#I’m gonna throw up just thinking about it.

[corneredcopia]

Heyyy so did we ever ask why stone needed to change from his battle/biking fit into his suit before the haircut scene? And why Robotnik didn’t request stone to take those clothes (the jacket, biker shorts, black jeggings) to use as materials to fix his own fit but instead insisting to rip stone’s shirt off?

[mattybsgroupie]

wet ♡ chris sturniolo

— CONTENTS: established relationship; making out; handjob (m receiving); thigh riding (f); PISS kink; mommy kink dom!reader; sub!chris

— NOTES: okay, this is the last time im bringing a taboo kink lmfao if my account gets suspended after posting this it’s not my fault you guys wanted it!!! if you don’t feel comfortable, please DO NOT READ. none of this is real, it’s just a fanfiction. inspired by this ask + the wedding pics 🙈 not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes, enjoy and please let me know if it was up to your expectations!

chris’s hands ran through your body, palming every inch of your flesh. his long fingers gripped on your hair, gently pulling your scalp as he grinned before biting your lower lip. he looked good and he knew it. you were his “plus one” on a family wedding and you couldn’t be happier — but chris wouldn’t stop acting up.

throughout that day, he kept on teasing you. smacking your ass as he crossed the dance floor, making you sit on his lap — in front of his parents — so you could feel his boner, taking you to the bathroom and sucking your tits. the ride home was quiet, chris’s pants becoming tighter and your panties, wetter.

you didn’t waste time. as soon as you arrived home, chris pulled you closer, pressed you against the wall and made your way to the bedroom between kisses and moans.

chris had his back resting on the headboard as you crawled to his lap, fully sitting over his boner. he groaned, throwing his head back and immediately placing his palms on your hips, trying to pull your satin dress up. 

you clicked your tongue once you realized what chris was trying to do. “nuh uh” you said, grabbing his wrists and placing them in front of you. his blue orbs flickered between your dress and his pants, silently pleading you for some attention. “you had all the chances to behave at the wedding, and yet you chose to act up” you spitted out, touching the fabric of his tie with your index. chris gulped as you interlocked the cloth between your fingers, pulling him closer. a choked moan came from the back of his throat, his chest suddenly inflating as the need for air took over his mind. 

you loosened your grip, noticing his parted, dry lips and the pink tint on his cheeks. “i think you need to learn how to behave” you continued, removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. his fists were still resting on your thighs, but chris pulled away when you brought the tie to his hands. “i love you, and i want you to do this, but i need to pee first” chris said.

you chuckled at his innocence, gently caressing his flushed cheek with your thumb. not only chris would not be allowed to cum, his bathroom privileges were also revoked. “you’re not going anywhere, sweetheart” you cooed, the warm tone sending a shiver down his spine. “b-but! i need to go!” he protested, eyes suddenly widening as you tied the knot around his wrists, lifting his arms so they’d be resting above his head.

“it’s your own fault for drinking that much at the wedding” you said, adjusting yourself on his lap. you went back to the task of removing his shirt, slowly opening the white buttons across his torso. chris whined when you reached the last one, hoping that you’d let him to use the bathroom soon.

“please ma, i really have to go” he pleaded. you laid your palm against his bare chest, tracing circular motions towards his lower belly. you leaned in for a kiss, and the moment his voracious, desperate lips touched yours, you pressed his bladder. chris jerked his body forward, startled by your sudden action. “fuck! don’t f-fucking do that” he complained, furrowing his eyebrows. “i’m gonna fucking piss myself or something”.

“hey, look at me” you called chris, grabbing his jaw and forcing his chin upwards. “don’t worry about it, yeah?” you cooed once again, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. chris allowed you to get inside his mouth, latching his lips around your knuckle and sucking it. 

the sight in front of you looked straight out of a porno. chris had his arms up, his fingers motioning for no apparent reason. tiny droplets of sweat glued his brown locks to his forehead, and a small amount of drool started to form on the corners of his mouth. his opened shirt exposed his chest, red scratches from your nails contrasting with his pale skin. chris squirmed around, trying to ignore the growing pressure on his tummy. 

he couldn’t enjoy what you were about to do. you removed your dress, standing naked in front of him before sitting on one of his thighs. your pussy was drenched in wetness, the heatness coming from both bodies making your cunt throb against his clothed leg. the fabric was thick and somewhat itchy, giving you the perfect amount of roughness to hump chris.

chris threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut and whimpering “i wanna touch you so bad”. you ignored his pleads, focusing on your own pleasure until you decided you needed some more balance to go faster. your palm rested on chris’s tummy and gave it one last push, thrusting your hips forward. the cloth rubbed against your folds and a specific sewing of his pocket touched your clit, bringing you closer to the edge.

“mommy! please d-don’t push again” chris whined, taking you out of your trance. “please, i can’t hold it anymore! it hurts!” he complained, not being able to keep watching you getting off while his pathetic dick remained untouched.

“be a good boy and let mommy cum, yeah?” you said. “then you can make a mess, i promise” you sealed your lips together, now using his shoulders for support. his whimpers became louder as your orgasm approached, the repetitive “mommy” coming from his mouth throwing you over the edge. your body trembled as you released, the juices from your throbbing cunt leaking down his pants.

but that was not the only wet thing there. as you came back from your high, you felt something warmer quickly spreading under you. you opened your eyes to see the huge stain forming on chris’s pants, wetness taking over his legs. chris was pissing himself. 

he wouldn’t dare look at you. he was so embarrassed. he felt so helpless, so desperate, so humiliated. “‘m sorry— ‘m sorry i c-couldn’t hold it!”

you smiled at him, cupping his cheeks together, a small pout forming on his lips. “you did such a good job holding for so long” you praised, running your fingers through his hair as you continued to whisper, “you’ve made a mess and that’s what i wanted, hm? i’m not mad” you assured him. “you took your punishment like a good boy and i’m so proud of you”

chris let out a sigh of relief, thanking you as you untied the knot around his wrists, finally giving his arms some rest. “now let’s finish the mess you started” you said as you unbuckled his belt, revealing his completely soaked underwear. you chuckled at the sight in front of you, helping chris to remove his final piece of clothing before wrapping your fingers around his cock, spreading the pre-cum that leaked from his slit. 

“fuck fuck fuck” chris repeated, bucking his hips forward and thrusting inside your fist. his cock twitched inside your palm, his thick, swollen veins telling you he was about to burst. “i held for so long please please please i need to cum”

“already?” you playfully responded, fastening your pace. “cum! gon’ cum!” he cried out loud, not waiting for your permission. his entire body trembled beneath you, thick ropes of cum spurting from his tip. the white, sticky liquid spilled on your hand and his own tummy, spams taking over his worn out figure.

you laid on top of chris, snuggling further in his embrace as both of you recovered from such an intense session. after a while, chris spoke up. “listen, i don’t wanna sleep in my own piss so… i think we should take a shower” you giggled, playfully hitting his chest. “i’m serious. and we need to buy a waterproof mattress. next time i’m doing this to you”

— once again not using the actual taglist cause it’s not everyone’s cup of tea ♡⊹𑄽୧

chris masterlist | complete masterlist

[shouyuus]

Hiii, I’m the person screaming crying throwing up every time you post, love ur stuff!

Anyway… I’m thinking mechanic!vi prolonging the time it takes her to fix your car just cause she wants you coming around the shop more and then when she does eventually fix it she kinda worries you’re not gonna stay over at hers as often but u decide to ask her if u can move in or smth like this?!?

Idek tbh my brain is so fried from over consuming Vi content

all you have to do is stay

mentions of sex, but no explicit scenes, car mechanic!vi au oh she absolutely would; there's actually so much stupid domestic bliss in this wow

and sure, the hookup was good in the beginning, but she liked it when you came around, liked it when you'd show up at her shop, all shy and wide-eyed, asking her if you could watch, and who's she to turn down such a pretty girl, right? and honestly, she thought it was kinda cute, how you'd try your best to ask her about this or that, and she'd find herself rambling about her favorite kinds of pinon brackets, or talking you through a chassis restoration for another vintage car that was brought in.

it shouldn't take a whole-ass month to rig a crossflow radiator, especially since the rest of your car's actually in pretty good condition, but she keeps on picking out other things to do, insisting that she's already here anyway, sliding out from under the car with a crooked grin, asking you to pass her another cold beer.

but there's only so many things she can make up before it's obvious, even to you that there's not much else to do. so when the day comes, she's quieter than usual, tallying up the extensive list of repairs that she's both done and made up for herself to do (you'd insisted that you at least pay for the major ones, and if the smaller ones came with a dinner-date and dessert in bed afterwards... well.)

"and... i think that's all of it, sweets."

she hands you the receipt, immediately tucking her hands into the pockets of her light-wash jeans. her shoulders shrug up as you look down the list. it's way less than that she should be charging you for, but you peer up at her, frowning at the pinch between her brows and the tension clear in her muscles.

"vi? what's... wrong?"

"ah -- it's nothin' sweets, don't worry your pretty little head over it."

she teeters forwards and back, as if she can't decide if she wants to move closer or back away. but you're already reaching for her, closing the distance between you with your head cocked, your eyes bright and questioning. and she could never resist it when you looked at her like that, so toe-curlingly trusting. as if there wasn't a thing in the world she could do or say to drive you away or upset you.

sometimes, she'd lay awake and wonder if you knew how dangerous that kind of trust is -- how someone less scrupulous would take it and twist it into something foul. but she'd never let that happen -- at least not while you wanted her around.

"violet... we might not have known each other for very long but... you're not a very good liar," you say, reaching up to cup her cheeks, coaxing her eyes back to yours. she laughs -- it's a tiny, helpless sound; it shakes her open in a way that startles even her, the way her whole body wants to fold over you, into you.

