably to share how unfairly he had been treated.

***

She was a witch.

A freaking witch.

Without hair in her ears, warts, boils and hooked nose.

A witch!

Where was her cat? Her broom? Her – whatever else was a signature for that type of supernatural being.

“You might want to take it a little easier on me, you know?”

“Huh!?” Jason spun around only to notice she was now standing behind him with a soft face expression. “What are you-?”

“Oh, don’t you know that witch can read minds?”

“What now?” he blushed under the helmet on being called out on that, but obviously did not let it show. “Who gave you the permission to invade my head, witch!?” The last word was almost spitted with anger and venom dripping from the voice, followed by crossing arms that was supposed to be intimidating. However, much to his surprise she only chuckled. “Are you laughing at me now?!”

“Yes.”

“Careful there, harpy.” The second that word left his mouth he regretted it. First, she did not deserve to be judged so superficially and Jason should know better how painful it can be. Second, it showed that he was getting agitated and that was not the point. Third, fourth and fifth – she could drop him dead on the spot with her dark magic powers.

“Careful there, tin-head.”

Oh wow. She was mean.

“Or what?” he challenged

“Or I threw a curse at you.”

“And what?”

“Don’t test me.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh I bet, you’d be so happy, being able to boost to everyone who’d love to listen that you battled a witch that’s half your size, huh?”

“You don’t know me.” He scoffed, feeling a little offended and hurt.

“Well you don’t know me.”

Shit.

“What’s that scent you smell of?”

“Excuse me?!”

Idiot. At this point he felt like facepalming. So stupid trying to rectify the situation while simultaneously not wanting to say anything that would even resemble apology.

“The- ”

“It’s thyme. And verbena.”

“Why-?”

“It’s supposed to bring out luck and peace . And thyme brings out mental powers.”

“Hence the mind reading?”

“Oh, I was kidding about that. I cannot truly read minds. You were muttering to yourself and since I was standing close there was no way for me to not overhear.”

“So you are not-“

“A I’m -going-to-curse-you-with-pain-in-the-ass witch? No. I’m a little bit more reserved when it comes to that, but don’t tell anyone. I would be casted away from the clan.”

Despite himself he chuckled.

“So, what other discrepancies are there between you and the myths about the witch.”

“I’m not giving such secrets to just anyone, Hood.”

“I can respect that. Got my boundaries too.”

“Hence the helmet still on your face?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“I can respect that.” She nodded, “The world can be awful when it comes to quick and superficial conclusions, right?”

His head snapped her direction. How come she was speaking freely all those words he was holding deep inside his heart. Why did it feel like she actually meant everything said and didn’t just throw around empty platitudes?

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, you look at me like I’ve just murdered a cat for a dark ritual.”

“You can’t see my face. And I don’t like cats.”

“Sure not. Cause you are a dog person, right?”

“You’re being annoying.”

“And you’re being dramatic.”

God, he was hating her already.

***

Two weeks later, he was sitting in her apartment, helmet off, with her black cat on his lap, caressing the soft fur, observing carefully how Y/N was getting ready for the Valpurga Night, taking the weirdest clothes existing from the wardrobe. Judging by the style she had either robbed a homeless man or a prank store.

“Seriously this is how you guys are dressing?” he pointed out at the black robe and a pointy hat.

“What? No! Of course not, are you crazy? This is my Halloween costume. No respectable witch will ever wear a hat like this. God, last time the chairwoman of the assembly had a channel costume and three sets of pearls. Show off she was…”

Jason laughed despite himself.

“You’ve got a Halloween costume six months in advance?”

“Stop laughing or I’ll-“

“Curse me, yeah, yeah, I know the drill.” He raised hands in surrender, causing the cat to meow desperately, demanding more touches. “See, your cat likes me, why can’t you?”

“That cat happened to swallow too much catnip when I was preparing my potions earlier today. He’s not a credible judge at the moment.”

“I’d rather take his judgment over yours.”

Y/N flicked her wrist and the blanket on the bed wrapped over Jason turning him into a giant burrito.

“Seriously, this is the best you can do? Claiming to be powerful and –“

A second later he was levitating by the ceiling, heads down, not liking it at all.

***

One month later he found himself having a panic attack during the night. All the memories from the pit, the pain, the hurt, the trauma came back flooding him like a freaking tsunami.

The last thing he wanted was seeing and hearing things that did not exist.

A lunatic that was what he was.

And there was only one person he knew who was familiar with supernatural things and knew how to play with minds and reality with her skills.

“Y/N.” he stuttered to the phone, her name the only lifeline connecting him with the remnants of crumbling reality.

“I’m on my way.”

Of course she already knew what was happening.

Of course she was already coming to him, to save him from himself.

Ten minutes later, the window creaked and she just flew inside effortlessly, discarding her cloak on the floor and rushing to his side.

“The doors are out there, you weirdo” he stuttered, hating that she saw him in this vulnerable state. “You had to make a show, didn't you?”

“Though it could lift your spirits.” She muttered, without a hint of tease in her voice “and speaking of spirits, can I?” her hands lingered around his head.

“Please…”

Softly and slowly, she placed both palms on his temples, whispering something that might have been a spell, incantation or that curse she was threatening him with since the moment they met.

Regardless of what she chose to place on him, it seemed to work. The fog on his brain slowly dispersed and he almost felt the fear and anxiety floating away.

At least she was useful.

“What- what did you-?”

“hush. Quiet. Here, take that” she handed him a little vial.

“what’s that?”

“A poison. What do you think, jar-head? It; a potion. It will strengthen you.”

“I don’t need strengthening-“

“Just take it.” Her smaller hands wrapped around his, forcing him to keep the bottle. “Please.” For a moment their gazes met and the time seemed to stop. “I can’t risk having you waking me up in the middle of the night again, right?”

“Waking you? Thought you were out casting spells and running naked over the meadow?”

“Not really. It's the incoming moon phase. It’s the time for white magic, and we both know I’m a dark witch right?”

They both chuckled softly. She was as dark as Jason was lenient towards criminals.

“Stay?” he asked softly

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

***

He didn’t plan it.

Definitely not, but how was he supposed to help being drawn towards that weirdo that seemed to shake up his world? How could he resist the pull towards the otherworldly and the only person that seemed to understand him completely?

The first time she saw him use the all caste he almost noticed the admiration in her eyes.

The first time he observed her actually casting curses and using her powers he felt like he could jump into fire for her.

And it was not because of a spell.

He was –

Oh boy….

A vigilante and a witch.

A walking zombie and a mistress of spirits and supernatural.

What could possibly go wrong?

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗢, 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗗 sebastian vetteln x fem! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . In which a bus stop acts as a way-point for two idiots who are madly in love.

( master list | more of sebastian vettel ) ( requests )

put my blood and sweat into this, took me so long to write, enjoy

tagging my #1 sebastian fan @forza55

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2006

rain was always so calming. A constant in your life. The raindrops would follow one another and make a pitter patter noise as they landed on the earth, weather on the ground, leaves, or in water again.

You could hear it loud and clear despite your headphones and icecap covering your ears. You weren't listening to music, but rather had the music instrument to divert anyone from talking to you. The bus stop was not too crowded, and the same people every Wednesday huddled under the stop's shelter like fish in a bucket.

Your face, of course, was buried in your book. What else would you be doing? Flipping the page as you glanced at your watch. 2 more minutes, you sighed.

"Excuse me." You snapped your head up, looking at the drenched blond that stepped under the ran protective roof. "Did bus, 38 leave yet?" He was panting, one hand on his knee as he looked up at you. You?

You were taken aback by his eyes, looking around to see if he he was taking to anyone else, but no, his blue eyes were on you. "I um -" You took a headphone off to be polite. "No, it should be, oh yeah, turn around." Just in time, you bit the inside of your lip as the blond gave you a thankful smile.

The people from the bus top filed in, taking a seat and resuming their activities. You decided to stand. Someone else could need your seat more than you do. And apparently, someone also thought the same thing, but he wasn't used to the bus's immediate halts.

Standing a few feet behind you was a bad idea because with the wet floor and sudden red traffic light, you found yourself catching Sebastian Vettel from slipping down on the floor and taking him with you.

Those blue eyes were too big for his head, scratch that. They were perfect. The amount of time the two of you spent with your arm hooked around his waist and him holding onto the handle above to catch his balance, was enough for you sketch the beauty he was in your head.

"Sorry." "It's okay." You dismissed, with a polite smile, helping him stand up straight. "Maybe you should sit down." "Eh, someone else might need it more than me." He said hesitantly, shrugging. The smile on your face widened, and features softened. His did too, seeing the elegant moon in your eyes shine on him with what he could describe as a gentle goddess giving a flower to a loyal worshipper.

"I'm Sebastian." "Y/N."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2007

No one ever sits on the chair beside you. When the seats were vacant and you sat down, it'd be just you. But today, a familiar face returned. After only appearing for two weeks, you finally get to see the blue eyes and fluff after a year.

"Whatcha reading?" He asks, looking down at your book. A smile shined on your face as you closed the pages to show him the title. "Just light reading." You hummed quietly, glancing up as the bus arrived.

You stood together on the bus, catching up on recent events. Which included him getting a "promotion" at his job. You kind of got into that topic more, you learned that his job took him to travel the world, and that included being here in Canada for a week every year, Thursday to Sunday.

Only, today was Monday. And last year when he visited he stayed for three Thursdays: three weeks, triple the time he should. You didn't ask about that, maybe it was just personal, or he had family here. You didn't ask what his job was either since he didn't disclose it on his own. You sure it was just a big fancy company that was related to computers and cyber tech since they were big things at this time.

When you got off with Seb at your stop, the both of you decided to stop at a café before plopping down on the couch in a corner in the grand library. Your hands were too busy holding the warm paper cup you didn't realize that Sebastian was leading the way. His hand on the small off your back, pulling you from your shirt to stop you at a cross walk ( red goers dead goers ) or walking on the outside of the street so it was safter for you to sip on your hot chocolate in peace.

The noon was spent peacefully, sitting beside each other, noses in books. Sebastian had such a calming presence, you even laid your head on his shoulder and watched him go through books about motors and cars ( which you found terribly cute ).

The week continued like usual, with seb having to leave early from Thursday to Saturday. On Monday he stayed long enough to take you out to lunch. The two of you sat at a nice dinner overlooking St. Lawrence river, and later you had a nice walk along the water body, linking arms together.

You spent the rest of the day with him, all the way back to the bus stop long after the sun had set. "Are you staying far from here?" You asked, brushing some hair from his eyes gently. He shrugged looking out at the illuminated streets. "I'm German, a walk is a walk." You couldn't help but chuckle as he pointed at his inflated chest proudly.

"I'll . . . see you tomorrow morning?" He asked hesitantly as he started walking away backwards slowly, looking at you. You nodded, a wide sile on your face as you walked in the opposite direction, backwards as well. "Get hoe safe." "You too."

But for whatever reason. He wasn't there in the morning. He usually makes it just two minutes before the bus. But today, you had to ride all alone. You had to sit all alone in the library too, and buy hot chocolate on your own too. Wednesday was like that as well, and Thursday as follows. And on Sunday, as you sat at the cafe, blowing hot air in your palms to warm yourself up when your ear caught a familiar name on the television.

"And eighth on his debut, the nineteen year old Sebastian Vettel standing in for the injured Robert Kubica scores one point for BMW."

Your Sebastian Vettel just scared a point in the pinnacle of motorsport?

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2008

Your smile is wide as you watch the blond arrive. You scootch over in your seat since the other one was taken and immediately Seb takes a seat beside you. "Mr. Vettel, would you be so kind to sign my shirt?" You joke, and when he looks as the top you're wearing he almost burst into laughter, putting his face in his hands.

"There's this store that sells merch, I thought it looked good." You shrug, nudging him. "Oh my god." He wipes his eyes looking at it. "Who's that?" He points to the shirt you were wearing, new Torro rosso merch with the new driver. "You don't know Sebastian Vettel?" You gasp, putting your hand on your chest in fake and dramatic offence. "He's the next World Champion." "Really?" "Oh yea, for sure. Maybe not this year or the next. But he'll do great one day."

"I was hoping to know, do you think Sebastian would be able to invite this friend of his to the race on Sunday." "I don't know, I'll have to check. I'm sure he'll be intent on bringing her to all of the races if she says yes." "She says yes."

university can wait.

It can wait till after Seb's first home grand prix, hugging him tightly after the race. Till after you go out with him that after party to dance all night. It can wait till the two of you cakesmash each other the next morning then laugh your asses off as you struggle to clean up.

university can defiantly wait till after a trip to Italy. Sitting at a very expensive restaurant and eating pasta despite dietary restrictions. It can wait sightseeing and museums. And most defiantly wait till after Sebastian's first win. After he kisses you post celebration and post podium, sharing the bottle of champagne

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2009

"That was beautiful, amour." [love] you smiled as Sebastian finally reached you. This year round, both of you were wearing red bull branded clothes, while seb wore the race suit, you wore the kit.

"I'm pretty sure you should look in a mirror because you're much more beautiful." The German joked, sharing a quick kiss with you. Christian could see the look of pride and admiration on your face as Sebastian hopped on the top pedestal for the Chinese grand prix. And of curse, as anyone in your places would, you blew kisses to each other.

"Its a pretty trophy." You hummed once you got a hold of it after the podium ceremony. The garage was still hype from the win, and you couldn't deny that your heart was hammering in your chest still. "It is." Adrian newey, your boss nodded looking between you and sebastian who was chasing his mechanics with the bottle of champagne.

"This is going to be a nice year. A very nice year." You hummed to yourself, feeling yourself smile watching your lover laugh. He looked at you with his eyebrows raised. And before you knew it, he was chasing you up and down the pitlane. Safe to say the skirt you were wearing was not helping you and you were eventually sticky and sweet.