"geez, sweets... that's... that's not really fair of you."

she lifts her hand to press them over yours, hands over hands, petaled around her cheeks, and it occurs to her that perhaps this is what it means to live up to her namesake -- violet. you'd said it was a beautiful name the first the she told you what vi stood for.

"you're not really fair either, vi... but that's never stopped you, has it?" you ask, a mischievous glint in your eyes, your lips twisted up on a fox-hole smile.

vi sucks in a breath. something feels like it's clawing up the length of her ribcage and burrowing through the hollows in her chest till she can taste it pitter-pattering at the back of her throat. it takes her a full three seconds to realize that it's her own traitorous heart, beating so strong she can taste it on her tongue.

"fuck."

and then she's kissing you, pulling you to her, fingers harsh and desperate, her touch lingering like month-old grease-stains the way they dig into your delicate skin. you gasp open for her, against her -- you let her tug you into her till there isn't a part of you she can't reach if she wanted to.

the kiss breaks like a dam bursting open, and a few seconds later, she's got you hoisted up on her workbench, wrenches and old receipts scattering to the floor as she slots herself easily between your legs. it's a familiar place to be, after all -- after all this time.

you hiss, fingers fisting in her hair; it's longer now, than when you first met. and she'd be lying if she said her letting it grow had nothing to do with your offhand comment once (over yet another impossible banana sundae) that you liked it long.

"vi -- vi -- please -- you --"

"hm? what is it, pretty girl?"

"you c-can't just try to distract me w-with sex every time --"

and she can't help the grin that hitches over her lips at the way your chest is heaving, your eyes blown dark, the way your thighs shake on either side of her hips. but she can see the flicker of worry in your eyes and her stomach twists with uncertainty.

"i -- i don't --" she tries, but a breath puffs out of her and she sags against you, "it's... just... now that the repairs are done... there's not really much reason for you to come around... and..."

at her words, you heave a sigh that seems much too big and weary for your body, pulling back to fix her with a surprisingly sharp look.

"you really thought i was coming around here to listen to you talk about my car repairs?"

vi does her level best not to pout; hearing you say it out loud, it does sound... a bit childish. instead, she leans forward and digs her nose into your neck, wrapping both arms around you till she's got you cocooned in her chest.

"what? you weren't interested in the new pressure washer i got just so i could get that really stubborn stain off your back bumper?"

you trail your fingers through her hair, letting your nails graze along her scalp. a shiver washes down the length of her back and you giggle close to her ear.

"sure i did... but you could talk about... dunno... your favorite dish rag, and i think i'd still wanna listen -- because i like listening to you talk about the stuff you like... because..." and its your turn to hesitate, her turn to pull back and fix you with a look -- one that's equal parts pleading and disbelieving.

"because what, pretty girl?" she asks, her voice low and husky, a thumb running across the round of your cheek.

"b-because i -- i like you, vi."

your eyes flicker away and color seeps into your cheeks like dye across clear water -- the shade blooming into you till vi's sure there's no color so beautiful as the one that you are now.

"mm... well, thank god for that cause..." she leans in to press her forehead to yours, "i was starting to wonder, what with all the multiple orgasms and midnight munch sessions and --" she laughs as you squawk indignantly at her, your eyes flashing wild and wide.

"t-that's not what i -- you know that's not --"

"oh? so you don't like those?" she asks, the tease now so obvious in her voice that you flush several shades darker. vi thinks she may have to amend her previous decision on her favorite shade of you. and you're outdoing yourself today.

she lets her free hand wander to the bend of your hips and she gives you a squeeze.

"i --" you steady yourself in the solidness of her, reaching down to lace your hands with hers, "of course i -- i like those things too but i -- i like that you're the one doing them to me and --" you swallow; vi tries not to be to distracted by the hummingbird flutter of your pulse as you struggle to find the words, even though both of you know full well by now exactly what you're trying to say --

sometimes, just sometimes, words speak just as loud as words need to. and the actions are just there to back them up.

sometimes, there are certain things that people just want to -- or need to -- hear said out loud.

"i -- i wanna come over even when there's nothing for you to fix... i..." you steady your breathing and vi nearly drowns in the certainty that settles between the pair of you, an ocean full of of unsaid words (the ones that don't need to be said to be understood), drifting like sunlight over shifting waves -- their brightness made no less real by their shimmering reflections in the water, "i guess i just... wanna be wherever you are. like... all the time."

vi's eyebrows hitch; her breath follows shortly after.

"all the time?"

you bite down on your lips, "yeah but... i know it's only been like... a month or whatever --"

"no, no god -- sweets, i -- i want that too -- more than anything -- it's just --" she motions at the shop, and you nod, catching her hand in yours mid-air.

"it doesn't have to be right now," you say, smiling and giving both her hands a firm squeeze.

"yeah?" she asks, a rare quiver to the shape of her voice.

you nod, "yeah." and your voice is just as solid as she needs it to be. you lean in to kiss her, and she sighs open against you, as you've done so many times for her.

"we'll -- we'll make it work," you say, in between harsh, nipping kisses, even as vi groans and trails her mouth along the line of your jaw. you gasp, letting your head tip back, "w-we'll t-take it s-s-slow -- mmngh -- vi!"

vi hums as she sucks a dark hickey into the side of your neck, feeling savage wanting plume open in her chest. she looks back up at you with darkening eyes and a hunter's smile.

"dunno if i know how to take it slow, sweets --"

"w-what about all those t-times you told me t-to wait --" you keen high in the back of your throat as she drops to pillow her cheek to your thigh, flipping up the bottom of your skirt to dig her nose into the damp triangle of your panties.

vi scoffs, rolling her eyes as she glances back up at you with a playful smirk.

"oh fuck you."

you lick your lips, reaching down to sink your fingers into her hair again, pulling just hard enough for the an ache to gather in her belly.

"thought that's what you were trying to do."

vi stands up, pulling you bodily forward till your ankles are linked at the small of her back, her palms holding up the plush of your ass as she walks the pair of you back into the house and up the thin flight of stairs to her room.

it's a good few hours before either of you are coherent enough to talk about any of this again, but by the time you are, the twilight is budding along the far horizon, and vander's texting to ask vi if he should pick anything up on the way back from the bar for dinner.

"you wanna stay for dinner?" vi asks, twisting to glance at you in bed, her face illuminated by the digital blue of her phone.

your pillow your cheek on your hand, "yeah, i'd love to."

"cool, what do you want?" she asks, her eyes turning back to her phone.

you lick your lips, "how about... you ask vander to pick up some tomatoes? i can make one of my grandma's old soup recipes. you have potatoes and cabbage right? and... i think i saw some pork bones in the freezer the last time i was here."

you cast your eyes up at the ceiling, ticking through a mental list of ingredients.

you only turn to shoot vi a glance when you realize that you can no longer hear the rapid pik-pik-pik of her fingers on her phone.

she's staring at you with what could only be called wonder in the halfway dark.

"you... remember what's in our fridge?"

"well i -- there's not much in there --" you say, almost indignantly.

she laughs, shaking her head, "no, it's just -- i didn't think you'd ever notice something like that, i mean, pardon me for thinking that you've never set foot in a kitchen in your entire life, what with you being daddy's little princess and all," she goads, nudging you with an elbow even as you squirm away from her, pouting.

"i'll have you know that i'm actually a really good cook, okay?" you tell her, "when -- when i was little, and my grandma lived with us, i'd help her in the kitchen all the time. and... after she got too old to make stuff... i was the one who cooked for her, because she said it tasted like stuff she'd eat in her childhood so..."

vi shuffles closer to you under the blankets, nuzzling her nose into your cheek.

"and just when i thought you couldn't get more perfect," she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you giggle, allowing yourself to be tugged back into her chest.

"i told vander to pick up tomatoes... and to invite silco and everyone else he can round up over for dinner."

you squeak, shooting up, "what?!"

vi grins, pushing up with a soft yawn, "you can't just tell me that you've got grandma-level cooking skills and not expect me to invite my whole entire family, right?"

you tumble out of bed, nearly tripping over your panties, still caught around your ankles. you pull them up, scrambling for one of vi's big shirts to toss over your body as she watches you from the bed with an indulgent smile before swinging her legs off and standing up to pull you back into her chest.

"calm down, sweets -- i'll help you, kay? now, tell me what you need."

you nod, pulling on a pair of her jogging shorts and twisting your hair into a haphazard bun out of your face as you start listing off ingredients, hopping the last two steps onto the first floor landing and fluttering into the kitchen.

by the time vi rounds the doorway, it's to find you with vander's massive apron already tied around your waist, an several pots and pans stacked on the countertop.

"i need three onions, and a head of garlic and... a few bay leaves, if you have them. it's okay if you don't --"

vi fights back a grin (it's a losing battle, she thinks, but it's one that she's considering losing for the rest of her goddamn life if it meant doing this every day with you).

"sure, sweets -- whatever you need."

you nod, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt as you set to work peeling the potatoes. a few second later, vi pops up from the fridge, frowning.

"looks like we've only got one onion, but i found some shallots... not sure how good they are though... they were kinda shoved into the back." she holds up the bag with a grimace.

you blink at her, and for a moment, vi thinks that you're going to be angry, or at least a bit frustrated. but then, your face breaks into a sweet, helpless sort of smile, and you reach out to take the shallots from her.

"it's okay," you say, in a voice that sounds just a little too much like coming home, and vi has to swallow passed the peach-pit suddenly caught in her throat.

your fingers brush against hers as you point her towards the half-peeled potatoes, and she gets to work without you even having to ask.

you lean up onto your tiptoes and press a kiss to her cheek, your eyes bright as fallen stars when she turns to look at you.

"it's okay," you repeat, smiling up at her with that smile that just might rhyme with forever, "we'll make it work, okay?"

vi licks her lips; there's an entire ocean of saltwater words caught behind the tombstones of her teeth that she does not know how to say. but she thinks, as she looks at you and you turn back to fussing over the one onion and handful of shallots, that you probably know it all anyway.

"okay," she says, before turning back to the diligent work of peeling the potatoes.

[starkeysbunny]

something about you.

pairing - rafe cameron x kook!reader

summary - rafe and reader have been in a friends with benefits relationship for months now. it’s been slowly killing both of them, but they’re both too afraid to say anything. it gets to a point and rafe can’t take it anymore. he can’t stop thinking about you.

warnings - fluffy as hell literally throwing up it’s too sweet

my eyes were closed, my lips slightly parted as i let out a huff against my pillow. it was friday. rafe would usually text me on fridays. he’d ask me to come over, stressed out from work, a long week—whatever it was. i didn’t care.

he needed me.

it was friday, at eleven pm, radio silence. not a word from him. i felt a gnawing at my insides. this man had a grip on every fold of my brain. and we weren’t even together. it was pathetic. but i couldn’t stop.

if i couldn’t have more of him, i’d take this. being his for a couple hours a week. all his attention on me, like it was real. for a couple hours, i get to pretend it’s real.

i turn and stare at my ceiling, hoping i’ll hear my phone ping. i was getting tired. but if he texted, i’d go.

it’s pretty sad. i know. my friends have told me to get up, so many times. shake his hold. but i can’t. i’ll take any parts of him he’ll give me.

ping.

i practically fall over as i reach for my phone, frantically checking the notification.

rafe

hey.

hey? i huff, my head plopping against my pillow. another ping.

can you come over?

i stare at the message, taking a deep breath. it was nearly midnight. i should get up. i should say no. say i’m sick of the casual bullshit.

but soon, i find myself slipping my hoodie over my head, sliding into my uggs.

yeah.

is all i say. i didn’t need to say more. there was nothing more i could say. another ping.

i’ll pick you up. it’s late. don’t want you driving.

my eyebrows furrow. he’s gonna pick me up? he’s never done that.. it’s always the same routine. he texts me, i go over. and sometimes he makes me spend the night, whether i want to or not, because he doesn’t want me driving so late.

but he’s never picked me up.

i don’t say anything, heading to my living room and sitting on the couch in my empty apartment. i recently moved out of my parents, and i’d like to say it’s just a coincidence i moved into the complex only seven minutes from tannyhill.

it wasn’t.

my nails nervously pick at the hem of my hoodie as i wait. it was the longest seven minutes of my life. my mind kept racing. something about tonight felt different. he’s picking me up. and it’s so late. it’s usually never this late.

ping.

i’m here.

i swallow roughly and rub my eyes, standing up. i slide my phone into the pocket of my sleep shorts. the only sound in my quiet apartment is the shuffling of my slippers against the hardwood as i walk toward the door. i grab my keys and slide them into my other pocket, heading for the door. i lock it behind me and walk down the stairs, spotting the blaring headlights from rafe’s truck.

i walk towards it, shivering slightly from the cold air hitting my skin. i look up and see him get out, rounding the truck to the passenger side. he opens my door as i approach.

“hey.” i say softly.

he was in a hoodie and sweats, more relaxed from his usual appearance. which contained a white button up, usually unbuttoned by the time i see him, paired with some kind of dress pants.

“hey.” he whispers. his eyes drift down my appearance. “why’re you wearing shorts? it’s freezing, are you crazy?” he sighs, running a hand over his buzzed hair. his hand comes to the small of my back, not even allowing me to respond before he ushers me in his truck. he shuts the passenger door and rounds the vehicle again to his side.

he gets in, the engine humming as he starts it. he glances over at me and sighs, reaching his arm back to the backseat. he grabs a blanket, gently laying it out over my lap.

“nearly thirty fuckin’ degrees, and you’re sleepin’ in shorts.” he sighs, muttered under his breath.

i swallow roughly, looking down as his hands gently linger over the tops of my thighs as he lays down the blanket. “thanks.” i whisper.

“mhm.” he hums, his hands moving to grip the steering wheel as he peels out of the driveway.

the drive to his house was short, and quiet. the heater gently enveloped me, quickly changing my shivering form from earlier to warmth. my eyes stay looking out the window as i feel the occasional glances from rafe to my side. his eyes were like blades, puncturing into my skin at every glance with a sting.

i feel the truck come to a stop as we pull into the driveway. rafe had taken over tannyhill after his dad died, and sarah moved in with the pogues. so, it was always quiet here. sometimes i wonder if he brings anyone else over ever. or just me.

i watch as he gets out of the drivers seat, rounding the truck to my side. he sticks his hand out for me to grab as i step out of the truck. my hand fits in his warm palm, his hand cradling the small of my back as i step out.

i stand by his side as we walk up to the house. i look up at him, my eyes soft. “r-rafe..?”

“hm?” he hums as we approach the door, he fishes through his pockets for the keys.

“um.. are we…” i trail off.

he pauses as he finds the keys, his eyes flicking to me. his gaze runs over my face as he lets out a breath. “no.” he whispers.

so this was something else. i swallow roughly as i feel my stomach drop. was he ending things? i don’t say anything more and he opens the door, allowing me to walk in first

whenever i was in tannyhill, i felt out of place. it was a huge, beautiful mansion. but it carried a darkness to it. i could hardly imagine how rafe lived here alone. it would eat me up. just as i stand in the foyer, i feel small and inferior in the big space.

“hey.” he whispers. his voice snaps me out of my thoughts, his hand coming to the small of my back. i follow him as he guides me toward the living room. my eyes sift over the space and he guides us to a window seat, outfacing the backyard.

he sits and gestures his hand out for me to sit. i nervously pull my legs into my chest as i slip off my slippers.

“rafe.. why-why’d you text me?” i ask softly.

he leans back against the window with a soft sigh, his hand coming up to run over the stubble against his jaw. he chuckles softly, throwing his hands up. “been asking myself the same shit.” he sighs, looking over at me. he presses his lips together, his eyes wandering over me as he thinks. “i’ve been-“ he sighs. “i’ve been thinking.”

i furrow my eyebrows. “okay.. about..?” i ask softly.

he runs a hand over his face. “everything.” he whispers. “i-i’ve been really stressed.” he huffs. “cameron development, all that bullshit. i just have so much pressure on me, y’know?”

i nod gently. “yeah.” i whisper. “i-i get that. but rafe, you’re so much more than that.” sigh.

he chuckles, his tongue sticking to the inside of his cheek as he raises his eyebrows. he turns his gaze to look at me. “i appreciate that. you’re faith in me, i mean..” he trails off. “it’s nice. nobody else has it.”

my eyes narrow at him slightly. “well, i mean it, rafe.” i whisper softly, my hand gently coming to rest on his knee.

he looks down at my hand, letting out a sigh and leaning his head back against the window. he looks back at me, his gaze holding mine. but there’s something different about it this time. an intensity in his eyes i’d never seen before.

his hand comes to rest over my wrist, his thumb gently tracing in my skin. “y/n.. i-“ he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

my eyes blink up at him, my eyebrows knitted together softly. “yeah..?” i whisper.

he’s hesitant. like whatever he wants to say is stuck in a knot in his throat. he takes a deep breath, searching for the words. he swallows roughly. “look, i-i know i’m no good for you.” he whispers. “but there’s.. there’s somethin’ about you, just can’t fuckin’ get you outta my head.” he sighs and pauses before speaking his next words.

“i-i want us to be.. more. than just this. i-i can’t stop thinking about you, y/n.”

my stomach drops. my eyes widen slightly and my lips part. “i- what..?” i whisper, stunned.

he presses his lips together and i see the nerves bubble in his eyes. “i-i know we agreed to be friends with benefits and nothin’ more but-“ he runs his hand over his buzzed head, a satire chuckle escaping his lips. “i can’t fuckin’ do this shit, okay? i-i can’t keep texting you just to fuck and pretending you don’t mean fuckin’ everything to me. i can’t stand the thought of you being with other people i-“ he huffs, leaning back.

“‘m fucking obsessed with you, alright?” he whispers.

my eyes blink slowly, my lips parting. i couldn’t believe it. he felt the same way i did? every time he’d hold me after we’d hook up, a part of me hurt inside. knowing it was temporary. knowing, that i’d never really have him.

and that whole time—he was thinking the same thing.

“rafe, i-i want that too.” i whisper.

his eyes snap over to me, they scan over my features. almost trying to see if i was telling the truth. “really?” he whispers.

“yeah.” i say breathlessly. “i-i’ve wanted so much more. i was just scared that you didn’t. and that if i said anything, i’d lose you completely. so i was just.. settling for what i could get.”

he swallows roughly, his lips parting. his hand comes up to my cheek, his thumb gently stroking the skin. “i wanna give you everything.” he whispers. “i-i don’t deserve you. i’m fucked up, and i get angry and i’m selfish. wanting you is probably the most selfish thing i’ve ever done. but i-i can’t get you out of my head.” he sighs softly, his hand gently cradling my face.

“i may be all of those things.” he whispers. “but i’m gonna work so damn hard to deserve you. i’m gonna be better, i wanna be better every time i’m near you, baby.”

i shake my head gently. “you don’t need to be better.”

he smiles softly. “this is what i’m talkin’ about. too sweet for your own good, baby.”

“so.. you wanna be.. real?” i ask softly, my voice cautious. “like.. official and exclusive?”

he grins, nodding softly. “mhm.” he hums. “want you to be my girl. just mine.”

i smile softly, my stomach swarming at his words. “yeah?”

he chuckles lowly. “yeah, sweetheart.”

i can’t help the grin that creeps up on my lips. i scoot closer, burying my face in his neck. “okay.” i whisper, my arms wrapping around his broad shoulders.

his beefy arms immediately encapsulate me, holding my close. “yeah? you my girl, sweetheart?”

i grin, my cheeks heating up this words. “yeah, ‘m your girl.”

he grins, chuckling lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to my jaw. “‘m sorry i didn’t say anything sooner. made you think i was stringing you along.”