"Let me taste." Seb held your waste, leaning in for a kiss. You managed to pull away, blushing and pushing on his chest playfully. "The whole world will see us." You scolded, folding your arms shyly. You were, after all, in the pitlane, any fan or journalist or camera could see and forever etch the moment into the internet.

"Let them see, let the world know that you're mine and I'm yours."

"You cheeky bastard."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2010

"Shhhh." "Let me seeee!" "Shhhh!" You shushed him even harder, pushing him away from his face. "I'm working." You scolded, slightly smacking his chest.

Pre season was almost here, and you were finishing up the design to the RB6. Moving from Montreal to London for the job was a big change. Although you weren't able to graduate university with your planned engineering degree, you were talented and gifted enough to score a designer position with Red bull racing.

Adrian Newey supervised over you and saw you as a skilled individual. You were able to preform well, abiding within the rules of F1 to create extraordinary work. Well, you work fine when Sebastian is not at your neck trying to look at the blueprints for the RB6.

"Oh come on, Let me see what you're going to be putting me in. I'm going to drive it anyways." You shook you head to yourself. As soon as you stopped holding Seb away from his chest, he had immediately put his nose in all your work and notes asking questions and making pointers even though the man never learned anything in university about any of this.

"Make it super fast." He tells you. You couldn't help but chuckle at his antics. "I don't make the car fast. The driver does." You joke getting up. "besides, I can already tell, we've bagged this season." You breath out happily kissing his cheek as you pass him to go to the kitchen.

"I like the way you think." He smirked following you, leaning his forearms on the kitchen counter, watching you as you skimmed through the fridge for something. "You hungry? We can go out." He offered, pushing himself up and coming up from behind you, hugging your waist and searching with his eyes through the content of the fridge same way you did.

"I don't know . . . I'm craving gâteau, tiramisu maybe? I don't know. Sugar, something sweet." [cake] You sighed in thought. "Do you wat something sweet?" you looked back at him only to see his cute smile and his blue gorgeous eyes on you.

"I have my infinite share of sweetness." You raised a brow confused at his words, only to be answered by his lips pressing on yours. "Why would I want anything cake or gâteau," he mocked, "when I have you?" "verry funny, seb." you chuckled, playfully rolling your eyes only to be met with another kiss.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were stressed, very stressed. after the car had preformed well and met your expectations during testing, it did not deliver well enough not in the first race with Alonso had won nor the second race in which Sebastian had to retire. mark in the other seat wasn't doing any better with 8th and 9th, which were yes in the points, but not in the championship.

Sebastian had taken pole during both weekends, the first race in Bahrain where his car lost power in the last few laps and the second race in Australia where the brakes failed due to mechanical issues. And it all felt like it was your fault. Like you didn't put enough effort in the car at the beginning in the season, like you costed a beloved new family and team money and a championship.

The stress and nerves wouldn't leave you, sitting on the pit wall as you watched the lights turn red one by one. Webber is on pole this time with seb in the second row with p3. chewing your pencil, you counted down till the lights went out, eyes on the screens in front of you displaying important specs that would help you with possible outcomes and opportunities for strategies.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest as the drivers pressed on the throttle for the Malaysian grand prix. with your note book in hand and pen between your fingers, you began scribbling and planning and thinking.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your heart hammers in your chest as Sebastian crosses the finish line first. You hardly register the cheers around you as you push through the crowd, your feet carrying you to parc fermé on pure instinct. There he is—Sebastian, climbing out of his car, arms raised in triumph, the kind of smile that could light up the entire paddock plastered across his face.

“Seb!” you call out, your voice cracking with emotion. His head whips around, and the moment his eyes land on you, he opens his arms without hesitation.

You throw yourself into him, gripping him so tightly you're not sure where he ends and you begin. The smell of sweat and champagne clings to him, but you don’t care. All that matters is the way he holds you back, his joy infectious.

“You did it,” you whisper, your voice shaky. “You actually did it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he replies, his words soft but weighty, his voice muffled against your hair. And for a fleeting moment, it feels like the world belongs to the two of you.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The words echo in your ears, muffled yet unmistakable: “Du bist Weltmeister!” It feels surreal, like you’ve stepped into a dream. The grand prix is over, and yet your heart races faster than it ever did during the race.

Sebastian’s disbelief mirrors your own as he clambers out of his car, shaking his head in wonder before he sees you. You barely have time to brace yourself before he’s pulling you into another bone-crushing hug, his breath coming out in a stuttering laugh against your shoulder.

“We did it!” he exclaims, his voice thick with emotion.

“No,” you correct him, though your voice cracks from the tears threatening to spill. “You did it, Seb. You’re the world champion.”

Later, on the podium, Sebastian lifts the constructor’s trophy beside you, his smile splitting his face as the crowd roars. When the champagne sprays, you barely have time to duck before he turns the bottle on you, his laughter blending with yours in the chaos. It’s a moment frozen in time, one you’ll replay over and over in your mind.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2011

Moving into the Milton Keynes apartment had been his idea. Despite his Monaco residence, Sebastian had insisted that being close to you—and the team—mattered more. The apartment wasn’t much, but it became home.

You’d cook dinner together, sometimes burning the pasta because you were too busy teasing each other. When you weren’t at the factory or the track, you were exploring cities together, summer and winter breaks filled with spontaneous vacations. Hiking in the Alps, sipping espresso on cobbled streets in Rome, or lying on the beaches of Ibiza—it was always the two of you against the world.

It was simple. It was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2014

The tension had been building for weeks. Every race felt like a battlefield, but not just for Sebastian on the track—it had seeped into the small apartment you shared, turning it into a minefield neither of you seemed able to navigate. The car wasn’t competitive, the championship slipping further out of reach with every race weekend. It gnawed at him, at both of you, but Sebastian wasn’t used to losing.

That night, it all came to a head.

“I’m giving everything I have!” he snapped, pacing across the narrow living room, his hands tugging at his hair. His voice was sharp, louder than you’d ever heard it before, echoing against the walls. “Do you think I want to be stuck fighting for fifth?”

You flinched, his frustration rolling off him in waves, but you stood your ground. Crossing your arms, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “I never said that, Seb. But you’re shutting me out! How am I supposed to help you if you won’t even let me in?”

He stopped mid-stride, turning to face you with a look that made your stomach twist. His lips parted, and for a moment, you thought he might say something to ease the blow, to let you in the way you were begging him to. But then, the words came out like a slap:

“Maybe you can’t help!”

The air in the room went heavy, suffocating. Your breath hitched as the weight of his words settled in your chest, sharp and cutting. You stared at him, waiting for him to take it back, to soften the edges of what he’d just said. But he didn’t. He just stood there, his chest rising and falling, his eyes darting away from yours.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice quiet, strained. It was all you could manage.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, dragging his hand down his face, but he didn’t say anything. No apology, no explanation. And somehow, that was worse.

The rest of the night passed in silence. He retreated to the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him, while you sat alone in the dimly lit living room, staring blankly at the coffee table. The tension was still there, like an invisible wall between you, and you knew—knew—that this wasn’t just about the car. It was about everything.

By mid-season, you couldn’t take it anymore. The team’s focus was shifting, Sebastian’s frustration was mounting, and your own heartbreak was becoming unbearable. You handed in your resignation at Red Bull with trembling hands, the words barely audible as you told Christian you were leaving.

Porsche’s hypercar program was a lifeline. It wasn’t just about stepping away from the team—it was about stepping away from Sebastian, from the version of him you didn’t recognize anymore. You threw yourself into your work, finishing your master’s degree with a kind of single-minded determination that bordered on obsession. A PhD followed, and so did your work alongside Mark Webber.

But even as the years passed, the sting of that night, of those words—Maybe you can’t help!—never truly faded. They echoed in your mind at the most unexpected times, in the quiet moments when you let your guard down. You told yourself you’d moved on, but deep down, you knew part of you was still in that small apartment in Milton Keynes, staring at the man you once thought you’d never lose.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2024

The Porsche garage hummed with activity—mechanics adjusting tools, engineers poring over screens, the air filled with the familiar scents of fuel and rubber. It was a controlled chaos you thrived in, but when Sebastian walked in, the rhythm faltered, like someone had pressed pause on the world.

You looked up, drawn by an instinct you couldn’t explain. He stood just inside the doorway, his gaze scanning the room until it landed on you.

Time seemed to collapse, the years between you vanishing in an instant. He looked... different. His features had sharpened with age, a faint streak of silver glinting in his hair, but his eyes—those striking, unyielding eyes—remained the same.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The noise of the garage dulled to a murmur, replaced by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

Finally, you smiled, forcing yourself to break the spell. “Good seeing you again, Seb.”

Your voice was steady, but your extended hand trembled slightly. He stepped forward, taking it in his. His grip was firm, grounding, and the touch lingered longer than it should have.

“Yn,” he said, your name a quiet acknowledgment, a memory resurrected.

The handshake ended, and with it, the fragile bubble of familiarity. You withdrew, your professionalism snapping into place like armor, but the warmth of his palm against yours stayed, a phantom sensation.

Later, you stood at the pit wall, your headset snug over your ears as you stared at the monitors in front of you. Rows of data scrolled across the screens—lap times, tire degradation, telemetry—all of it meant to hold your focus. But no amount of numbers could drown out the echo of Sebastian’s voice when he’d said your name.

Out on the track, the Porsche glided through the apex of a turn, sleek and powerful under Sebastian’s control. His voice crackled through your headset, cutting through your scattered thoughts. “Car feels good.”

It was measured, professional, but you caught it—that faint hesitation, the undertone of something unresolved.

“Copy that,” you replied, gripping the edge of the console until your knuckles whitened. Your voice was clipped, businesslike, but it felt like a mask too thin to hold. “Let’s push for one more flying lap.”

Sebastian’s car roared down the straight, his hands tightening around the wheel. He leaned into the motion of the car, each turn precise, his instincts still razor-sharp. But beneath the surface, his mind was a storm. Every shift of the gears felt weighted, every flick of the wheel a reminder of how much had changed—and how much had stayed the same.

Inside the garage, the silence between radio updates was deafening. You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to focus on the present. But every beep of the telemetry felt like a heartbeat, syncing with the one pounding in your chest.

When Sebastian finally returned to the pit lane, you stepped back, giving him space as he climbed out of the car. For a moment, his eyes found yours again, a flash of something unspoken passing between you.

The handshake earlier had been a bridge—a brief moment of connection—but now, standing apart, the gap between you felt impossibly vast. Neither of you moved to close it.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The bus stop was dimly lit, the flickering streetlamp above casting fleeting shadows on the damp pavement. A cold breeze tugged at your coat, sneaking past the fabric to nip at your skin. You tucked your hands deeper into your pockets, rocking on your heels to stay warm.

The sound of an engine broke through the quiet, low and familiar. Headlights curved around the corner, slowing as they approached. You turned, squinting into the glow, and recognition struck before the car even stopped.

Sebastian’s car.

He rolled down the window, leaning over with an easy grace that looked so natural, like no time had passed. His gaze found yours, soft and warm, but carrying something you couldn’t quite place.

“Need a lift?” he asked, voice steady but tinged with something almost hesitant.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you stepped closer, the teasing retort slipping out effortlessly. “Are you my 39 North today?”

His chuckle was low, the kind that felt like the rumble of a car engine in your chest. “Only because you’re my favorite passenger.”

Without hesitation, you opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, the faint scent of leather and something distinctly Sebastian enveloping you. As you buckled up, you glanced at him, taking in the way his fingers rested on the steering wheel, tapping lightly in an unconscious rhythm.

“Still driving like you’re on the autobahn?” you teased, adjusting the seatbelt.

He cast a sidelong glance at you, a small smile playing at his lips. “I could say the same about you. You were always terrible at staying in the slow lane.”

You laughed, the sound breaking through the quiet tension that had settled between you both. As the car pulled away, the city lights painted streaks across the windshield, and for the first time in years, the silence felt comfortable. 

Like maybe, just maybe.

[novelmonger]

I wasn't expecting it to take this long, but after a million distractions, I'm back to going through the LotR audio commentaries and taking note of any interesting tidbits I haven't heard before.

Please enjoy my notes on the RotK design team commentary with Richard Taylor, Tania Rodger, Grant Major, Alan Lee, John Howe, Dan Hennah, and Chris Hennah:

They had to make Deagol's ears out of waterproof gelatin rather than latex because he was going to fall in the water, and the normal latex ears would have come off. I guess they must have done the same any other time a Hobbit got submerged, but they didn't say that.

The fish that Gollum eats at the beginning is made from some kind of edible gelatin so he could actually bite into it. They also had another prop fish that wasn't edible that they gave Andy Serkis to keep at the end XD

The little stone hollow thing where Frodo and Sam are sleeping for their first scene in the movie was a set they built with a removable back wall so they could get a camera in to shoot it from the back as well as the front. Why did I never think of that before?

There were a couple of extra shots they needed of Orthanc in the background to finish up the movie, but they hadn't managed to get the footage from the miniatures (and I guess the miniatures were gone by that point? idk). So they took one of the model collectibles Weta had made and took some photos of it out in the parking lot XD

Whoooooaaaa! Okay, so Alan Lee talks about how, in legends, they say that you have to kill a wizard three times for him to stay dead. And Saruman dies "three times" - first he's stabbed, then he's impaled, then he's drowned. So Saruman is dead dead. Dare I say it? This is...I think this is a better death than the one in the book ._.

They even put carvings on the crossbeams underneath the seats of the chairs in Edoras! You are never ever going to see them, but that was their dedication to making everything feel authentic. That's what sets this apart from so many fantasy movies and shows made these days.

Red in the costumes is meant to suggest royalty. That's why Aragorn, Boromir, Theoden, and Theodred all have red in their costumes - as well as Bilbo and Frodo! You're meant to look at someone wearing red and unconsciously think, "there's something regal about them."

John Howe points out that you probably wouldn't ever reforge a sword like they do with Narsil, at least not in the sense of putting the pieces back together, because it wouldn't be as strong as it was originally. (You could melt it down and start over again, of course.) But, he reminds us, these are the Elves, and it's more of a symbolic thing anyway.

The great hall in Minas Tirith was inspired by Charlemagne's chapel (and Byzantine architecture was one of the main influences on the design of Gondor in general).

The statue of the king in Ithilien was made out of polystyrene, which you would think would be pretty light, but it was so huge it was actually very heavy. They had to transport it to the location in three pieces: the base, the body, and the head. And to lift one on top of each other, they had to rig a sort of pulley system over the limb of a tree, using a four-wheel drive truck to pull it. But they discovered that the first truck wasn't getting enough traction, so they hooked a second truck up to it, and ended up pulling the first truck up into the air along with the statue!

They created fourteen new weapons just to put in the background of the armory in the scene where the Witch-King is getting ready for battle @_@

John Howe said that his inspiration for Minas Morgul was...getting his wisdom teeth pulled??? He describes a metal clamp digging into the perfectly healthy enamel of his tooth to pull it out, and draws a parallel to the metal pieces the orcs fitted to the top of the pristine white parapets, staining and violating them. Um...thanks, I could've done without that visual, John.

I can't believe I never thought about this before, but there's a little wooden roof over the pile of wood for the beacon that Pippin lights. The reasoning behind that is you need some kind of cover to keep the wood more or less dry for when it needs to be lit in an emergency. The beacon will burn away the wooden roof, but it can be replaced easily enough, and it's worth it to be able to quickly light the beacon.

A lot of the saddles they used were ordered from the Indian military, because they had a good, old-fashioned sort of look to them. Then they would add onto the saddles with things that would make them look distinctly Rohirric, rather than Indian.

Alan Lee's daughter worked on some of the figures in the doors of Minas Tirith!

John Howe goes off on this whole tangent about how there's no religion or religious structures in Middle-Earth, and why that might be, but the whole time I was just sitting there going, "...have you never read The Silmarillion????"

Because they had to make over a hundred suits of Gondorian armor, other than the hero suits, they couldn't make each one exactly the right size for the man who would wear it, so the casting department had to only get actors within a certain range of size. They also built the suits of armor with sliding pieces, so they could be somewhat fitted to different sizes.

The horses started out as being part of the art department's responsibility, but as time went on, there were just so many horses they had to keep track of (and the various liveries they would have to be fitted out with) that they had to make a separate horse department to oversee it all.

Because so much of the movie was filmed on-location, in some very remote locations, they had to make a sort of caravan of mobile repair stations that they could take with them. They had all the tools and crew necessary on hand wherever they went so they could repair broken props or ripped costumes, reapply makeup for gore and injuries, take nicks out of the edge of weapons.... It was really like moving an army around!

For the dream where the Evenstar breaks, they made a version of it that was five times bigger than normal, out of a very brittle resin. Then they made an oversized section of the floor and dropped it from a great height so it would completely shatter in a dramatic way like that.

Anduril was John Howe's design. He based it on a sword belonging to a friend of his in Germany, which to him is the ideal sword, the most beautiful sword. He also talked a bit about how Men were taller and bigger in the First and Second Ages, so their swords would have been longer.

John Howe: "Why do people criticize Tolkien for not developing his characters sufficiently? I cannot fathom that kind of criticism. I think it's done by people who don't read between the lines."

Richard Taylor said they had a lot of fun gathering up all the skulls after each take in the Paths of the Dead to put back up at the top so they could be poured down again. Apparently Viggo liked to gather them up and try to throw them at the crew members! "Many hours of skullduggery was to be had," as Richard put it XD

Apparently, they'd made dozens of really finely detailed silicone heads to be lobbed over the wall of Minas Tirith, but then all but one of them were stolen! So they had to quickly put together some crude latex ones to use in the shoot instead (one of which the mayor of Wellington threw). They didn't talk about this, but I'm assuming the one good head that was left is the one that gets a close-up. You have to wonder who out there was sitting around with a bunch of highly realistic latex severed heads in his basement or something....

While most of the siege towers are miniatures or CG, they built the top third of one and put it on tracks so they could move it up against the wall. They built the set with breakable ramparts for when the little drawbridge thing crashes down.

They had the same trouble in Minas Tirith that they did in Helm's Deep, with the battering ram being too heavy for the stunties to lift. But they never actually explained how they got around that problem, if it was the same solution or not :/ All they said was that they had replaceable panels in the doors, in case they were damaged by the battering ram.

In order to make Shelob's webs, they had to heat up two polymers and mix them together to make the stringy, sticky material. In order to mix them, they had to be heated up to 220 degrees C, but if they got up to 228 degrees, they would burst into flame @_@ After they were heated and mixed, they would dribble the mixture on top of a vat of water, where it would cool in spiderweb-like shapes. Then they would lift it out on a frame, and they could carefully place it on the set. One time, the polymers did burst into flame, and they were running out of fire extinguishers to put it out! O.O Eventually, they did call the fire department, who said they'd done everything the fire department would have done. They got the fire put out, but it was a nerve-wracking moment, because the room where they were making the webs was connected to the studio, so it could have been disastrous D:

Bernard Shaw apparently got the idea to do that whole bit where he knocks his sword against the row of spears when he saw the collection of spears all lined up in a row in the art department.

The "oil" that Denethor pours over himself and Faramir is a mixture of glycerin and water. (I always wonder about these things, so I'm really glad they mentioned it.)

When they were filming the pyre scene, they had a silicone dummy for Faramir on the burning pyre. Apparently somebody on the crew brought "David Wenham" a cup of coffee over because they thought he'd fallen asleep on the side of the set, only to discover that it was a dummy! XD

The horse rig they made for close-up work of people on horseback got affectionately nicknamed "the Phony Pony." The first day they brought it on set, Peter Jackson got up on it and "rode" the horse, making the whole crew laugh XD

One of the ideas that Peter Jackson came up with for the mumakil in a brainstorming session (which Richard Taylor says he's still not sure if PJ was serious about or not) was that they could suck up several riders in its trunk and then fire them out like bullets. I'm...really glad they didn't go with that, whether PJ was serious or not <_<

Alan Lee says that the first time he saw the dead mumakil that Weta made for the set, the body was hollow, and some of the crew had set up a TV inside it and were watching a rugby game XD

The last miniature they built for LotR was the Minas Tirith docks where the Corsair ships come in. It kept getting put off until almost the end of the shoot, so they only had five days to put it together! @_@

All of the dead horses are fake, of course, so Weta had to make them all. They were made of lightweight material, so each day you'd see the set dressers just kind of casually carrying in a whole dead horse and then picking one up from the battlefield afterwards like it's no big deal. They had to do a lot of repairs to the dead horses, because the legs and ears kept falling off or getting bent the wrong way XD

The stone Watchers in Cirith Ungol have Maori influence in their design. I wish they'd talked about that in more detail, but it was just mentioned in passing.

They were concerned about the various copies of the One Ring being stolen, so they kept it in a lunchbox that was labeled "Screws."

The scene where Frodo and Sam join the orc convoy was filmed on location up on a mountain, so they had to deal with a whole bunch of extras in extensive prosthetics and armor, which would make them sweat while they were moving around, but then when the camera wasn't rolling, it would be a challenge to keep them warm. The way they did most of the orcs was that they wore a rubber mask and then a helmet, and they would need to take them off at regular intervals so the actors could get some air. So in between takes, after the director called, "Cut!" there would also be a cry of, "Heads off!" That meant the dressers would have to rush into the crowd and quickly take off the extras' helmets and masks XD

Because the crew was committed to not damaging any of the flora and fauna in the places where they were filming, even in the location that became the plains of Mordor that Frodo and Sam struggle across, there were little flowers and moss that they wanted to protect (and it was a national park). So they would lay down carpets on the ground for people to walk on, so they wouldn't damage the plant life. I'm sure that made for a strange sight, Frodo and Sam struggling in tattered clothing over rocks and boulders, surrounded by perfectly ordinary rugs XD

To do the decapitation of the Mouth of Sauron, they had a headless dummy sitting there, and Viggo would swipe his sword where the head should be. Then Weta Digital put in the head afterwards.

The lava in Mount Doom was mostly a miniature (except for the set where Sean and Elijah did their part), made from methyl cellulose and other things to make it look like lava. They set it up on a table that they would tilt so it would flow down around the model boulders made from urethane.

Richard Taylor said that, at that time, no one had really done a very good CG bird, so he was especially pleased at how the eagles turned out.

There were about 400 people working in the art department total, and most of them had never worked in the film industry before! @_@

Ngila Dickson's philosophy for the Elves was that none of their "crowns" or headpieces would go upwards, but would fit close around their heads and then go down. That's one of those things I've subconsciously noticed all these years, but never really thought about before.

Apparently, a little bit of the graphite used on Aragorn's armor in the coronation scene kind of puffed out when he and Arwen go in for their kiss, and got on Arwen's dress D: And some well-meaning person tried to rub it off, but only succeeded in spreading it around further, thus ruining the dress. And most of the female characters only had one copy of each costume, because all except for Eowyn don't see battle and thus don't need different versions with varying amounts of wear and tear. They're just made to wear in one or two scenes of them looking pretty and walking through a room. But alas, that lovely green dress was ruined.

They didn't have much time with Sir Ian Holm, so they only had a week to get a mold of his face and make the old-age prosthetics for the Grey Havens. But then word came down that he didn't want to have prosthetics, so they were to just make him look old with makeup. They were really disappointed, but then on the day, Ian Holm saw the prosthetics sitting off in the corner and asked what it was. When they explained, he said it wasn't true, and insisted on them putting the prosthetics on instead.

One thing that was really impressed upon me during this whole commentary (over all three movies) was just how much love and joy all of the crew had for the project. Sometimes you watch a movie or read a book that really means a lot to you, that's changed your life, and you wonder if the people who made it fully grasp what a beautiful thing they've created. These people know. They were fully aware, from start to finish, that they were making something truly great and worthy of praise. And I think that's beautiful.

[sorchathered]

Got my sights set on you- Jake Seresin x reader

Pairing- Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

Warnings-language, drinking, Jake being a massive flirt

A/N- I don’t have much of a summary for this, just clearing out my wips for you all and found this little gem I wrote last summer! Hope you enjoy!

———————————————————————————

If there was one thing you knew about Jake Seresin it was that he was a massive flirt. Men, women, non-binary, didn’t much matter your gender he was a tease and everyone knew it. Lately he’d set his sights on you, and he was relentless. You had to admit you liked the attention, and dropping him down a peg with snappy comments was always entertaining. You enjoyed the banter between the two of you, it had been fun and games until one night you noticed another girl from the bar had seemed to catch his attention, pulling out all the stops for her instead of sitting and chatting you up. It shouldn’t have bothered you, it was just a game right? Neither of you had ever made a move and he had every right to talk to whoever he pleased. Rooster could see through all your bullshit, sidling up next to you as he followed your eyeline to Jake and the brunette that seemed to have him enthralled in conversation.

“So Vixen, when you gonna admit to yourself that this little thing you’ve got going with Hangman is more than a schoolgirl crush?” You glared up at him and opened your mouth to snap at him but it died in your throat when you saw the sympathetic look on his face, you hated that he could see how transparent you were. “It was just a crush, really, I thought I just enjoyed the back and forth but… shit rooster what am I supposed to do here? It’s Hangman we’re talking about, he doesn’t do relationships, and in the end I’ll just get hurt so what’s the point?” You cradled your head in your hands against the bar top as Bradley patted your shoulder. “Kid I hate to be the one to burst your doom bubble but if you gave that man the time of day he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. I've seen him when he’s just looking for a hook up and that’s not what this is with you. He may be chatting that girl up but he won’t take her home, in fact I don’t think he’s taken anyone home in months, most of the time he just moons over you. I bet if you walked over there right now and told him to take you home he’d be putty in your hands, you wield more power than you know honey.”

You rolled your eyes at him, there was no way in hell he was into you like that, but as rooster passed you a shot of tequila you glanced back at Jake and he was looking right at you. Fuck it, you were going for it. Tossing back the shot you squared your shoulders and swayed your hips as you walked towards him, he wasn’t paying a bit of attention to the girl talking his ear off anymore, eyes completely focused on you. “Hey Vix, haven’t seen you all night-“ he said as you pressed yourself between him and the brunette, shock crossing his features as you waved her off.

“Uh we were talking!”

“And now you’re not, see how that works?”

You hit her with an icy glare and blessedly little miss tag chaser seemed to take the hint, off to lick her wounds with god knows who. That wasn’t your business or your problem. Right now you need to keep the momentum going and get your man.

“So a little birdie told me that I should shoot my shot, how about it, Seresin? You talk a big game, wanna take me home?” For once in your life Jake Seresin was at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing like a fish, completely in shock.

“Uh-I- yeah-yeah absolutely. Sweet Jesus darlin’ please don’t fuck with me, I don’t know if my heart can take it.” The cocksure grin is back, but you can tell he’s still unsure, so you slide even closer and press your lips to his. It starts out completely innocent, just reassurance that you are actually into him, but you quickly remember who you’re dealing with and Jake Seresin certainly isn’t all talk, sliding one hand into your hair and the other into the back pocket of your jeans, running his tongue along your lips as you give him entrance, letting him make out with you right here in the middle of the bar, where all your coworkers can see.