“no..” i shake my head softly. “‘m just glad i have you now.” i whisper. “in every way.”

he smiles, tugging me impossibly closer. “in every way.” he promises.

-

sickeningly sweet 🙂‍↕️ i’m a sucker for fluff srryyyy

[sunflowerwinds]

take care | s.a

summary: you get absolutely hammered at a party with your bestfriend, caitlyn, and you call your girlfriend to the rescue when your exhaustion hits you out of nowhere. sevika takes care of your intoxicated state and the groggy morning after.

pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane

contains: slight modern!au (they use cell phones), established relationship, alcohol consumption, cait & mel being BAD BITCHES, fluff, mentions of suggestive content, sevika being so attentive and patient <3

word count: 2.9K

a/n: absolutely self-indulgent, i wrote this the day after recovering from a hangover LMAO <3 i hope you all enjoy!!

You truthfully couldn’t remember the last time you had gotten as drunk as you were at this very moment. A friend of your best friend's had invited you two out to this warehouse party-club situation. You were hesitant at first, not knowing if you had that in you but the second you arrived at the apartment of the friend, who you found out was named Mel, and they were pregaming with Fireball and Malibu shots, you knew you were incredibly fucked.

You had a great time, granted.

Your best friend, Caitlyn, Mel, and you made new friends amid the crowd. The girls were so lovely, throwing compliments on hair, makeup, and outfits back and forth.

Before you knew it you had made your way onto the stage with the DJ, telling him to play a certain selection of songs. He even lets you queue them up on his laptop. You huff as you realize that you want to go home but Mel was talking to some tall man who was quite handsome off stage in a corner and Caitlyn was with you on stage but she was busy talking to a red-haired butch that was covered in tattoos on the other side of the large stage.

You reach lazily into your back pocket, pulling out your phone to call your girlfriend. You blink rapidly to try and focus your eyes on your screen, leaning a bit to one side as if that would help your slightly blurry vision due to both your intoxication and the number of strobe lights.

You successfully press the call button and hold the speaker up to your ear as you take slow steps over to Caitlyn, tapping her bare shoulder as she is wearing a rosewood red lace tank and a short black skirt. You mutter an apology to someone you bumped into as you tap on her shoulder again.

She turns her head around to see you holding up your phone to your ear, furrowing her brows.

“Wait, darling, who are you calling?” Caitlyn shouts over the music, one hand on the girl’s shoulder that she was talking to and the other brushing her long blue hair over her ear.

“Sevik– Hi, baby!” You beam as the line clicks, cutting yourself off before nodding to Caitlyn and mouthing, ‘Sevika’.

You think you hear a little bit of shuffling on the other line before you shake your head with a frown, looking up at your best friend. The line clicked off so you assumed you needed to go somewhere quiet to be able to talk to the woman you loved.

“Cait, wait a minute. I’m gonna,” you take a deep breath to stabilize yourself, holding a hand out to make sure you don’t face plant onto the ground. “‘M gonna go just a little bit outside so that Sev can pick us up. I’ll be righ’ back, okay?”

“No, no, you’re not going alone. Wait right here. Do not move.”

The taller woman turns to the butch she was talking to, sending her a quick flirty smile before leaning down to say something in her ear. You wait patiently for her, looking down at your screen again to see a few message notifications from Sevika.

from sevi ❤︎ | Babe, is everything okay?

from sevi ❤︎ | You did mean to call me, right?

from sevi ❤︎ | Please text me, my love. I’m getting a bit worried.

Your heart aches at the bright reminders that you have a girlfriend: who cares about your well-being. You look up to see Caitlyn placing a kiss to the woman's cheek before handing her back her phone. You swore even being as drunk as you were, you could tell how flustered that woman was. You understood though.

Caitlyn is fucking stunning.

“We grab Mel and we head outside, okay? I see her right there.” Caitlyn’s long arm hooks on yours, a big of a smug grin on her face.

“She was hot! You gave her your number right?” You squeal as you carefully step down with Caitlyn to the ground level once again.

A wave of nausea washed over you as you attempted to balance yourself out. You believe Caitlyn confirmed the fact that she had gotten the butch’s number but the next thing you remember is being face-to-face with Mel and the man she had been talking to.

She tells you his name, leaning in to shout it in your ear.

“Jay? Hi Jay! You are very handsome,” you shout in his face, a stupid smile on your face.

The man’s face twists in amusement at your state and looks at Mel with a softer expression. “H-Hi! It’s Jayce but thank you.”

Your mouth forms into an ‘o’ at how you misheard the name, stuttering out apologies. He waves it off, telling you it's okay.

“I think someone’s calling you,” the man, Jayce, points to your phone that was buzzing in your hand.

You look down at it, muttering a curse as it was Sevika calling you once again and you are still inside the loud crowded warehouse.

“Meli, we’ve got to go outside for a moment. Sevika’s calling her,” Caitlyn placed a hand on Mel’s forearm.

Mel looked between you and Jayce, excusing herself to the man and reassuring him that she’d be right back. He told her it was fine and to not worry about it. You couldn’t hold back your awe and wave ‘bye’ at Jayce as Caitlyn and Mel now had one arm hooked on either one of yours as the three of you made your way outside.

“I’ll call her back,” Caitlyn reaches for your phone that was gripped tightly in your hand.

You easily allow her to take it from you, resting your head on Mel’s shoulder as the fresh air hits you the second you step outside. You hum a random tune as Mel rests her head on your head too, rubbing her free palm on your hand.

Caitlyn took a step away from you two to dial Sevika on your phone again to let her know that you were fine and just wanted to go home. Within minutes after ringing her back, Sevika was in her beaten town truck just across the street. You gasped at the sight of it, even in your drunken state, you were able to recognize the familiar vehicle.

Sevika walks over to you three, greeting Mel and Caitlyn first before allowing you to wrap your arms around her torso to lean into her touch. You held yourself up weakly, stumbling over the curb.

“Sevika,” you sigh with a slight groan.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. We’re gonna go home,” the taller of you two leaned down to press a kiss to your damp temple from your sweat.

“We’ll see you on Monday. I’ll call you tomorrow to make sure you’re okay.” Caitlyn assures you with a sweet grin, leaning back into Mel now that you are clinging to your girlfriend.

“Wait, who’s taking you home? I don’ want you guys to be here alone,” you look up at Sevika and point your finger over her shoulder to her truck. “Let’s take ‘em home, baby.”

Mel and Caitlyn are quick to assure you and your girlfriend that the man that they were previously talking to would take them home as he was the DD for his best friend that he was with that night. You stare unable to remember for a moment who they were talking about.

“Ohhh, Jaycey boy! He seems really nice, Meli. I’m so happy for you,” you nod in approval with a thumbs up as you lean into Sevika’s chest.

“She has our locations, Sevika,” Caitlyn tells your girlfriend, hinting to her to check it every once in a while to make sure the man wouldn’t take them anywhere they weren’t supposed to.

Sevika nods in understanding, sternly telling the two to please be safe. Mel showed a photo of Jayce to Sevika to make sure she knew who this man was. Your mind only had bits and pieces of that night that you were able to remember.

For instance, after Sevika had picked you up, you couldn’t remember the drive home whatsoever. What you do remember is begging Sevika to get some Nacho Fries and a frozen Baja Blast.

You reached over her lap from the passenger's seat to tell the worker your order, Sevika placing a hand on your lower stomach to keep you steady so you wouldn’t fall forward and hit your face on the car door.

“Wait, Sevi, do you wan’ anything?” You turn your back into the car to look at your girlfriend.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, baby.” she leans forward to kiss your side before patting your hip to motion for you to sit back down.

“Mm okay,” you hum before telling the worker that should be everything and snuggle back down into your seat.

After paying for the food and handing it to you in the passenger's seat, Sevika told you that you were almost home and you could eat it then. You didn’t listen and ate all of the fries in her car and hounded down the Baja Blast with ease.

Thankfully, your shared apartment was only a few minutes away from Taco Bell.

Sevika had opened your passenger's side door when you arrived, holding back an amused at the giddy expression on your face. She held her arm out for you to grasp onto as you stepped down onto the concrete of the road. You hum to yourself as you look up at Sevika, raising your free hand to pat her broad shoulder.

“Baby, would it be so bad if we…?” You trail off as you giggle to yourself at the thought.

“If we what?” Sevika hums back as her arm slithers around your waist to hold you up as the two of you make your way to your apartment.

Sevika internally cursed as she knew you wouldn’t want to go up all of the stairs. You two lived on the fourth floor.

“Well, I don’t know. What we woul’ usually be doing on a Friday– Oh!”

You yelp as Sevika wraps her arms around your waist to hoist you up and over her shoulder, cutting off your words. Your hands rest on her lower back, grinning mischievously to yourself at the sight of her skin.

“You don’t feel like throwing up?” Sevika questions as she holds your thighs down with one of her forearms.

“Nuh-uh. ‘M lovin’ this view though,” you chuckle to yourself as you stare at her ass, blinking a bit to focus your vision.

Sevika shakes her head knowingly, smiling at your giggles the whole way up the stairs. She even felt your hands caressing her strip of skin that was exposed from her slightly cut-off t-shirt.

“You’re having fun down there?” She questions as she approaches your front door, reaching into her front pocket to pull out her keys.

You merely smack her ass to confirm her suspicions to which she lightly smacks your own with a: “Keep your hands to yourself.”

You twiddle with a loose string coming from the shirt as she carries you into your cool apartment, tossing her keys into the bowl near the front door. She kicks the door shut with her foot with a soft grunt, scaring you for a moment at the sudden movement.

“Baby, lock the door for me, please?” She asked you, scooting backward a few steps.

You lift your head, steadying yourself with one weak hand on her lower back as you reach for the three knobs. You twist each of them to the right with a soft click. Sevika kisses the side of your hip that is next to her face and thanks you before making her way down the hall to your shared bedroom.

“Sevi, I think I’m gonna throw up a little,” you warn her, hiccuping a bit.

Sevika’s eyes widen at your words as she carefully sets you down on your feet, holding your hips to lead you to the bathroom. You cover your mouth as you stumble to kneel next to the toilet, hunching over as you wait for the vomit to hit the water. Sevika quickly took her place next to you as she pushed back your falling strands of hair, gathering it in a ponytail in her fist.

“Let it out if you need to. It’s okay if you can’t,” she rubs your back with the other hand, wincing at your gagging.

You groan as you shake your head, eyes watering at the fact that it wasn’t coming up.

“It’s not– I can’t. I though’ I could, Sevi,” you frown up at her as you slump against the wall in front of the seat.

Sevika shushes you as she releases your hair and takes your hands into her larger ones, urging you to stand up.

“It’s okay. Let’s just get you to bed,” she instructs you gently.

You nod slowly, sniffling as you let her lead you back into the bedroom. You remember her carefully removing your ‘party clothes’ and putting one of her sleeping tees on you. She knew how much you adored them so at least you would have that to wake up to. She grabbed some of your micellar water and a rag to remove what was left of your makeup, holding your jaw in your hand as you kept trying to lay down once the comfier clothing was on.

After doing the usual night routine, you plopped down onto the mattress with a satisfied sigh as she snuggled your cheek into the pillowcase.

“Night, baby,” you hum as you smack your lips.

“Good night, my love,” she teases as she places a kiss on your cheek before rounding the bed to lie down on her side.

You pretty much passed out as soon as Sevika had lifted the covers over you two, mouth ajar and limbs awry.

You were never drinking again.

You thought as you carefully sat upright in your bed, squinting your eyes hard as the light from the morning sun was blinding you through your thin curtains. The headache and nausea hit you all at once as you covered your mouth, afraid of the bile that might escape. You wait a few seconds to make sure you aren’t actually going to throw up. Your eyes follow to your bedside table as you reach over to grab your phone, your movements slow as ever.

As you squint your eyes to focus on the screen, you see a few messages from Caitlyn and Mel; telling you they made it home and they were in fact not kidnapped. You then shift your eyes to the numbers at the top.

It was 9 o’clock in the morning; way too fucking early for the night you had.

You grunt as you gradually lay back down, wanting to stay still for the next three hours to not trigger the pounding headache to worsen. You peer over your bedroom door to see that it was left halfway open, the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Not to your surprise, it was Sevika with a small tray of food for you. You could hear her whisper a curse as she tried her hardest to not spill the coffee on it.

“Sevika?” You call out to her, your groggy and strained voice making your head hurt.

“You’re awake. Good morning,” Sevika tells you with a knowing and sympathetic smile.

You groan in response to her words, wanting to grab the pillow you were laying your head on and shield your face.

“I want to sleep,” you say right off the bat, frowning at her as you try to recollect the events of the previous night.

“I know, my love but can you eat this for me? You’ll feel better once you have food in you.”

Your girlfriend slowly sits herself down on the empty space next to you; her side of the bed. You knew she was right but you felt like you had to use so much energy just to sit upright, let alone eat.

And chew.

And drink.

It all sounded so… bothersome. But then you feel Sevika leaning over to press a few kisses onto your cheek and jaw, a hand rubbing up and down your arm that was out from under the comforter. You shut your eyes as you sigh at the feeling, wishing the kisses could push away your hangover.

“15 minutes,” she places one kiss on your jaw, “and then,” another to your nose, “you can sleep all day.”

You pretend as if you weren’t already set on eating as she continues to kiss as gently as possible every square inch of your face. Your smile grows as you force out a grumbled ‘fine’ as you steadily sit upright so that your back is resting on the headboard.

“You’re too good to me, Sev,” you tell her as you rub your tired eyes, yawning as she places the tray in your lap.

Sevika hums in agreement, playfully tapping underneath your chin with a hooked finger.

“Just eat. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

“No,” you reach for her hand, intertwining your fingers. “Never leave me alone.”

Sevika can’t help the smitten flush that covers her face as she takes your intertwined hands to kiss the back of yours.

“Never.”

You weakly smile at that before digging into your eggs, toast, fruit, and Tylenol with a long and collected sigh, enjoying the flavors of it all. You look down at your sleeping attire, feeling warm at the fact that it was Sevika’s.

Whether it was drunk, sober, or mind-numbingly hungover, she always took care of you.

TAGLIST: @eilishxo @nevergonna-give-u-up @archangeldyke-all @violynsb @lesbianpuppygirl @cutestdarkskin @moodient @starytree @capedyke @sameshoeally @lovinglynny @rurides @iluvwomensm

[vikasmama]

vi loves praise so much she could cum untouched.

“fuck, viii!”

vi loves making you feel good. when she’s between your thighs, her hair matted to her forehead with sweat, thighs clenched so hard around her head that she feels her brain rattle the slightest bit; it is heaven. she loves when she does so good you shudder in her grasp and yank at the hair at the nape of her neck. she loves to know she’s doing good. she moans desperately onto your clit, the calculated movements of her tongue making you throw your head back and soften your grip in her hair. vi briefly parts with you to speak, groaning in tandem with you at the loss of connection.

“mmh- fuck. got you, baby,” she readjusts her big arms hooked under your thighs, pushing her face deeper into your pussy. “gonna take care of you.”

it’s her thing, her purpose, she feels. to provide for the people she loves. to pour all her love into you, her everything. to make you feel so fucking good that your head goes numb.

“yes! god, fuck- you take such good care of me, baby…”

violet whines loud, speeding up her devouring of your cunt. every time you moan she follows. she doesn’t tend to think much about her own pleasure when she’s taking care of you, but shit that feels so good. she wants more, please tell her more.

her legs shuffle and she briefly feels how slick she is in her boxers, groaning more into you. she knows exactly when you’re about to cum before you can even realize, pointing and angling her tongue to flick your clit just how you like. stars begin appearing in your vision, and then you’re fisting the sheets and blabbering out just what she subconsciously needed to hear.

“aah! fuckkk, so fucking good, vi! i’m gonna cum for you, vi- shitshit!”

and as you’re caging her face in, yelling her praises, vi feels such a euphoric rush come over her. you’re cumming together, her fingers digging bruises into your thighs and you know her moans would’ve been way louder if she wasn’t so muffled down there.

hold her after and tell her how amazing she was for you, sweet puppy girl <3

(men + minors dni!)

[elalfywhore]

jana x bimbo reader🎀

•she’s so sweet and tries to be understanding

•she’s not used to people being as ditzy as you so she tries to be calm and cool through her frustrations

•she helps you do you’re homework, even after she comes home from a grueling practice. if you are struggling she’ll sit with you for as long as it takes

• “i don’t wanna do it anymore jana” you whine, you’re both exhausted. you two had been trying to finish your project for the last two hours. “i know, habibti i don’t either but it has to get done.” you had tried to hurry and throw your laptop back into your backpack before jana opened the door, knowing she wouldn’t let you stop until it was done, it was due the following morning and well you lagged a bit on it. “if you would’ve stared this when you got assigned it we wouldn’t be up right now.” a bit of her frustration comes through, making a hallow shell in your stomach. the look on your face makes her soften. “i’m sorry habibti, we’re almost done then we can get in the bed, okay?”

• she loves to watch you sit and do your makeup, something about you getting all ready for her makes her melt

•you’re a yapper, you constantly try and keep her up at night to listen to your little dumb ramblings and billion questions

• “baby, would you still love me if i was 6’5?” you ask laying on your side facing back sleeping jana. “habibti, i’m 6’5.” she mumbles. “well yeah but what if we were the same height? or even if i was taller than you? are you into girls that’re taller than you? do you feel like i’m too short-.” you’re cut off by a groan, “habibti, you’re not too short. id love you no matter what height. can we sleep now?” you pout and with a sigh you pull the covers up your body. “no, i’m not into girls taller than me. do you think i’m too tall?” jana softly smiles, turning on her side to face you making you giggle.

•she loves it when you come to her games!! especially when she can see you cheering her on from the side, draped in her jersey.

•she always carry’s stuff for you, you’re a bit clumsy and she doesn’t want you to drop whatever it is you’re holding.

• “i got, jana! really i can hold it.” you were feeling especially independent today, it was paige’s birthday and you two were tasked with bringing the cake. you had baked it and decorated it to perfection. a heart shaped pink cake, with cherries around the rim. “are you sure habibti? i can hold it just until we get to the car.” worry lacing her voice but also not wanting to break your good mood. “mmmm, nope! i got it, thanks baby.” you smile but your mood is quickly soured as you step, almost falling straight on your butt. jana grabbing your waist, stopping the fall and saving the cake. your eyes dough as you look up at her, “okay maybe you should hold it.” as you hand it to her. “it’s okay habibti, you’ll still be able to light the candles and cut it.”

•forehead, neck and kisses on the back of your hand are her speciality!!!

18+ below!!!

• she’s so dominant there’s not many nights where she bottoms

• tribbing is one of your guys’ favorite!!