You can hear whoops and whistles from your friends and it breaks you both apart, taking in deep breaths between your giggles. “Still up for taking me home?” You whisper as you smooth your hands through his golden hair, and where you expect more sexual innuendo and banter you’re left with something more. He smiles down at you and kisses your nose, the look he’s giving is melting you from the inside out, maybe Rooster was right; maybe this wasn’t just fun and games. “I can definitely take you home sugar, but I don’t want just a hook up from you, I’m thinking tomorrow you let me take you on a real date, you deserve to be treated to all the bells and whistles baby girl.” If you gave him the chance he’d wife you up on the spot if he was honest, but he’d give you some time before he told you all the ideas he had for the future.

You looked a little shell shocked at that, sure he’d been flirty but he’d never once made you think he was interested in more than a night or two.

“I can see the wheels turning in that pretty head y/n, don’t overthink it baby, just let me show you how good I can be.”

And he was, in fact, very good.

———————————————————————————

Tagging- @roosterforme @shanimallina87 @jessicab1991 @honeytwrites @heavenssins @dizzybee03 @kissmecaitie @sio-ina-bottle @sunsetsimpsblog @mynameismckenziemae @trickphotography2 @seitmai @callsigns-haze

[alltheirdamn]

Couch Chronicles | One Shot

Frankie Morales x f!reader x Benny Miller

Summary: When you accidentally tell your boyfriend, Frankie, that you think his best friend is cute... he makes a plan. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: strictly smut, established relationship, threesome, mmf dynamic, heavy kissing, a stupid amount of neck kissing, nipple play, oral (f! and m! receiving), fingering, choking, rough sex, cum eating, deepthroat, unprotected piv sex, multiple creampies, degrading kink (very mild), praise kink, pet names (pretty girl, baby, babygirl), language, men whimpering (i know) A/N: I want two boyfriends, and I want the boyfriends to be boyfriends... yeah, you guys know how it goes. idk I had an idea, tossed some words together, and here we are. not my finest work and probably a lil shitty in terms of technicality, but I was craving a good trip to Paris.

Masterlist | Ko-fi

You were lying in bed with Frankie one night, scrolling through social media, when you came across a new post from Benny. It was from a recent fishing trip down to the lake, and he was shirtless, holding a large trout in his hand. You tapped on the screen twice, liking the photo and spending an extra few seconds staring at his tall frame and shaggy blonde hair doused in sunlight. 

“You know he is pretty cute,” you said aloud, showing Frankie the photo.

Frankie and Benny were close, best friends even. You had spent time with him here and there over the years at barbecues and small group settings. He was always friendly and welcomed you into the group with open arms. You and Frankie had been dating for a while now, and you were well aware of his past with the group of men and the missions they had gone on. But now he was home for good, making a living for himself and staying clean. 

“Do you ever think about fucking him?” Frankie asked casually, glancing from the screen to your face.

“Frankie, oh my God!” You gasped. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You gaped at him, shutting off your phone and placing it on the nightstand.

“Hey, I wasn’t asking to start an argument,” he said coolly. “It was a genuine question.”

You shrunk into the pillows, turning to face him. He nestled against his own pillow, holding your gaze and giving you a small grin. His hair had grown shaggy at the ends, sticking up behind his ears and curling at the base of his neck. You lifted a hand to scratch at the patchy beard covering his jaw, biting your lip as you navigated a response in your head.

“No, I haven’t thought about it,” you exhaled. “Okay, maybe I have once or twice. Fuck—I don’t know. Not in a fuck him and leave you type of way.”

“You know I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” Frankie replied. “Fuck him, I mean.”

“What?” You balked, eyes growing wide.

He only shrugged his shoulders, shifting close to you in the bed.

“He’s my best friend. I’d trust him with you.”

“You’re not seriously telling me right now you want me to sleep with Benny.”

“I’m not telling you to do it,” Frankie argued. “Just saying, if you ever want to explore it, tell me. I’m sure he’s thought about it, too.”

Your face burned bright red at the thought of Benny fantasizing about you. There was no way. Frankie was messing with you.

“None of this bothers you?” You questioned.

Frankie laughed softly, hooking an arm around your leg and guiding it over his hip. You shuffled your body closer until you were both a breath apart. 

“Fuck no, baby,” he smirked, his pupils growing bigger. “Getting to see one of best friends fuck you would probably only turn me on more.”

You felt him growing harder against you, and you reached a hand down to palm his cock through his pajama bottoms. Frankie let out a soft whine, bucking his hips into your hand.

“Would you just sit back and watch?” You quirked an eyebrow. 

“I’d do whatever you want.”

Your fingers danced up his pants, teasing his waistband. You gave him a mischievous grin as you trailed lower until your hand wrapped around his cock. He groaned at your touch, his eyes rolling back.

“What if I want both of you?” You asked, pumping him slowly. “At the same time?”

Something carnal flashed across his features, and he crawled on top of you, running his mouth up your neck. You arched into him, using both hands to pull down his pants. Frankie did the same to you, tugging your sleep shorts down your legs and exploring the wetness collecting between your inner thighs.

“Pretty girl wants to get tag-teamed?” He teased. “Yeah, I can make that happen.”

You gasped at his words and let him fuck you mercilessly the rest of the night. 

You had zero clue what Frankie had told Benny, but later that week, you were situated on the couch between their warm bodies, watching some action movie. Benny kept a respectable distance while Frankie’s hand remained on your thigh, drawing slow circles over your bare skin. You were wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of soft sleep shorts, your nerves buzzing through your body. 

You barely had the capacity to pay attention to the movie, your eyes shifting between both of the men sitting on either side of you. Frankie leaned over after a while, his breath hot against your neck.

“You call the shots, pretty girl. Whatever you wanna do, it’s your choice,” he muttered into your ear.

You let out a small gasp, glancing over at Benny. He was sitting relaxed against the couch; his legs spread open and muscular arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes trailed up his thick neck, studying his tensed jaw covered in days-old stubble and blue eyes that remained focused on the screen. You weren’t the shy type, but initiating this type of situation was way out of your comfort zone.

“Benny?” You whispered.

His gaze slid to you, his pupils already dilated.

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice deep as he said your name.

You sucked in a breath, mustering the courage to take it to the next step. 

“Kiss me,” you demanded, though it sounded a bit sheepish.

He flicked his gaze to Frankie, then back to you. Reaching a hand up to tangle in your hair, he reeled you in for a hungry kiss. You whimpered at the feel of his mouth against yours, his approach far rougher than what you were used to with Frankie. His tongue intertwined with yours as he coaxed your mouth open wider, his other hand sliding up your thigh. 

Frankie’s mouth connected with the other side of your neck, sucking marks into your flushed skin as you let out another helpless whine.

“Fuck,” Benny panted, guiding your head toward Frankie.

Frankie was quick to capture your mouth, his tongue tracing the saliva still lingering on your lips. You gasped as Benny’s mouth trailed up your neck, drawing his tongue over the erratic pulse under your jaw. 

“This what you want, baby?” Frankie asked before sinking his teeth into the plush skin of your bottom lip.

You gave him an eager nod of your head, and he brought his hand up to tilt your head, both of their mouths now hot and wet against either side of your throat. The throbbing between your thighs grew painful, and you squirmed against their roaming hands; Benny’s hand crawled up to cup your breast, Frankie’s hand teasing your aching clit over your shorts.

“Jesus Christ,” you moaned, letting your head fall back against the couch. 

“Call the shots, pretty girl,” Frankie ordered. 

You bucked your hips against his hand, searching for any form of friction to alleviate the pressure building inside your core. Benny tugged at the t-shirt covering your torso, his breath going ragged as he discovered you bare beneath the soft cotton.

His head dipped down to capture your pebbled nipple between his teeth, grinding them against your skin until you cried out from the pleasure mixing with pain. Oh, Benny was rough, and it only made you ache for more of his touch.

You glanced down at the same time his gaze lifted to yours, a grin tugging at his lips as he realized how much you liked it. Frankie, meanwhile, was working at sipping his fingers between your wet folds, sinking two fingers knuckle deep. 

“Shit,” you hissed through clenched teeth. Frankie’s fingers worked fast inside you; he knew what to do to make you completely fall apart.

But now you had another man working at you in tandem, Benny’s mouth still ravaging your breast. Your fingers tangled into his hair, your nails raking over his scalp. He let out a groan of approval, rewarding you with another bite of his teeth around your nipple.

“Feels…so fucking good…” You whispered to both men.

Frankie angled his hand so that he could push his fingers deeper, curling them against the spongy spot inside you. Searing heat coursed through your veins with each movement of his fingers, your breath coming out short and pained.

A dangerous idea floated through the fog inside your brain, and you wondered how far you could push it at the expense of your wanton needs. Tugging Benny’s hair, he released your nipple with a gentle pop and moved his lips back to yours. You sucked his bottom lip in between your teeth before diving your tongue into his mouth. Benny let out a shallow exhale, letting you steer the kiss in whatever direction you wanted. 

“Benny,” you whined. “I want your tongue inside me.”

He cursed under his breath and looked over at Frankie, who was still working you closer to the edge. Frankie’s eyes lifted to meet yours, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. He pulled his fingers from you, lifting them to your mouth.

“Clean them, pretty girl,” he ordered. 

You wrapped your mouth around his thick fingers, the salty, sweet taste of your arousal coating your tongue. You pulled your head back and looked at Benny with a lifted brow.

“Wanna taste?” You asked with a coy smile.

You expected him to pull you in for a kiss, to taste it from your mouth, but your breath stalled as you watched him grip Frankie’s wrist and guide his fingers into his mouth. Your jaw dropped open as Benny sucked on Frankie’s fingers with fervency, his eyes locked on your boyfriend. This was new. Frankie grunted as Benny dragged his tongue over the pads of his fingers, finally releasing them and settling back into the couch.

“Come here, baby,” Frankie said, shuffling his body back against one side of the couch.

He maneuvered you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest. Through heavy lids, you watched Benny tear away his shirt and put his defined abs on display. You and Frankie had been to a few of his boxing matches, and you were more than familiar with the toned figure he hid under his basic t-shirts. Your eyes roamed down his torso, studying the way his chest hair flourished between his sternum and trailed down his abdomen. You involuntarily wet your lips at the sight, wanting to take your tongue and trace every flexed muscle on his body.

“Spread your legs for me, babygirl,” Benny instructed. Hearing him call you babygirl had your mind reeling. 

You let your legs fall open and watched as Benny shuffled back to situate himself between your thighs. Frankie’s hands groped and squeezed your breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples until you gasped at the stinging pain. You tilted your head back, arching upward to meet his lips. Frankie responded with a sloppy kiss, his nose brushing over yours at the same time Benny’s tongue flicked over your aching clit.

“Fuck!” You cried, the word muffled in Frankie’s mouth.

Frankie let out a low chuckle and intertwined his fingers through the tendrils of your hair, forcing you to look down at Benny.

“Watch him while he tongue fucks you, baby,” Frankie commanded. 

Your breath hitched, and Benny took that as his opportunity to dive his tongue deep inside you. Sparks of pleasure erupted behind your eyes, and it took all your strength to keep your focus on him as he worked his tongue deeper. His eyes shot up to yours, the pale blue of his irises swallowed by his pupils. 

“Do you like that pretty girl?” Frankie crooned in your ear. “You enjoy having us both giving you all this attention?”

“Yes,” you panted, your chest rising and falling steadily as warmth spread through your stomach.

“Tell Benny how much you like it.”

Your eyes rolled back as Benny traced over your wet folds with his tongue, the heat of his mouth against your cunt sending you into a spiral. 

“I—.” You choked on your words as Benny’s lips suctioned around your clit, his tongue sending sharp rhythmic flicks across the aching bundle of nerves.

“Tell him,” Frankie growled, his hand wrapping around your throat.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, Benny,” you gasped. “Please don’t stop… Please. Keep doing that, I’m so fucking close.”

Your words were melding together, a jumble of incoherent mumbling and humiliating whimpers. Frankie’s hand squeezed your throat tighter, restricting your breathing as Benny coaxed your orgasm closer to the surface. With Frankie’s hand around your neck and Benny’s tongue assailing your cunt, the overstimulation began to spread through your veins. 

“I know you’re close, pretty girl,” Frankie whispered in your ear. “I can feel how tense you are. Let it go, baby. Cum for us.”

His words sent the heavens crashing down around you, and your body seized upwards as your orgasm ignited a fire that raged under your skin. Benny lapped at the arousal pooling out of you, humming in satisfaction as a strangled cry left your lips. 

“Doesn’t my girl taste good, Benny?” Frankie murmured, releasing his grip on your throat.

“Fucking perfect,” Benny grinned.

You leaned your head back against Frankie’s chest, seeing his big brown eyes sparkle with lust. 

“Frankie, baby,” you whispered. “Why don’t you have a taste, too?”

Frankie started to shift you off his lap, but you pressed yourself further into his chest, leaving him looking at you confused. You glanced down at Benny and gave a subtle lift of your chin as if to silently coax him from between your thighs. He followed your lead, crawling up your body until he hovered over you and leaned in close. He braced himself against the couch with one arm while snaking the other around Frankie’s neck. You careened your neck to watch as their mouth collided, Frankie’s aquiline nose smashing against Benny’s cheek for a frenzied kiss. Frankie submitted to Benny’s control, whimpering as their tongues danced together. Your jaw went slack as you watched your boyfriend passionately kiss his best friend; oh, you fucking loved this.

Benny tore away from Frankie’s lips, bending down to trail his lips over your jaw and neck. 

“I think your man wants some attention, babygirl,” he muttered against your warm skin.

“I think so, too,” you agreed, breathless.

Both men maneuvered off the couch, taking their time to undress, while you sat back and admired both of their naked bodies. Frankie was soft in all the right areas, his dark chest hair spread across his broad torso and trailing down over the soft pudge of his stomach. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, already glistening with precum as it leaked from the tip. Your eyes shifted over to Benny, your eyes growing wide at the length of his hardened cock. While Frankie’s cock was sizable in girth, Benny made up for it with length, and the thought of his cock deep inside you only spurred you closer to another orgasm. You needed one of them to fuck you, or else you’d go crazy.

“Baby,” you whined, shuffling your body up on the couch.

Frankie gave you a smirk, the creases in the corner of his eyes appearing as he looked down on you. You snaked a hand down your navel, your fingers slipping between the wet folds as you sought out some sort of relief from the throbbing need inside you. 

Benny moved around the side of the couch, his strong hands hooking under your shoulders and dragging you back until your head hung over the arm of the couch. Upside down, you stared up at his cock as it hovered over your face. You wet your lips at the sight of it, waiting for him to inch closer. Gliding a hand over your strained neck, his fingers squeezed the right above the base of it.

“I wanna feel my cock right here, babygirl,” Benny said. “You gonna show me you can take it?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

You dropped your jaw open, your tongue darting out as you waited for him to step forward. Frankie’s body weight dropped on the couch above you, his hands lifting your legs onto his shoulder. As your calves settled onto his broad shoulders, Frankie lined himself up with your entrance. In one quick thrust, Frankie bottomed out, and you let out a raspy moan. Before you had a chance to make another sound, Benny slid his cock into your mouth, your tongue dragging against the veins along the length. You sputtered around him as he drove deeper down your throat, his fingers still massaging your neck with each shallow thrust. 

Frankie’s thrusts grew harder, and your muffled cries were silenced as Benny continued snapping his hips forward into your mouth. 

“Ain’t she so pretty like this?” Frankie grunted through each drive of his cock.

“So fucking pretty,” Benny huffed. You swallowed around him, forcing him to choke on his words. “She’s taking our cocks so well. Her mouth feels so fucking good.”

You keened at their words, arousal blooming deep within your stomach as they spoke. They were using your body any way they wanted, and you were desperate for their praise. 

“You enjoy getting used like this, baby?” Frankie asked, his voice low and strained. 

You couldn’t respond as Benny plunged his cock further down your throat, your jaw straining to take his length deeper. You could feel the tears cascading down your temples, your breath forced out of your nose as you struggled under his hold. 

“Aw, pretty girl can’t talk?” Frankie taunted. 

Frankie lifted your ass off the couch, his warm hands squeezing the supple skin as you began assaulting you with unforgiving thrusts. Your cunt clenched around his cock, sucking him in deeper until the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. You wailed a helpless cry, saliva dripping over Benny’s cock and down your cheeks. 

Your eyes blurred as your climax grew into an inferno inside your stomach. Each thrust on either side of your body plummeted your orgasm closer and closer to the surface, your heartbeat thrumming erratically in your ears. Benny hunched over your body, his hands massaging your breasts, his fingers pinching around your nipples. You arched off the couch, and Frankie kept his grip tight on your hips as he continued railing into you.

“Gonna be a good girl and cum for us, baby?” Frankie crooned.

“Mmmph.” 

You couldn’t speak. You could barely make a coherent noise as your orgasm ignited inside of you, leaving you paralyzed—suspended between the bodies of two men that continued to wreck you completely as you came undone. 

“Such a good fucking girl,” Frankie praised.

“Think she deserves a reward?” Benny questioned, drawing his cock from your mouth.

You heaved in lung-fulls of air, drool still dripping down your face. Benny crouched behind you, his hand fisting your hair to pull your face forward toward Frankie. Frankie’s dark eyes met yours, and he pounded deeper into you, your cries turning into humiliating whimpers.

“You want Frankie to cum inside you, babygirl?” Benny whispered, his tongue tracing along the shell of your ear.

“Y—yes,” you wailed brokenly. “Please, Frankie. Need your cum.”

Frankie’s face scrunched up with concentration as he changed the tempo of his thrusts; they were slower and more powerful. Benny’s grip on your hair remained firm, not allowing you to look anywhere but at Frankie. His tousled dark curls stuck to his forehead with sweat, his jaw clenched as he forcibly thrust into you in one final time. With a carnal groan, Frankie emptied himself inside you, slumping onto your chest with labored breaths. 

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie groaned. 

Benny unwound his fingers from the tendrils of your hair, peppering your cheek and neck with kisses. Frankie lifted his head to look at Benny, and you could faintly see a smirk teasing the corner of his hips.

“I think she can take a bit more. What do you say, Benny?” Frankie grinned.

“I wanna know how good that pussy feels. You gonna let me fill you up, too?” Benny asked, his teeth grazing your neck.

“God, yes,” you exhaled.

Frankie climbed off your body and maneuvered you onto all fours. Your legs wobbled against the cushions, Frankie’s cum slowly leaking from your sore cunt. Benny made his way around the couch, climbing behind your shaking body. Frankie took his spot in front of you, his large hands cupping your face and wiping away the excess saliva that still coated your cheeks and nose.

“Look at the mess you made, pretty girl,” Frankie mumbled, his eyes dancing over you ravenously. 

He leaned in to kiss you, drawing his tongue over your wet lips. You moaned into his open mouth, your body tensing up with anticipation as Benny coated the head of his cock with the wetness leaking from your entrance. 

“Eyes on me, baby,” Frankie ordered, pulling away from your mouth. “I wanna watch you while Benny ruins that perfect pussy.”

That was all Benny needed to hear before he broke you up, the stretch of your cunt around his cock blindingly painful for the first few seconds. Your mouth fell open as his hips pressed against your ass, every glorious inch of him stretching you wide open. A choked gasp fell from your lips as Frankie held your focus, his brown eyes watching with fervid attention. 

“Benny,” Frankie said, never breaking away from your eyes. “Fuck her hard.”

Benny replied with a forceful snap of his hips that sent your body colliding with the couch. You screamed out at the savage pace he set, each connection of his hips against yours sending you into a frenzy of whimpers and sobs.

“So fucking tight and perfect,” Benny huffed between each drive of his cock. “Can’t believe you’ve been keeping her to yourself.”

“She’s all mine, Benny,” Frankie reminded him. “But I think she enjoys being shared.”

You nodded vigorously, flames licking up your nerves as Benny steered you closer to another orgasm. Your nails dug into the cushions, half-moon indentations left in their wake. 

“I want you both,” you panted. “Like this.”

“Yeah, babygirl?” Benny exhaled, bending his body over yours to kiss up your spine.

Frankie dragged you in for a long kiss, a moan exhaling from his mouth into yours. You were drunk on their touch, each hand roaming your body, every kiss, every lust-filled word. You couldn’t get enough.

“Cum inside me, Benny,” you pleaded. 

Benny’s arm braced around your torso, pulling you up until your back was flush with his chest. Frankie climbed over the arm of the sofa, his hands sweeping back the hair from your face. Benny brought his free hand up to Frankie, tugging at his curls until he shuffled closer. Frankie tilted his chin up and met Benny’s lips, their kisses slow and impassioned. Both of their body’s pressed harder against yours, Benny’s cock sliding in and out of you slowly, his thrusts shallow and short. You licked a path up Frankie’s neck, startling a gasp from him as Benny deepened their kiss.

The muscles in Benny’s arms flexed around your chest, his hips snapping hard one last time before his release was painting your insides. You were so fucking full of them both, your body coursing with adrenaline and pleasure. Benny slipped out of you, breaking away from Frankie’s lips and falling back against the couch. 

“Come here, babygirl,” Benny urged, outstretching his arms.

You glanced at Frankie for permission—which was comical as the mixture of their cum leaked down your inner thighs. Frankie gave you a soft smile, peking your lips before guiding you down onto the couch. 

Benny wound his arms around your trembling body, pressing a light kiss on the crown of your head, while Frankie settled against your body on the other side. You nestled into the warmth of their bodies, your eyes drifting shut from exhaustion.

“This was nice,” you hummed, giggling softly. 

“You wanna do it again?” Frankie chuckled, kissing your shoulder.

“Maybe not right now,” you groaned.

The soreness between your legs throbbed violently, and every muscle in your body tense and stiffened. You stretched out between them, feeling both men’s heartbeats pounding against your body.

“I love you, baby,” Frankie muttered into your skin.

“I love you, too,” you exhaled.

Lifting your chin to look at Benny, you watched him eye Frankie knowingly. You could see the emotions swimming in his blue eyes, his lips parted and swollen.

“You love him, too,” you commented.

“Yeah, maybe I do,” Benny said absentmindedly.

Benny’s gaze slid down to you, and you saw it in his eyes. The passion between them, the cohesiveness of their movements with you; it was all right there. You always thought Benny loved Frankie like a brother, but maybe there was something more. You weren’t jealous; you were far from it. You wanted them both, maybe in different ways, but still… you wanted them.

“Would you do this again?” You asked, partially to both of them.

“Absolutely,” Frankie said, at the same time Benny said, “In a heartbeat.”

“Stay the night with us, Benny,” you offered. 

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” Benny sighed.

[silentglassbreak]

an idea for a fluffy blurb? you've been dating Noah for a few months and he finally gets the courage to say "I love you" 🥺

Oh my loooooove! I think this would be the cutest shit everrrrrrr.

Imagine, right? You and Noah met, maybe somewhere totally normal? At a bookstore or a movie theater? Since we know the man likes to see movies alone?

It’s not always concert sightings or music-related.

Cause Noah, under all the talent and fame, is a normal guy! He has normal wants and needs…and nerves.

He had the hardest time introducing himself, so you had to. You had noticed him staring, an unsure smirk on his lips, and decided…hey, maybe you should give it a shot? Maybe the cute boy with the boba brown eyes was worth talking to?

Oh…he was.

And he struggled to make the first move. It had taken four dates, three meals, two movies, and a shared bowl of ice cream before you finally had to ask, “Are you planning on kissing me? Or did I read this all wrong?”

And when he did…the sparks that erupted put the Disneyland finale show to an absolute shame.

Needless to say, Noah didn’t know how to initiate, so sex took…longer than you would’ve liked. You told yourself you’d hold out. You’d wait until he grew the nerve. If he wasn’t ready to take that step, you should respect that right?

But you knew he wanted it. You could see the hunger in his eyes. The angle of his stares. The way he licked his lips when you borrowed his t-shirts or wore your swimsuit in front of him. His hand always lingered a little on your waist, and you silently begged him to just take it.

But…to your dismay…three long, dry weeks will make a girl desperate. So you begrudgingly caved, and jumped him one night while you both spent hours watching movie after movie on his couch.

He invited you in with open arms, and the experience was lethal. You were hooked. He was never getting rid of you.

So that’s how you ended up six months in, standing on Pier 49 in San Francisco, smiling at the seals, with Noah’s arms around you, chatting with Folio about fish and whatever else.

So many soft touches, passionate kisses, longing stares.

But still…no mention of that one word.

You felt it. You felt it long ago. Did he?

Why wouldn’t he say it? Noah clearly had trust and commitment issues, you had learned. But he could’ve left ages ago. He had a sparkling career, money, looks that could kill. He could have any woman he wanted.

The man bled confidence and tenacity…until it came to you.

With you, he was timid and shy, carefully calculating words. He never said anything he didn’t mean or could be misunderstood.

So, he hadn’t said it out loud for a reason, then. You had decided it just had to be that he didn’t feel that way toward you. And that made your sides split, and your heart sink every time you thought about it.

It would break you when Noah decided to finally move on. Find something that he did feel that way about.

You put it out of your head, for now. At least you had today.

“Ready?” His voice was low in your ear, and you turned, swallowing the lump forming in your throat.

“Sure am.”

You rode the ferry off to Alcatraz Island for the prison tour. When he asked what all you wanted to do on their off day in the city, all you could think about was seeing it up close. He vowed to take you there.

The tour was mesmerizing, taking you through the cell blocks that still stood, getting to hear the insane history of the once-feared penitentiary.

The tour group took you out through the warden’s office and gave a ten-minute break before they began heading down the hill. You approached the rail near the edge of the island, where just below the rocks striated up out of the water at least twenty feet down. The water of the Pacific splashed angrily against the stones, the cool spray barely reaching your face.

As he always did, Noah circled his arms around your body, his face resting in the crook of your neck before his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

You smiled, staring off at San Francisco’s skyscrapers in the distance. “Thank you for bringing me here. I’ve always wanted to see this.”

His pressed his nose against your cheek, and you could feel him smiling against you. “Of course.”

Your eyes scanned the deep gray waters below. “Can you believe men tried to escape by swimming through that?”

“Yeah, that’s crazy.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

He hummed, head lifting to gaze down at the raging waves.

“Well, I don’t know.” You listened to his voice as he continued to stare at the ocean. “I read on one of the plaques in there that one of the escapees? He did it because his wife was just across the bay waiting for him. She was pregnant with his kid, and he swore he’d see them.” He sighed heavy, “He was doing life for killing a man.”

You followed his eyes to the sharp rocks below. “Wow. That’s awful.”

He shrugged. “Is it? When he was caught, he told the police he would do anything to see the woman he loved.”

You nodded, humming. “I mean, I guess? It’s still insane.”

“Yeah, it is.” His eyes looked up, glancing over to look at your face. You didn’t see this, eyes still trained on the water. “But I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.”

This made you look at him. “You would?”

His eyes were so bright, but his face looked unsure. That same shy smirk pulling at his lips that you’ve come to recognize.

“If I was here, and you were on the other side of that bay,” His arm lifted to point across the water, your eyes following. “I’d jump in this water a thousand times over to get to you.”

Your heart stopped, your knuckles turning white where they clutched the railing.

“You’d do that?”

His hands moved you, turning your body so you stood facing him. “For the woman I love?” He flashed his teeth then, all sense of uncertainty dissolved.