• “feel good habibti?” she pants, reaching down to pinch your hard nipple. you guys had been at it for what felt like hours, your left leg pressed all the way up and back against the wall by her big hand. with tangled legs your clits rubbed against each others, all the wetness making the motion swift. “mm’ feels the best ever baby.” you whine out, one of your hands going to touch her toned stomach. “yeah baby?” she slows down a bit, leaning down to press a sensual kiss to your lips, you moaning into her mouth. you feel her strong hand snake around your neck, lightly squeezing. “yes, s’ good, please don’t stop.” you cry as she sits back up, the hand leaving your neck. she’s quick to put her thumb in her mouth and pull it out with a pop before moving it to rub your clit and speeding up her hips again. “not gonna stop habibti don’t worry.” she groans, staring down and where you two connected.

•she can have you sitting in her lap making out for hours, usually it only stops when either your lips get sore or you guys have to get ready to go somewhere.

•she always smacks your butt when you walk by or bend over she just can’t help herself

• she always jokes about you giving her a “three finger combo” but she’s not joking…

• “fuck baby, just like that.” she groans, her stomach tight, mouth slightly opened and head rolled back. she’s sat up on the couch, you on your knees in between her legs, three knuckles deep. “just like that, mommy?” you manage to detach your mouth from her clit long enough to get those words out before going back to continue sucking on it. “like that baby.” she pulls her head up to look down at you, taking your hair into both of her hands to pull back.

•oh my gosh her strap game is soooo strong!! so addicting!!!

•your favorite one she uses on you is pretty and pink with sparkles. it’s long and semi-thick about 8 inches with the belt of it being the prettiest light pink on her skin

• “fuuuuuuck.” you drag out, you look and sound like something out of an erotic porno. your whines mixed with the sound of skin slapping together and your wet pussy was music to jana’s ears. you’re in your shared bed taking it missionary, the comforting feeling of jana on top of you enhancing the experience. “love youuuu sooo much baby, feels s’ good, please don’t stoppp.” you blabber out, arms around her neck. her face goes down in between your boobs, kissing your chest. “not gonna stop baby, love you too much for that. love you and this pussy so much” she promises, her hard thrusts send jolts through your body. your whines and blabbering continue on especially when she takes your nipple into her mouth, gently nibbling on it. “gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.” you warn, reaching up to rub her nipple. “gonna cum, huh baby? gonna cum for mommy, huh?.” her thrusts speed up and she talks to you how you like it. the bed creeks as she reaches up and pinches your cheeks together, forcing your mouth open before leaning down and spitting in it. your eyes roll back, her actions pushing you over as you cum all over her silicone dick. she leans down, muffling your moans with her mouth, letting you suck on her tongue.

•is the type to always want to shower after sex but leaves it up to you if you wanna join or not

•either way she’s always holding you again before you fall asleep<3

[fear-is-truth]

BEING IN A POLY RELATIONSHIP WITH THANOS & NAM-GYU l headcanons

pairing — thanos x reader x nam-gyu warnings — (mild) s2 spoilers. smut author’s note — i wrote some corny lyrics for this lol

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

thanos recruited you into his “team” because of his attraction to you. the rapper didn’t try to hide that he found you hot, and he made sure you knew it, throwing compliments your way. his flirting was over-the-top and shameless. he’d call you “senorita” or “babe” in a sing-song voice, leaning in close to make sure you couldn’t ignore him. his favourite move was to serenade you with cheesy raps that made everyone cringe.

one day, thanos sidles up to you, a wide, cocky-ass smirk plastered on his face. he’s got his hands on his hips, like he’s about to drop the hottest bars in the universe. “yo, senorita,” he starts, “you’re the queen of my world, can’t you see? ain’t no one gonna take my throne, you and me, together, baby, we’re destiny!” while nam-gyu, in the background, is rolling his eyes so hard he could probably see the back of his skull. but thanos keeps going, totally into it, “baby, we can rule the game, you and i, got them all thinking i’m the reason they’ll die. you’ll be my queen, i’ll be your king, together we’ll make this whole thing sing!” it’s a miracle you don’t combust from secondhand embarrassment.

nam-gyu, as thanos’s second-in-command, was pissed from the start. in the beginning, it seemed like he was just territorial—angry that you were disrupting the group dynamic. he’d throw side comments like, “oh, great, now we’ve got a distraction,” and give you cold, assessing looks. his irritation was obvious, especially when thanos started giving you preferential treatment, like sitting beside you during meals or casually throwing an arm over your shoulder during group talks.

he tried to act more “mature” than thanos (spoiler: he wasn’t). his idea of flirting was to act tough, which mostly involved bullying weaker players to look impressive. it was like watching a middle schooler try to flex for their crush. in reality, he just looks like an asshole, and you feel annoyed by his attempts to bully someone into submission to show off. he catches your disapproving glare and immediately tries to backtrack, but it just makes it worse.

thanos wasn’t subtle about his future plans for you. “after we win this thing, you’re coming with me,” he promised you confidently. “i’ll make you my official girl. the fans will eat it up—thanos and his queen.” he didn’t ask if you wanted that, just assumed you’d go along with it lol. nam-gyu, on the other hand, played dirtier. when thanos wasn’t around, he tried to plant seeds of doubt in your mind, leaning in to whisper confidentially. “he’s a scumbag, you know. all talk, no loyalty. don’t let him fool you,”

during meals, both of them insisted on sitting next to you, even if it meant practically wrestling each other to the ground. there were no tables, just groups eating near the bunk beds or stairs leading up to them, and you always ended up sandwiched between the two guys. thanos would slouch with his arm around your shoulders, smirking at anyone who looked your way. nam-gyu would mutter snide comments under his breath, low enough for you to hear, but not enough for thanos to notice.

then came the game “mingle,” where the players had to group up based on a random number announced over the PA system. when the voice said “two,” both thanos and nam-gyu grabbed your arm at the same time. “she’s going with me,” thanos barked, pulling you toward him. “what the fuck about me?” nam-gyu shot back, tugging you in the opposite direction. if it hadn’t been for se-mi, who quickly pulled you into a room with her (the two boys found a room next to you), the four of you would’ve fucking died.

the tension escalated at night. at first, both of them insisted on sleeping next to your bunk bed. but as time went on, they started fighting over who got to sleep in your bed. it started as bickering—“move, she doesn’t want you here,” nam-gyu would snap, trying to shove thanos aside. “speak for yourself, bro,” thanos would shoot back, climbing up anyway. it’s like a power struggle between two self-proclaimed alpha males, but it’s over you, which just feels awkward. each one tries to subtly imply their superiority by making the argument about who has the better “qualifications” to be your bunkmate. eventually, the rivalry reached its peak when they both tried to squeeze into your bed at the same time. you ended up stuck between them, neither willing to back down, and neither particularly caring how uncomfortable it made you.

despite the rivalry, the situation eventually settles into some sort of… equilibrium. neither thanos nor nam-gyu backed down completely, but they seemed to reach an unspoken agreement. the two of them started “sharing” you, like some fucked up custody arrangement.

you start to realise that maybe—just maybe—this unholy triangle might not be such a bad thing after all. meal time turned into a prelude for something else entirely. when everyone was distracted, one of them would catch your eye, silently signaling for you to follow. you’d find yourself slipping away to meet them in the bathroom stall.

thanos is all energy, and unable to shut up—being balls deep inside you, his dirty talk came easily, an endless stream of words that tumbled out in rapid succession, that had you equal parts flustered and irritated. especially with how careless he was. you’d have to kiss him just to silence him, pressing your lips to his until his words were replaced by muffled groans. whenever you grabbed his hair, his reaction was instant—a breathy whimper that only seemed to spur him on more. but almost as quickly as the sound left his lips, he was smirking, leaning in to tease you. “don’t mess it up, baby,” he’d warn, his voice playful yet smug. “this shit cost a lot to style.”

nam-gyu, in contrast, was rougher and far less interested in theatrics. he wasn’t one for words—far too focused to waste time on anything unnecessary. he had you pinned firmly against the partition wall, the cool surface digging into your back as beads of perspiration formed along his brow. the thin structure trembled violently under the sheer force of his movements, creaking with every thrust as though it might give way at any second. the silence between you was broken only by a few curses and grunts that escaped him.

[awwitschuu]

𐙚 | TELL ME YOU NEED ME

cw: whiny! reader, teasing, f! reader, cream pie, clit stimulation, 🦾, caleb is kinda condescending but it’s hot so! MDNI! blank/ ageless blogs will be blocked <3

being so needy and embarrassingly horny that you try to throw hints that fly over your sweet boyfriend caleb’s head:( cuddled up and “adjusting yourself” against his bulge, not wearing any panties so it’s easier for him to access your needy cunt. it’s been an hour and he still hasn’t gotten the clue and fucked your brains out.

it’s so bad you have to spell it out for him as if it’s not embarrassing enough, wiggling your ass against him and taking one of his thick fingers to suck on. it isn’t until then that your bf has an “ooh!” moment and acts accordingly, pulling your shorts to the side and toying with your clit.

“you’re a mess down here, were you really waiting for me? i had no clue, poor baby.” caleb whispers, kissing your neck as an apology. “a-about time, dummy…” you whine, the yummy sensation of him spreading you on his fingers making you shudder. little did you know, caleb already knew what you wanted. playing dumb so you got all worked up and needy for his touch, he just didn’t expect for you to make the first move. he gets off on pushing all of your cute little buttons.

its not long until he has you laid on your back and he’s crowding over you, his heavy cock rubbing in between your slick puffy folds. you’re so impatient and pouty that he finds it adorable almost, glossed lips quivering and brows scrunched together as you paw at his chest for him to push it in. his tip continues to bump against your sticky clit, slick collecting on the head and shaft. “my my, i think my pretty girl forgot her manners,” he coos, his voice layered in a thick honey. he slaps your pussy a few times with his cock, the weight of it sends shivers through your legs.