“I’d do whatever it takes.”

IDK I GOT CARRIED AWAY BABE SORRY.

[umbrella-show]

Fish Inside A Birdcage: Rule #4

Aimlessly wandering through the corridors of the Dark Citadel was a habit of yours. Through the night, whenever you couldn’t sleep, and through the day you roamed throughout the stronghold. 

You have every single detail memorized, every banner, every dark chocolate tile, every small detail that could easily be missed to the common eye. 

As repetitive as your technique to pass the time was, it was all you had. These walls were all you’ve known. 

It wasn’t always like that, but you can’t remember when it wasn’t. You were stuck here. You had no clue what happened outside of the kingdom. The citadel had no windows for you to see.

The only idea you could get of the outside world was from Dark Cacao himself. When he had time to spare with you, you would always ask him what was happening in the kingdom. While he gave you little insight of what affairs were happening outside the citadel, he did have plenty of stories about the dangers that lurked throughout. It was mostly what he talked about whenever you’d ask about the outside world.

And you believed him. You believed his every word. 

You didn’t have a reason to go outside. It was safe here. Safe from the monsters and ones that want to hurt you. 

As much as you are a little curious about the outside world, all you’ve heard about the outside world was how dangerous it was. You only have Dark Cacao to inform you about the world. To guide you through this life. He’s the only one you could go to for any type of information. 

So, you’ll stay in this stronghold, faithfully by his side.

“You should be in bed, child.”

Dark Cacao’s voice was stern, yet held a hint of warmth as he lightly scolded you. You silently walked behind him, your head hung low. You looked down at the deep purple carpet under your feet that silenced your footsteps, observing the patterns woven delicately into the silk.

His scolding fell deaf to your ears. After all, you had heard it a million times before. You didn’t really care too much about getting proper sleep during the night. You just wanted to move around. To explore the Citadel. Even if you have every detail burned into your memory with how much you do this. Even if, everytime, nothing’s different.

“I have told you, I do not like this sleepwalking habit of yours. You need proper rest.”

You slowly nodded your head as you felt Dark Cacao’s expectant gaze on you. You didn’t look up at him, preferring to keep your head pointed towards the floor.

“Are you listening, child?”

You hummed softly in affirmation as the banners on the walls suddenly caught your attention. You aimlessly continued to walk forward before you bumped into Dark Cacao’s back. He had stopped walking and was peering at you over his shoulder. You stumbled back a little before staring up at him. You tried to read his expression, to try and get some sort of hint of what he was feeling. However, you couldn't find anything. His hardened face gazed back at you, unwavering as he turned around. 

You broke eye contact and looked to the ground instead, his hard gaze causing your chest to feel heavy with guilt. You weren’t sure whether it was guilt for continuing your habit he has explicitly told you to stop, or for not being able to keep eye contact with him at all. You weren’t really sure why you were feeling this way in the first place. You rarely felt guilty about disobeying his orders. It’s not like you could do much but sleep, eat, and walk while being practically caged in the bastion.

You felt his hand hook under your chin and raise your head for your eyes to meet his. His cold eyes bore into yours although you could have sworn you saw his eyes soften as he glanced at your face. You only blankly stared up at him, the feeling of guilt seeping deeper into your chest. You couldn't tell if he noticed or not, his face unwavering.

“Why do you disobey me? I only want you to get proper sleep yet you never seem to stay in bed.”

“I-I’m just not tired.” 

You softly responded, frowning slightly. Your response only caused Dark Cacao to sigh. His hand left your chin and instead grasped yours. He gently began to pull you towards the direction of your bedroom, keeping you in sight. You were surprised by the sudden touch. Dark Cacao never really showed much affection to you, other than the rare occurring hugs he gave you when you were feeling sad.

Nevertheless, you followed him. His hand holding yours felt comforting. You pressed closer against his arm and held his hand with both of your own. He seemed to be surprisingly fine with this. He even wrapped his arm gently around your shoulder, pulling you against his side. You closed your eyes and leaned against him, feeling his footsteps slow to allow you to comfortably keep up. 

“Let's get you back to bed.”

You raised no objections and only let out a low hum. This time, you would listen to his orders and do as he said. You would only continue to hope tomorrow would have something more eventful in store for you. You were only hoping however, but it was the least you could do. It’s not like you could ever leave anyways.

(Idk what this really was I kinda just based some of this fic off a song.)

[olailamajnoon]

Selina walked onto the Watchtower along with Bruce. Zatanna "accidentally" bumped into the two. She looked up at Selina and blinked. "Oh, you're Bruce's wife!"

Selina appeared slightly taken aback, one eyebrow unfurling. "...no."

Zatanna went on cheerily, winking at Bruce with malicious intent. "Well, he takes every opportunity to call you his wife. He's like...I'm gonna marry her anyway, so might as well call her that."

Selina gave Bruce the side-eye. "Yeah, that definitely sounds like him." Her voice was dry.

"If you ever decide to marry this lummox," went on Zatanna, "remember to ask me for my list of Bruce's sixteen greatest flaws."

Selina grinned. "Thanks, but I think I know them."

"No," said Zatanna seriously, chewing her magic gum. "You only know the first nine." Zatanna sat down at the monitor console and hung upside down on the chair. "He eats with his mouth open sometimes. And he can't handle raw shrimp. It gives him...diarrhea."

Selina snorted. "How do you know this." She couldn't hide her amusement.

"We were trapped on an ocean planet for a week, and all we had to eat was raw fish. Bruce had...severe digestive problems. Clark had to cook the meat with his eyeballs." Zatanna was seemingly relishing telling the story, as much as Bruce gave her the death-glare.

"Well, I won't take him out for sushi anytime then," said Selina.

"Or...you could," said Zatanna, waggling her eyebrows. "Take him someplace without a bathroom, and watch him. He can't say no to a challenge, his ego will get in the way."

Bruce's glare at Zatanna could have melted steel as she slurped her Slurpie. Selina was trying and failing to control hiccupy laughter. "That sounds like an...idea."

Zatanna grinned from ear to ear. "You know, I like you, Catwoman. Maybe we will make good friends."

Selina hooked her right arm through Bruce's. "I'm un-uninviting you to our wedding."

Zatanna sat up. "Wait! I was...uninvited?"

"You turned Bruce's chair into mist and he sat on it and fell on his ass." Selina giggled childishly. It sounded like a kitten gurgling.

"Selina..." Bruce warned.

"...so he got upset," Selina finished.

Zatanna was smirking. "Yeah, that's always funny."

"I'm glad you two ladies are bonding," said Bruce, unamused. "But if you will excuse me, I need to work."

Selina blew him a kiss as he disentangled himself and walked away. Then she leaned closer to Zatanna. "Do you have any idea what he's like when he gets angry?"

Zatanna looked up through innocent eyes. "no...?"

"The sex," said Selina, "is so great. He gets rough, just the way I like it." She breathed in. "Any ideas how to make him just mad enough to get him to do that?"

Zatanna grinned. "Any ideas? I've got an entire encyclopedia! I've written the book on twirling Bruce round my pinkie." She flicked her hair. "What do you wanna know?"

Selina sat beside her, and propped her feet up on the console. "Let's start with everything."

[anglbby444]

Rafe x fem!reader

Warnings ; p n v sex, fingering, soft!rafe, assumed unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it besties), one use of Y/N

Her ears perked up as she heard the slight rattle of the doorknob. To her pleasure, Rafe came strutting through the door, carrying a big bag of fishing gear he had been given from his father. A contagious smile crept onto his face he placed down the extremely heavy bag, trying to be as quiet as possible. “Jesus, this bag is so heavy.” He huffed out with a laugh. She looked at him with a smile.

He ran his hands through his hair as he waddled over to the couch, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of her head. She tilted her head back so she could kiss his lips in a quick peck. He stood there for a moment, standing over her, petting her head that was currently resting against his waist. “Cmere Rafe, I wanna cuddle.”

She shuffled her body sideways, so she’d be laying across the couch with her head resting against the arm of the couch. Rafe grinned as he walked over to lean against the arm of the couch, crawling on top of the cushions, eventually finding himself on top of her. He nestled his face into her neck, placing soft kisses on the skin. “Mmm, you taste like cake.” He chuckled.

He peppered a few more kisses on her neck before nuzzling his face into the crevice between her ear and neck. His hands found their way to her waist again, gently sinking in to the flesh. Y/N let out a content sigh as the boy hummed happily, smiling into her skin. "Missed me today, huh baby?” Her voice was soft as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Rafe let out a noise of agreement, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. The sensation caused her to shift a little bit, chuckling to herself. "Damn right I did. You're all I could think about all day. All that stupid fishing shit my dad asked me to help him with, he knows I don't give a fuck about the damn fish." He grumbled into her skin, causing her to smile as her hands combed along his short hair.

"Yeah, I get it. Fishing isn't exactly your forte." She retorted with a cheeky grin, his head popping up in response to her playful comment. "Hey, you little shit, at least I can put a worm on the hook." She gave him a fake look of offense, softly tapping the back of his head. "Alright alright, you got me there." They both looked at each other and laughed for a minute, relishing in the company of the other. He looked at her with a sideways smile, the smile that he only gives to her. Nobody else. Just her. She was his girl, and she didn't mind it one bit. "Fuck, you are so beautiful..."

His voice and his heartbeat were the only two things she could hear at that moment, but in her defense, thats all she wanted to hear. It's all she ever wanted to hear. He nudged his nose against her jaw, signaling that he wanted her to expose her neck a bit more. And that she did. With a content sigh, her hands still petting his head, she craned her neck slightly to give him more access to the soft, yet sensitive skin. His lips attached to the nape of her neck, then lifting, and then attaching again in a continuous cycle. She felt his teeth gently nip at the spot of skin that connects her neck to her ear, his mouth curling up into a slight smile at her reaction. "R-Rafe...are you trying to get me excited or something?" She huffed, fingers still petting the top of his head.

"What's it look like i'm trying to do, baby?" He drawled out, continuing to kiss the spot he just bit. She tried to buck her hips up to get some form of friction as she felt his left hand trail down her body once more, landing on the same patch of skin on her hip he was just holding. He chuckled at her reaction. "Seems like its workin', huh?" That little shit.

Well, if he's gonna play games, so will she. She slowly slithered her hand down his waist, her fingers ever so slightly grazing against his crotch. The bulge forming on the light brown kahki pants was starting to grow more, bringing a smile to both their faces. Suddenly, Rafe firmly, but gently enough as to not hurt her, used his hands to grab her wrists and pin them to her sides. "You little brat, you think you can try and turn the tables on me, hm?" His strong grip on her wrist made her feel completely powerless, but also comfortable. She knew he would never hurt her. Never in a million years would he ever think about hurting his sweet girl.

The look on his face was a look only she knew. It was a look of hunger. "Do you wanna take this to the bedroom, honey?" He leaned down towards her ear, lips ever so slightly grazing against the outer shell as he whispered. She gave him those eyes that made him know exactly what she wanted. He whispered again, a quick "Ok", and scooped her up bridal style. She giggled the whole time as he carried her to his bedroom, that just to happen to have the best view of the water on the island.

He gracefully placed her down onto the bed, that was thankfully covered in the softest quilt-style sewn blanket she had ever felt. She gawked at his arms as he yanked his shirt off, his tan skin almost glistening in the sunset. He plopped down next to her, his pointer finger and thumb playing with the hem of his shirt, that she happen to be wearing that day. His eyes trailed down from her eyes, all the way down to wear the shirt ends. He felt a shiver run up his spine when he realized she wasn't wearing any panties underneath his shirt. "Fuck...you naughty girl.."

She giggled at his shocked expression. "I wanted to surprise you, since I knew you were gonna be doing something you hate having to do today.." She muttered out, almost sounding shy, quite the contrary to how she was acting just a few moment ago. He could've sworn he felt his dick twitch at her words. "Jesus, how'd I get so lucky with a girl like you?" He stammered out his words, hands grabbing onto her hips and bringing her on top of his waist as he attached his lips to hers with a passionate hunger. "Just because you're on top, dosen't mean you're in charge. Just remember that." He exclaimed between the kisses, feeling her smile against his lips. "Wasn't counting on it." She huffed out between a quick breath.

"Can I take the shirt off, please?" He brushed a stray strand of hair off of her forehead, eyes locked on her gorgeous, persperation freckled face. She nodded at his request, immiedntly feeling his hands pull the shirt up and off her chest. "Fuck...look at these tits...so beautiful." He breathed out, flipping her over and leaning down once more to attach his lips to her right nipple as he tossed the t-shirt she was wearing over his head and onto the floor. "R-Rafey..feels so good..." She mewled out, her own hand attempting to tug at his pants. In response to this, he playfully smacked her hand. "What did I say about me being in control, hm?"

She scrunched her nose in response to his reprimand, although not minding it one bit. "Atta girl.." He moaned as his tongue danced around the hardening nipple, relishing in her delicious moans she was making. In additon to him sucking her nipple, he trailed one of his hands down her body, eventually finding it's way between her thighs. He slightly trailed his fingers against her mound as he removed his lips from her breast with a pop sound, tsking while shaking his head. "Seems like someones wet already. Is this all for me?"

She bit her lip as she bucked her hips up against his fingers that were now teasing at her entrance, the middle finger curiously spreading the lips apart. "Mmm...look at this sweet pussy...looks so fucking delicious.." His middle finger softly started to toy with the sensitive nub in the middle, relishing in her moans once more. "P-please f-fuck me so good..." He looked at her with a smirk, playfully shaking his head. "Yeah? That's what you want? Me to fuck the shit out of you?" he groaned against her ear, his hot breath creating goosebumps on her skin. She eagerly nodded her head.

“Good girl, always being so clear about what she wants.” Rafe smiled as he rested his forehead against hers, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. His left hand cupped her cheek as his other hand pump his semi-erect cock a few times. The heavenly sounds coming from her lovers cock made her stomach twirl. “R-Rafe…please be careful..” She sounded almost worried, which broke Rafes heart. He nuzzled his nose to hers as he hooked her legs through his arms. “Shhh, don’t worry honey. I’m gonna be extra careful. Just for you.”

And he stuck to his word. He never broke eye contact as he was lining his cock up with her entrance, enjoying all the expressions his length was causing her to make. When he slid in about an inch, he began peppering kisses on her neck to distract her from the stinging pain. With every inch, her eyes squeezed shut. “There we go, almost all in now.” His forehead was still pressed against hers, smiling as he took her bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a gentle tug. Sounds of slapping skin echoed through the room as he began to pump his cock into her, burying his face into the supple skin of her neck. His hot breath brushed against her ear, soft moans turning into louder ones as he kept fucking her. “This pussy is all mine, babygirl. All fucking mine.”

[wehaveimagineshere]

Prompt: Artist Reader decides to give Astarion their sketchbook filled with sketches of him. Couple: Astarion/Reader

Frost actually gave me this prompt right as we opened up this blog. I knew I had to write it.

-Ren

~*~*~

"I'll be your mirror."

It had been a casual statement, handed forward with a small smirk and light words. It was taken casually, a fleeting kindness to be snatched by the night wind and forgotten.

The sketchbook being slipped into your small pack now speaks of a different tale, your fingers quickly but carefully tying the twine closed before sliding the strap over your chest. Glancing around, you spy your favorite vampire in front of one of the room's bookshelves, book in hand.

Hooking a thumb under the strap, you stride up, adopting an air of nonchalance. The rest of your fingers grip the leather as he looks up, a half smile bending his lips. "Well hello, darling." Tossing the book back on the shelf, he gives you his full attention. "What can I do for you?"

"Well," you start, trying your best to keep your fingers still, "I was hoping you'd follow me to the roof."

"The roof?" he echoes, eyebrows going up. "I don't believe we're allowed up there." His smile grows. "Which means we should definitely do it. I'm in."

The grin on your face almost hurts. "Let's go."

"One question." His eyes roam the room before tilting up, then back down to your own colored hues. "How are we getting up there?"

Pressing your lips together, your eyes dart away for a split second. "Aren't you the one good at getting into places you aren't suppose to?"

"Well yes, but. Hm." He holds up a hand, index finger half pointed and head slightly tilted. "Is this a challenge?"

You pause. "Yes?"

"Wait right here, darling. I'll be right back."

You turn and watch as he goes to his pack, rustling inside before drawing out whatever it was he was searching for. Then he walks to Karlach, who looks at him with confusion before her face bursts into a grin. Her axe is handed to him, her laugh boisterous as he tries - and fails - to hold it up. There's a bit more back and forth before Astarion physically huffs and comes back to you, tiefling in tow.

"So I hear you're breaking some rules?" is the first thing out of her mouth once you're in earshot.

A smile reaches your lips. "You could say that."

"Sweet. I'll help you guys get on the roof, follow me."

And so you do, out onto the veranda under the bright full moon. Karlach gestures for Astarion, who hands over rope, and she gets to work typing it onto her weapon. One of your eyebrows shoot up as she looks at the roof, bounces the axe a few times in her hand, and throws.

The sound of crunching wood meets your ears. Tugging onto the rope and grinning as the axe holds, Karlach sketches a bow. "Enjoy the stars. If you get caught, that's not my axe."

Astarion gestures to you. "Ladies first, as they say."

Karlach rolls her eyes and heads back inside, muttering, "Thank you, Karlach. You're very welcome, Astarion. Ugh."

You eye the rope warily. "How gentlemanly."

"This was your idea. Now go ahead, and don't worry, I'll consider catching you if you fall."

Huffing but unable to hide the smile, you make your way onto the roof with no issues. Settling onto the tiles, still slightly warm from the sun, you tug your pack onto your lap and look up.

While not as beautiful as they were on the Sword Coast, the stars still twinkle bright and fierce, the moon emphasizing their shine.

"You're not tired of the stars yet?" you hear Astarion ask, settling next to you.

"I don't think I ever will be," you respond, hugging the pack to your chest before turning to him. "That's not why we're here though." Drawing the strings open, you fish out the sketchbook and hesitantly hold it out.

His eyes drop to the book, noting the worn and dented leather, back to you, then back to the book. "What? Are these love poems? For me?"

"Just take it."

Grasping the book with gentle fingers, he settles it onto his lap and flips it open.

Your fingers twine together as his eyes lock onto the contents of the pages. His eyebrows furrow, and you feel your heart sink. "Am I suppose to know who this is?"

Oh. Glancing at him, you say quietly, "It's you."

His chest stills, fingers frozen above the pages.

So quiet, almost blending into the air, you hear him exhale, "What..."

"Turn the page."

So he does. And does again. And again. Each turn more slow, more careful, as his brain processes all he's seeing.

It's him, book in hand, face half in shadow. It's him, head on the owlbear cub's body, one knee up and fingers laced together over his stomach. It's him from behind, arms raised and to the side. It's him, a side countenance, hand on a hip. It's him, his face, the dips of his cheeks and the curve of his jaw, the arch of his brows and bend of his lips, the hair curling around his pointed ears and the nape of his neck.

It's him. On every page, a different angle, a different side of him.

He doesn't speak, barely even breathes, as he takes it all in. As his fingertips trace the panes of his face. Every line, every curve.

Chewing your bottom lip, you shift, unsure if you should break the stifling quiet but knowing you'll go mad if you don't. "I, uh. I said I'd be your mirror, so..."

His inhale is shaky. "You..." Pressing fingers to his eyes, he takes another rasping breath. "There is truly--" His voice hitches and he swallows. "There is truly no one like you."

"I'm glad you like it," you say quietly.

"Like it?" he echoes, hand falling from his face as his eyes snap back to the pages. "I love it."

Smiling gently, you scooch so your shoulders touch, reaching over to give a small, gentle peck to his cheek before slowly resting your head on his shoulder. "The entire book is filled."

He sniffs, a hand wiping across his eyes. "How can I ever..."

"Don't. I didn't do this so you'd pay me back. It's a gift, Astarion."

"A gift I will forever treasure." His head gently rests upon your own, eyes not once straying from the sketches. "Thank you."

You smile. "Always."

[14dayswithyou]

So I just played through the game for the first time and was hit with a terrible thought. In my game, I said that teo and I had had a “fling.” I then realized that Ren, like Teo, has tattoos. So that got me thinking.

What if Ren started getting tattoos because he saw what MC was doing with Teo? He was trying so hard to become everything MC wanted, only to find out that MC was just using Teo as “safe dick,” and didn’t actually care about the tattoos at all.

He may have found that he really likes tattoos, and so he designed them his own way. But there’s NO WAY that MC hooking up with a Big Tattoo Guy (multiple times, according to Teo) wouldn’t have effected his aesthetic at that time. So I wanted to ask, did he have those tattoos before MC met Teo? Or were they reactive?

✦゜ANSWERED: Canonically, Ren gave himself tattoos at a young age out of his own accord!! I spoke about it a year ago here, and very recently here.

Non-canonically (but something Ren would definitely do), is that he would take aspects from Teo's appearance if Angel was genuinely interested in him. Ren's entire shtick is mimicking Angel's hyper-fixations and turning himself into their ideal type — and if that happens to be Teo — then so be it. He'll take inspiration from the way he dresses, how he acts, and the tattoos he gets.

From a storyteller standpoint, however; Teo is supposed to be Ren's narrative foil! I spoke about this topic briefly in the Discord server, but they share a lot of similar characteristics (contrasting colour palette, conflicting personalities, two-tone hair, snake vs koi fish tattoos, 2 gold rings vs 2 gold earrings, etc.). So the tattoos were a deliberate choice!! However, they're not meant to signify that they're the same character or anything. It's just a way for me to kinda show (not tell) that despite two characters being "the same", they can be completely different as well.

But from and even more literal standpoint, Teo is also the direct derivative of 2017!Ren! In the very first version of 14DWY, Teo didn't even exist at all. But when remaking the game, I figured people wouldn't like Ren [with Teo's personality], so I changed him completely. I didn't want to completely scrap the "toxic playboy" character though, so I turned him into Teo and never looked back since

(I looked back once and now half the fandom are in love with him T_T /silly)

[bonefall]

it is healing to come onto this blog and see basic respect for diasbility after being in other corners of the fandom and reading the words “snowkit could never be a warrior because he wouldnt know what anything is. he wouldnt even know what a clan is because nobody could explain it to him” said in full seriousness

Im..... That statement is so ableist I cannot even imagine the worldview you'd need to have in order to come up with that.

They really think the only way anyone learns anything is through verbal-speaking-words-noises? No one has ever observed something before? Not even once?

This is beyond touching grass, this person just fell out of the fucking Jurassic Period when all they had was ferns and stegosaurs.

I just...

OH YES. I remember my first day of Society Lessons as a hearing person, where the everything was explained to me. Via Audiobook. FIRST they spoke and said, "you are standing on the ground." It was a life changing revelation, and the world began to spin.

But it did not stop.

THEN they said, "there are fingers on your hands." The sensation of flesh and bone crackling into existence is indescribable, but I did not yet know pain, until they told me, "that hurts." I began screaming immediately.

And yet... it continued.

They explained so much. Chairs. Tables. Walls. The sky. Frogs. Ionizing radiation. Breathing. I was told all of it, in one sitting, and only then did I understand. Only when my ears were bursting with normal hearing knowledges, did they begin... my final test.

A strange wall-chair-finger emerged from the sky-of-the-wall, stood on the ground several times, until it was in front of me. A second one came behind it, this one slimmer. The audiobook gave these things names;

Human. Father. Mother. Door. Walking. It was completely impossible to know what these things were until that very moment.

I watch a human dip a hook into water and produce a fish, and I recall my Society Lessons where they called that "fishing." I am decked in the face by a nefarious hooligan, and I have only the audiobook to thank when I know I have been "punched" by a "bad guy." It was only the magic of verbal-speaking-words-noise that made me understand that there are "other people" and that they "do stuff."

Sometimes, even, in "groups."

Before the Society Lessons Audiobook, I knew nothing. I was pure, innocent, uncorrupted by concepts such as "parents" and "door." I am grateful every day that there is no such concept as "being shown things" or "simple logical reasoning" or "looking."

Blessed be those amongst us who escape the horrors of the Society Lessons Audiobook. I pray that you never learn what anything is. Be free! Free as a bird, which also knows nothing and famously cannot learn. 🤗

DEAF/HOH FOLLOWERS I'm losing my mind do you want me to bump a 'Hearing Disabilities Herb Guide' to the top of my priorities? Something you can use to bludgeon whackadoodles like that. This is ridiculous

Obviously not a MEDICINE guide but like; common causes of hearing disability in clan cats. Accommodations for hearing loss vs congenital deafness. Actual difficulties of not having that sense Clan-by-Clan. Debunking of misconceptions like... not being able to learn APPARENTLY.

[etfrin]

Awkward Smiles and a Kiss | Nanami Kento

Warning - none! | masterlist

Nanami Kento x female! Reader

Summary - i need a date with Nanami Kento :'(

You weren't used to this.

A gentleman that Nanami Kento was.

You were used to boys not men. And Kento was a man. From the flowers he gifted you in front of the restaurant, to pulling your chair for you, and letting you order whatever you want without making you feel guilty about it.

You came to this blind date thinking it would just end in a hook up but the man hadn't had any such intentions. He was kind, sweet and patient. His tone is respectful and his voice deep. His eyes focused on you, and the conversations flowed smoothly.

You didn't have similar interests as him. While he liked non fiction, you liked your fictions. He liked the classics, you liked your pop culture way more. He was proper and you were chaotic. While his smile was confident and reassuring, yours was hesitant and awkward.

You were like a fish out of water. Convinced that you won't be getting a second date because there's no way you can be what this man is looking for. By the end of the date, he even offered to take you back home. An offer you gladly accepted.

The car ride was filled with the music from the radio. A classic he seemed to like but made you feel like it made your ears bleed.

His free hand went to press the buttons of the radio, changing the channels until a familiar pop song came on. Summer of love by Shawn Mendes.

— it was the summer of love

A delicate daydream

And for a couple of months

It felt like we were eighteen —

The music helps you relax into the seat. You face him. "You didn't have to change," you said. "I wanted to," he replied, his voice soft, mixing in with the chorus of the song. You chuckled, "But you don't even like this." He shrugs, "It doesn't matter much, you seem to like it and I am sure by the next date we can listen to a few classics then… only if you want to."

"Second date?" You asked, a bit surprised. Your heart skipped a beat. "I apologize for assuming but I would love a second date with you," he said, his gaze turning to you instead of the street for a mini second. "I would like that too," you said, your tone softer than before.

You don't see it but Kento smiles a bit from the confirmation.

You were standing in front of your door right now, holding the rose bouquet that he gave you. A part of you wanted to kiss him, another part wondered that you shouldn't. He wasn't like anyone you dated before. What if he took it the wrong way?

Before he entered the car though, you decided to stop him. "Kento," you said, getting near his space. "Yes?" he questioned, looking a bit confused.

"Is there something wrong-"

You pressed your lips on his cheek, before he could finish the sentence. He was so tall that you were glad that you wore heels. You pull back, smiling when you notice a light blush on his skin.

"Just wanted to give a proper thanks for the flowers," you said, walking back to your door and waving him goodbye.

You let out a sigh after you enter the house.

You'll make sure to take it slow with this man.

You'll make sure that this works out because you were already in love with Nanami Kento.