“i know you can use that sweet brain of yours and ask nicely for what you want, yeah?” his hips continue their prior rhythm, his length gliding in between you as he waits on you to whine the magic words. you’re so beyond frustrated, your mind so clouded with need that you give in, as much as you hate to.

“p-please caleb…fuck me…stick it in i can’t take it anymore…”

you’re so pretty when you’re pliant and needy for him and only him, caleb knows you can’t help it sometimes, especially with him being away for long periods at a time. he pushes his cock in slowly, warm tight rings of muscle hugging around him. “there we go, princess. i knew you could do it.” he coos as his hips thrust into you, your body jolting in tandem. he pushes your legs to you chest, his cock sinking deeper into your heat until it presses against that spongy sweet spot. the way he speaks to you doesn’t even compare to how rough he is right now, the headboard thumping against the wall over and over.

“you’ve been waiting for this, huh? for me to come home and take care of my sweet girl?” caleb leans down, his lips breaths away from yours as he hooks your legs over his strong forearms. his gaze is intimately drawn to yours, the eye contact between you both causing warmth to saturate your cheeks. you can’t help but clamp down on him tighter, making him hiss from the heightened pleasure. “u-uh huh, missed you so much caleb!” your lips smoosh against his in a passionate yet sloppy kiss, your tongues clashing together as he fucks you harder, swallowing each and every moan that spills from you.

your legs wrap around his waist, locking him in place as he fucks deeper into you, his tip continuously nudging against the depths of your pussy. “p-princess wait i’m gonna cum! you feel so fucking good, baby!” caleb groans, his moans growing louder with each stroke. you can feel him twitching inside you, he’s trying so hard not to cum inside but you’re not making it easy. your alluring saccharine scent is so intoxicating and you’re so soft. the way you’re moaning his name right now is pure music to him, if he had it his way he’d stay like this forever. “c-cum inside! i want it all, baby!”

his eyes shoot open with shock when he hears that, did he hear you right? “y-you sure? i need you to be sure…” you nod, your lashes fluttering at him as your eyes beg for him to fill you until he can’t anymore. “oh f-fuck.” he groans, his breaking point reached as his hips begin to stutter. you feel his sticky load spill from his sensitive tip and flood your cunt, a creamy ring of your juices forming around him. you expect him to be exhausted after that, rubbing his back and placing a kiss to his temple, but he’s still hard inside you in fact harder than before.

“that wasn’t fair, princess…” he smirks as he flips you over onto your hands and knees, the cool sensation of the titanium making up his hand gripping your hip. “you didn’t cum. i need that needy little pussy of yours to cream on me at least once, or i won’t be satisfied.” his cock finds its place inside of you once more, this time his strokes more deliberate and intense. “besides, you wanted me to fuck your brains out, riiight?” he switches hands so that his robotic one can play with your clit, massaging the sensitive bud into tight circles. your legs begin to tremble as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure, his cock stretching you out with each powerful thrust, you can’t help but cry out. the muscles in your calves grow tight as you start to come close, the final nail in the coffin hit when caleb pushes down on your back so it’s arched more, causing him to hit deeper.

“gonna cum! gonna c-cum!!” you squeal, feeling caleb twitch inside you like before, this time his rhythm remains focused. your hips move on their own, now fucking yourself on his cock desperately to claim your high. “what a greedy lil thing, wanna cum that bad?” he chuckles darkly, his metallic finger buzzing against your clit. “go ahead, princess. you can take it.”

a.n: sorry but gonna stop here bc it’s getting long but yeah….hes so mean on the low NGH!! i thinks ill expand on his finger being able to vibrate in another post tehe. tysm for reading! if you enjoyed pls feel free to like, reblog and comment!! xoxo

tags: @awwgasm @zehrbear

[hauntedhokage]

Oh so you think you’re gonna open requests and me NOT send in a sylus request?? Huehueheueheue

Fluff prompt 7 and dialogue prompt 1 plssplspslspslpslsosls

the way you assume that i like you enough for this is insane. (spoiler: i love you)

“Ooooh, you love me.” “And what if I do?” + A stranger refers to you as “a sweet couple” and, awkwardly, neither of you deny it from YOUR PROMPT LIST

You hadn’t expected Sylus to actually want to h hang out with you at a busy festival, but here you were eating grilled vegetables off a skewer while he did the same. You’d originally suggested it as a joke, daring him to get out of his house and the N109 zone, but he’d taken you up on your date by showing up outside of your apartment building the morning after you’d returned from your mission.

And now you’re watching the sunset with vegetables in hand, exchanging casual conversation with your tall commission in between his relentless teasing.

“If there’s a fireworks site we should probably get to that hilltop so you can actually see them, sweetie.”

“I’m not that short!” Your defense has him laughing, even more so when you threaten him with the bamboo skewer that was now bare.

What you’re not expecting is for an older couple to walk by, musing about how they were once that couple that play fought over everything and how cute you and Sylus were. You weren’t playing with Sylus, genuinely willing to push your luck, but instead he just thanks them softly while pulling you into his side. Dumbfounded, you only look up at him in surprise at the false confirmation he gave, and he takes the opportunity to pull your weapon from your hand to throw away with his own.

“Fireworks.” The prompt has you nodding, walking with him as he guides you through the crowd until you’re atop the hill and standing in front of him So he could make sure nobody got in front of you.

“Why didn’t you correct them?” You ask the question that had been in your mind for the last few minutes, looking up at Sylus in time to catch his shrug.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Don’t answer my question with a-“ You stop short, coming to a new conclusion that you should’ve realized sooner. “Ooooh, you love me. Is that it?”

A chuckle leaves him, shaking his head as his arms drape themselves over your shoulders and he leans in close to your ear to murmur, “And what if I do?”

The kiss he places on your cheek lights up your eyes more than the fireworks ever could, but he still promote you to watch the show since he worked so hard to find the perfect spot.

[henry7931]

Head Swap Shorts

Borrowing My Son’s Body

Dan:

After I broke my leg, I wasn’t sure how I was going to make dinner for the family this year for big get together. Luckily, my son Sam had a great idea! Just borrow his body to get the job done.

So now I have Sam’s young body while he’s laying in my bed with mine on. The only thing that keeps throwing me off is how much I like having his body.

I feel weird to even think it but my son’s fit and it seems to get turned by the littlest of things. I really forgot what it’s like having a body this age I’ve had a boner all day long and I don’t really know what to do about it.

And now that I’m done cooking and the family shouldn’t be here for a couple more hours… I guess I can take care of it real quick?

So I went inside and went upstairs to check on Sam first. I carefully cracked the door to peak inside just in case he’s asleep— and to my surprise I see Sam literally jerking off and playing with my dick!!!

I almost said something but hey! I might as well do the same with his body.

So I headed to his room and stripped off all of his clothes. I looked down at my son’s perky junk and without any hesitation I started playing with it.

I start stroking his junk faster and faster. But in a matter of minutes, cum squirts out!

I clean off his body and walk to my room. This time I just walked right in.

Sam must of just finished up because he still had my dick out and was covered in my cum.

“Shit! Dad!!”

“Hey bud! Having fun in here?,” I say winking at him.

“Umm… yeah, sorry! This is isn’t what it looks like!”

“Listen son, it’s okay! I just finished up doing the same thing. Although, yours didn’t last that long. I wanted to see if we can stay like this until tomorrow.”

“Wow! Are you sure?”

“Yeah! I’m enjoying your body and it seems like you’re enjoying mine.”

I look down at my older dick and grinned at it.

Sam began to laugh and said, “yeah I like your body a lot. We can stay like this as long as you want dad.”

“Thanks son!”

Teddy

Christian:

Oh shit! I don’t know what to do. Here stands my uncle Cameron’s body withy freaking childhood teddy bear attached it. I was playing around with a couple of spells when he walked in and then this happened …

The weird part is his head isn’t communicating at all and yet it seems like the teddy bear is in control of his body.

I watched as the teddy bear feels up and down his new hairy arms down his new chest all the way to his legs thighs… he gets to my uncle’s junk and generally pats at it.

I watch as he tries to navigate his shorts he had on and gently peels them back. He put one of my uncle’s hands into his pants and begins peeing around.

“ hey can you hear me?” I asked the bear.

He stops for a second almost like he was looking up at me.

“So you can hear me,” I say to him.

He walks towards me and I feel a little nervous. I wasn’t sure what he was gonna do, but then he embraces me into a giant hug.

Not gonna lie it feels kinda good having my uncle’s big strong lawn wrapped around me. My uncle and I are very different. He’s a very stereotypical straight man, but one thing I would never actually admit is my attraction to his body.

I feel the teddy bear began to explore my body like he just did my uncles.

He gets to my bulge and begins to fondle out a bit. I taken my surroundings and realize it is just us in the room.

So I begin to fondle his junk as well.

We both eventually pull off our shorts. Standing close together, slowly, jerking each other off.

I begin to play with his nipples. I even put one in my mouth which is causes him to squirm a bit. I pull his body in for a tight hug. A rock hard dicks are rubbing up against each others. I squeeze his hairy ass.

He even does the same to me and then he does something that surprises me. I feel him insert one of my uncle’s fingers into my hole.

He does it so carefully, and if I didn’t know any better I think he’s done this before.

I say to him, “ let’s go to the room.”

I lead him to my uncle‘s bedroom and we both hop into bed.

I climb on top of him and make my way down to his dick. It’s a beautiful dick, thick and long complemented by a big hairy bush and big hairy balls.

I run my tongue from the head of it down to his ball sack. I get his dick, nice and wet before I get directly on top of it.

He helps me ease it into my hole. It’s just so tight getting in. But once we get going, he begins to start thrusting back-and-forth on me.

Moaning loudly and he’s using his hands to gently play with my cock.

I’m nearly screaming and our bodies are sweaty, and we can’t stop touching each other all over.