[willows-peak]

*･ﾟ✧ Movie Date Time!

tags: gender neutral reader, only fluff, movie date!, itadori infodumps at you and you fall in love with him bc duh, who wouldnt?

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i struggled on this lowkey bc i've never written confessions before, also why is there no lore for the human earthworm series cries

⋆｡˚ ♡ You yawned to yourself as you blearily blinked your eyes open, wiping your mouth of a stray drop of drool that had escaped during the night as you slowly started to register your surroundings. Your pillows underneath your head, the sunlight creeping through your curtains onto your face, and a strange…buzzing sound? Did a bee get in through your window?

The buzzing didn’t seem to end as you listened, the noise fading in and out of existence and bringing you out of your sleepy phase with how incessant it was. Whatever bee this was better have a death wish, because you were smacking around your bed for something to swat at it when it continued buzzing, growing louder now that you were fully conscious. Your hands, while fishing through your sheets, came to clasp around your phone, feeling it buzz loudly in your palm. Oh. That’s what it was. You swiped open your lockscreen to see the incoming call icon, ringing in time with your phone buzzing. You hit accept and held it up to your ear, croaking out a “Hello..?” before being met with the familiar, loud voice of Itadori on the other line. You whined as you heard Itadori greet you enthusiastically. “Sorry, did you just wake up?” He said, his voice softening up while you heard him chuckle nervously after you gave a sleepy ‘mhm’ in reply. “Wellll, I wanted to ask if you mayybbbee wanted to come to the movies with me! I’ll pay for your ticket, too! Well, I..have an extra ticket already, I mean..” You stretched your arms out as you listened to him, nodding at first before letting out another ‘mhm’ in agreement. “You will?? Great! I’ll come and pick you up, don’t worry about getting here.” You gave him a quiet ‘bye’ before he hung up the phone, leaving you to flop back down against your pillows and grumble. It was the weekend, so you’d planned on just sleeping in until mid afternoon at the earliest, but unfortunately life had other plans for you. And you couldn’t just deny Itadori, he was so sweet and earnest that you truly had no choice but to go with him. To the movies. Oh no.

You’d agreed to going with him before you could even realize what he was asking of you, sighing as you predicted exactly what kind of movie was in store for you. Itadori was, for lack of a better term, a film nut. The only issue with that is he seemed to find the strangest series to latch onto and gush over, with his newest love being a series called ‘Human Earthworm’. You gave it the benefit of the doubt, despite some of the scenes being too gorey for your taste, but Itadori was hooked from day one. 

You’d heard that another sequel was going to be released soon, as well, so you were certain that that’s what awaited you in the theaters. Well, you weren’t going to back out of this so quickly, especially when you had nothing else to do today. Yes, maybe the series was very clearly being milked for content, and yes, maybe a part 4 to something that should’ve ended a while ago won’t be the best film ever, but if Itadori liked it then who were you to not give it a try?

…Now, what to wear?

~☆.｡.*

”Coming!!” You yelled to the doorbell ringing, hurrying to hop your foot into your shoe as you raced to open the door. You swung the heavy wood open to reveal a smiling Itadori on the other side, decked in more Human Earthworm merch than you thought even existed. You now laughed at your original worry that your outfit would stand out too harshly while going out, stepping out of your doorway while patting your pockets down for your essentials. 

“Your shoe’s untied.” Itadori pointed out, making you huff and look to the side in annoyance. “You got here way earlier than I expected, don't blame m-” A light movement against your foot made you stop yourself, taking a glance downwards to observe what was happening. “Eh?”

Itadori was…tying your shoe for you? You blinked a few times in surprise, allowing him to finish the loop and pop back up to face you. “Alright, now we're all good. Ready to go?” You paused in replying to him, the small, almost unnoticeable kind act making you feel much more sheepish. “Y….yeah, let's go. Thank you.” 

Itadori beamed at your thanks, patting your arm gently. “No problem! You're gonna need it anyways, we're walking there.” You groaned loudly at his words, tossing your head back dramatically before snapping it back towards him. “Wait, so you *walked* here that quickly??” Itadori turned his head to the side in confusion, nodding. You, once again, fell into a contemplative silence before shrugging and ushering him to follow you towards the theater. You should’ve worn something lighter..

~☆.｡.*

You flopped down onto a nearby bench, sighing loudly in relief when you glanced and saw the movie theater to your left. While it’s nice having a friend like Itadori, you really wish he’d cut you some slack with physical labor like this. You heard a soft shuffle next to you as Itadori sat beside you, holding up a bottle of water. “Sorry, we could’ve just taken the bus here. But hey! You did it! Good job!” He beamed at you, patting your shoulder while you nodded and chugged the cold water out of its plastic container. After a few seconds, you gasped at the lack of air from your chugging, handing the bottle back to Itadori and thanking him. 

You’d thankfully caught your breath after another moment or two, looking over to Itadori who was calmly placing the near empty bottle of water back into his bag. You could almost catch glances of the many magazines he had hidden near the bottom, the comic-book like styling of the title and the huge worms infesting the page telling you all you needed to know about what it was. 

“Hey, Itadori-kun?” You cut through the silence building between you two, a realization coming to you. Itadori turned his head to meet your eyes, waiting for you to continue. “I…didn’t watch the last two movies. I don’t even think I can remember the first one, actually.. So, can you fill me in on what’s happened?” You swore you could see fireworks popping off in his eyes when you asked that, a wide smile making its way back onto Itadori’s face as he wasted no time with beginning the summary of the series so far.

“It’s no problem if you just start from the 4th movie, i think, but the first three really set up the world around the protagonists, and they let you see into the mindset of Dr. Richter! Oh- that’s the evil doctor who turns the people into earthworms, but did you know that’s not what he wanted to do at first?? He actually started by researching whether you could do DNA transplants between earthworms and other animals because of a worm's ability to regenerate their limbs!” 

Despite him speaking a mile a minute, you nodded along and tried to soak in as much information as you could, smiling a bit when Itadori started using his hands to help explain the plot. His eyes gleamed, the sun catching at the ring of his iris and bringing out the hues and colors of them wonderfully. Brown, with hints of red near the outer edges, the circular glint in his eyes turning a pale yellow to highlight his irises. 

His voice was so warm, too, so full of life and energy as he masterfully wove through the story he was building up. You were impressed that he hadn’t once stumbled over his words through this, too, with him even taking pauses after a change or advancement in the plot to make sure you were still with him. You nodded, but truthfully you’d gotten a little lost in how he looked while he spoke to you, occasionally grabbing and squeezing your hands when he got too excited before pulling back and clenching his fists to contain himself.

’I wonder…’ You thought to yourself, pausing before reaching your hand out to cover his clasped ones. He didn’t seem to pay it any mind, by now moving on to the second movie’s synopsis. You remembered he mentioned that this installment was his favorite, so you leaned in and nodded along while you listened to him. His hand, while he seemed to not notice you half holding it, didn’t move from its position on his lap, staying snug and still underneath your own. 

“So, I know this is the gore-iest one, but the message it sends is so amazing! It shows how far someone will go to get praise and approval, even if it destroys them, and I think that’s a really important thing to show to an audience. What do you think about it?” He asked, smiling and looking back up at you to await your answer. You noticed him panting lightly as he stopped talking, smiling fondly and rubbing his hand with your own while he looked at you earnestly.

He was so… Cute. So excitable and open and eager to be with you, while still being helpful wherever he could apply himself. Silly, strong, brave to a fault, all wrapped together with pink hair and a big hoodie. Would it really be a stretch to say that you loved all those things about him? You did love seeing how quickly he’d adapted and grew ever since coming to Jujutsu High, and you loved being able to grow with him with your technique and your abilities. So, of course you’d love what Itadori has become, every detail of it.

And he was asking you something, right? You should’ve answered by now, come on, don’t be rude.

“I love you”

.

That wasn’t what you meant to say

Oh no.

Itadori’s smile faltered slightly as your words met his ears, mumbling a “Huh?” before his ears began to look pinker by the second. “You- Wait what?” You, unfortunately, were frozen in place as you realized you had said *that* out loud and not anything else. “I-” You started, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth as the both of you looked away to find any words to say to the other.

A beat of silence, two, three, and Itadori was the first to cut through it, though softly. “Did you mean that?” He asked, his hands never moving from underneath your now cold ones. You looked back up at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Did you mean what you said?” He asked again, his eyes sturdy and shaky all at once as you nodded slowly. His brows lifted up, relaxing ever so slightly while he gathered himself to continue. “Then… I like you too, I think. I have for a while, but it’s ok if you don’t wanna do anything, I mean, it’s great being friends with you so it’s not like we need to-”

You leaned in towards him, staring at him until he noticed you and pressed his lips together tightly. You didn’t move, nor did you say anything for a minute, only looking at him in silence before smiling at him. “Let’s…go watch the movie, ok?” You prompted, Itadori quickly taking the lead and breathing out loudly. “Yeah, let’s go!” With a wave of his arm towards the theater, you two walked together, smiles gracing your lips as your hands never separated from walking. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Treat You 5

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

When you go home, your father is still angry. You barely get past him to lock yourself in your room before he’s hollering and crashing around again. You clean up the mess he left of your things but find much of it unsalvagable. You don’t have much as it is. Just books, really.

You huff as you lay on your bed and mope. Your laptop is broken. You don’t know what to do about that. If you lose your job because of it, you can’t imagine your father would be any kinder.

You wallow in self-pity, flinching every time your father bangs or shouts. He doesn’t stop until well after midnight. Your stomach hurts as it shrivels hungrily. Even if you could leave your room, it’s not like there’s much to eat.

You get about an hour’s sleep before you relent and give in to another day. You fish your library card out of your drawer and leave the broken laptop behind. You could see if you could sell it for parts.

You emerge from your room cautiously. You tiptoe down to the front room and peek inside. Your father isn’t there but several empties remain in his stead. You gather the empty bottle and carefully take them into the kitchen and arrange them in a box. It’s not much over a dollar’s worth for the dozen.

You leave the box by the front door and go back down the hall. You dip into the bathroom and clean up in the sink, brushing your teeth quickly as your ears prick at every noise. You finish up and carry your shoes from your room to the door.

You hook your bag across your body, another bag in your hand. You take the box of beer bottles with you into the hall and ease the door shut. You lock it and set off towards the rear entrance of the building. Your skin sets on fire as you approach the recycling bins and sift through them.

It’s embarrassing but you have no other way to pay for the computer time at the library. You fill the bag with empties, spilling stale dregs on yourself here and there, then sling the strap over your shoulder before reclaiming the clanging box of bottles. You set off, keeping your head down as your muscles burn from the extra weight.

You wait an hour outside the beer store for opening time. You carry in your haul and get your change. Three bucks and some change. That’s about two hours of PC time. You want to cry but you hold it back. You’ll just have to get lots of work done.

At the library, you hand over all but seventy-five cents to sit at one of the computers. You’re dizzy from the long walk and your lack of breakfast. Before you log in and start the time, you go out to the water fountain in the lobby and take a long drink. You feel a bit better even if your stomach only screams louder with hunger.

You type in your library card number and the code they wrote down and start the session. You sign in to the transcription portal and start the first job that comes up. If you can keep on track, you can get almost fifty dollars added to your next pay out.

🪻

On Friday, you’re back at the library. You’ve collected enough empties through the week to get between two to three hours at a PC each day. You even managed to find a few dimes on the couch while your dad wasn’t looking.

Your session times out at two and you pack up. Yesterday you accidentally fell asleep on one of the chairs in the mystery section. The librarian gave you a warning but otherwise let you be.

You hike your bag up and wander the aisles. You know you’re supposed to be meeting Peter. You’ve been dreading it but you didn't have a way or the nerve to cancel on him. Deep down you have to admit you’re excited to try a video game. The closest you ever got were the educational spelling and math games in grade school.

You make yourself leave the library and walk down to the cafe. You stand outside as you find the door locked. Your heart drops. It’s closed.

You hang your head and take a step back. Oh, it must’ve been a joke after all. Why would he want you around? He just had you walk all the way down here as a prank. Just like grade school when those girls invited you to that sleepover and drew all over your face.

You wince and turn away, arms crossed as your shoulders slump. You can’t believe you fell for it. You’re so stupid.

“Hey,” a voice calls and you look up to see Peter waving his hand as he runs across the street. You gape at him in surprise, “hey, uh, sorry, I think–” He hops up on the curb and checks his watch. It’s fancy, one of those digital fitness ones. “I’m on time.”

“I thought…” you look back at the cafe, “you were working?”

“Supposed to but owner didn’t show up. Or the keyholder so… no shift.”

“Oh, I thought…”

“You thought what?” His forehead wrinkles, “that I ditched you? Nope. I didn’t have any way to contact you so I just figured I’d come back and meet you like we planned. Video games are still on.”

“Right,” you nod glumly, “it’s okay if you changed your mind.”

“Do you think I’m lying?” He challenges, not harshly, rather sounding hurt.

You shake your head, “I’m not… I don’t think that but I don’t know.”

“Do you still want to come?” He asks uneasily, “I kinda… kinda been looking forward to this but I wouldn’t want you to feel forced.”

“I…” you blink and rub your neck, “I do.” You raise your head resolutely, neck still slightly bent to look him in the eye, “I just…” you bite your lip and shrug, “I guess I’m not good with people so…” you sway back and forth nervously, “I’m scared.”

“Scared? Don’t be. I’ll be right there with you,” he assures and his whole face brightens as he smiles. “If anyone gives you a hard time, you tell me, alright?”

“Okay,” your murmur.

“Well, let’s go,” he says, “Aunt May gave me the car so we can stop and grab snacks.”

“Oh, that’s… cool.”

“Promise I won’t speed,” he chuckles, “precious cargo and all.”