I turned my head around and I look at my uncle’s big hairy, stinky feet. I wanna suck on his toes so bad but I don’t wanna stop this moment.

 I watch his toes wiggle from excitement and it sends me over the edge. He’s thrusting in me faster and faster. He’s even going harder. I can’t take anymore, but somehow in the same time I cum and I feel his dick pour loads into my hole.

I looked down at my uncle‘s cum cover chest and I pull his dick out of me. His dick is still leaking and I even get a taste of it.

I turn around and lay back to my face or directly next to his feet. They take a big with his feet smell like a dirty gym. He just got back from a run earlier when he first walked in, and I realized he wasn’t even wearing socks.

I run my tongue up and down his soul. I realize it’s tickling the teddy bear a little bit.

A kiss each of his toes before I crawl my way back up. I feel him wrap his arm around me and I lean into my uncles chest.

I look up at the teddy bear and I say, “ do you want to stay this way forever?”

He gives me a thumbs up.

“Okay but we will have to work on your head. It’s cute but it will freak people out,” I say to him.

He pulls me in tighter and I can feel his fingers running up and down my back. Soon I fell asleep in his arms.

Two weeks later, Ted, which is what I like to call him now and I have gotten really close. He’s very smart and all they can’t speak. He does write to me.

I wanna show him so much, but I need to figure out how to change his head. I may be getting close in my spell book, but I want to be 100% sure.

So for now, me and Ted will just stay in the house. Honestly, it’s fine by me because the sex is amazing.

Coconut Head

Kent:

On vacation and something very strange happened to my older cousin. He was walking out back from the beach when all of a sudden a coconut fell off of a tree. It was so powerful that it knocked off his head and landed right on its shoulders.

I tried to help him pull it off, but it won’t move. We even took him to the hospital and they said just be patient. The coconut is on his neck so tight, but it will eventually loosen up. They said it could take weeks or even over a month.

So now I’m having to spend a lot of time taking care of my cousin’s body and his head.

Although it’s nice is if he does get a little sassy or bossy with me can always just leave his head in another room.

But what’s been really fun is while his head is away I get to explore his sexy body. My cousin is super hot and super ripped. I don’t even mind the coconut me and them because it lets me do whatever I want.

I’ll leave his head in another bedroom at night, which just leaves me in his body alone together. I’ll stay up all night, smelling and licking his pit and feet. Sucking off his cock licking his hole. I’ve even taught his body how to jerk me off and how to give a good foot job.

I’m not gonna lie I kind of hope the coconut gets stuck forever. He’s really talented with my cousin’s toes and he’s a great cuddler at night.

[ghostgirl-22]

Could i request a little something with patrick x fem art (or x reader if that makes you more comfortable) who has vaginismus, i have it and have been feeling really down about it recently because i cant have vaginal sex or masterbate without bleeding or wanting to cry.

Like i enjoy anal and can happily substitute but sometimes i wish someone would take their time to work me open and i really get to throw myself into it and be the slut i was born to be lol

Also so many guys treat it like a chore but i feel like patrick would understand and hed see it as a reward to get to fuck the person at the end and make them feel good because all pussy is good pussy and when he wants to make someone cum, hell find a way, hes determined!

Thank you for this anon! You’re so real…Patrick isn’t the type of guy to give up without at least a little bit of a fight <33

CW: 18+ !NSFW!

—-

You’re kinda kicking yourself for falling for it now. Patrick’s easy charm, his sense of humor, his looks. You’ve heard all the rumors. You know everyone says he’s got a big dick, that he’s promiscuous. It was okay before when you didn’t expect it to go anywhere. When you thought it was a little fun and flirting but he didn’t really like you. Not like that anyway.

But now you’re in his bed, his fingers tangled in your hair, you’re licking into his mouth. You can feel him, his cock. You’re wet and you’re horny, but you’re anxious at the same time. God if only it could be that fucking easy. You get wet, he gets hard and he fucks your brains out. But it’s not easy. It takes everything in you to pull away from him but you manage it.

“What?” He asks, eyes hooded, gazing over your face, your body. He looks hungry.

“Nothing, just… a little curious how the movie might end.”

He smiles. “Right. I thought you said you’ve seen Mean Girls like four times or something.”

“Uh well, I have a bad memory.”

He tangles his fingers into your hair. “Uh huh, god you’re so pretty. Are you a virgin?”

You glare at him.

“What? I don’t mean it any way… it just feels like you get nervous whenever we… get close.”

You don’t know why you say it. Maybe because he’s always so blunt with you. “It’s not that… it’s just…it’s difficult for me to have sex.” You blurt.

He chuckles but then settles a bit when he sees your face. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I thought you meant with me. Is that not what—“

You narrow your eyes and grip the sheets, irritated now. “It’s called vaginismus and it makes vaginal sex painful. Like even with lube it’s… um… hard to open up.”

“Mm,” Patrick says, curiously. Though now he’s blatantly staring at your lap. You’re still in your tennis skirt.

You’re starting to feel a little more embarrassed and uncomfortable. Why did you just tell the guy who’s supposed to be the local sex god that you’re fucking useless at vaginal sex. Why did you say vaginal? Or vag for that matter. Not once but twice. What the fuck were you thinking?

“Look, actually I’m just gonna go. I just remembered I didn’t finish that essay for Ms. Horne.” You say quickly, making excuses as you gather your things. You don’t really let him talk, which he seems to be amused by. You pop the movie out of the dvd player and by the time you’re out of there you’re dying of embarrassment. Certain he’ll tell all his bros about this. You’d been bullied before you started at MRTA, for your hair, for the way you talk, but now that you’re older the idea of being bullied for something sexual that you can’t even control makes you feel sick. You’re dreading what the boys will be saying about your condition.

You hide away in your room for most of the weekend. You only go to the lunch hall to grab things that you can eat in your room, like fruit and yogurt. Your roommate and best friend, the only other person you’ve told about it, feels bad and agrees to split a pizza order with you on Saturday night.

“Maybe he didn’t tell anyone.” Your friend suggests.

“Please it’s Patrick Zweig, he probably told Donaldson the moment he got back to the room.”

“Well they’re best friends— besides it’s a higher likelihood that he just tells everyone he hit it anyway.”

You wouldn’t necessarily want that— but it honestly beats the alternative.

”Honestly I wish we could’ve done it. I mean, his dick really is big like they say it is and I just wish I could… I don’t know… be a little bit slutty for a change. We’re gonna be in college next year.”

Your friend laughs. “You can— I believe in you. You just take a little more work. Which the perfect guy is definitely gonna appreciate.”

You’re starting to feel better towards the end of the weekend. Your friend confirms she hasn’t heard anything about you around school from Art Donaldson or anyone else Patrick is friends with. Sunday evening you're in bed watching Mean Girls again when you hear a knock on your door.

Confused you get up and pull open the door, expecting your floor captain but it’s Patrick standing there with his goofy little smirk and his backpack. “Hey.”

”Hey,” you say feeling your skin heat up with embarrassment remembering the other night. Not to mention your hair is a mess and you're in sweatpants. And not shapely sexy sweats, you’re in massively oversized sweats with old bleach stains.

“I snuck in, so can I…”

“Oh right,” you say, stepping aside to let him in the room.

He drops his book bag and leans in to kiss your cheek. “You look pretty.”

He has to be joking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as he lifts your sweatshirt.

“I don’t know… finishing what we started.”

“Huh?”

“The other day, when you left. You said it was difficult for you to have sex.”

“Uh well… I mean with the condition.” You stammer awkwardly.

“Yeah I know, I researched it,” Patrick says, smirking.

“You what?”

“I’m very studious,” he says, half smile on his lips.

“Uh,” you stutter as he gets to his knees and tugs at your sweatpants and then your panties. Within seconds he’s kissing your cunt. You’re moaning almost immediately as his tongue flits around your folds, teasing just below your clit. You can’t stop moaning and you hope your roommate plans to get dinner after the mall or she’s gonna come home to an eyeful. Every time you get close he withholds and soon you’re so wet and frustrated that you’re gripping his shoulders and practically riding his face trying to get off. That’s when you feel him teasing you with his fingers and you start to tense.

“Fuck,” he whispers. He doesn’t sound frustrated but you apologize anyway.

“Mm baby, don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.” He breathes.

“R-really?” You stammer, you’re kinda stunned and a bit emotional.

“Yeah really,” he says, his expression almost incredulous, like he’s surprised that you would even ask. Like it’s a given. “Just call me Dr. Zweig. World’s foremost pussy doc.”

Before you can make fun of him for that ridiculous statement hes working on you again, tongue teasing along your clit only this time. You can tell he’s started jerking himself off and that kinda puts you over the edge. You’re shivering, your walls spasming as orgasm rips through you.

He stands up when he’s done and gazes at you, tangling his fingers into your hair. God his skin is flushed and his eyes are sparkling. “You’re so beautiful,” he says and you want to say the same thing back, but your a little tongue tied.

He grabs his backpack and pulls out some lubricant, handing it to you. “Do you ever finger yourself?”

”Uh… sometimes but honestly sometimes it hurts so I get scared to.”

“Ah well try it tonight,” he says. “You can touch yourself and tomorrow I’m gonna come back and help you.”

You swallow, anxious and aroused at the idea of it. “Okay,” you take the lube. “What if um— what if it doesn’t work?”

He shrugs. “It’s gonna work. Even if it’s not tomorrow, we’ll fuck next week, or next month, or in six months. Or whenever. You really think I’m just gonna get this close to pounding your pussy and let vaginis— whatever it’s called beat me? No fucking way.”

You laugh, feeling a bit more relaxed already. “You’re such a pervert. But thanks.”

That night you try fingering yourself in the dark after your roommate falls asleep and it feels a little less painful after your fingers are coated in too much lube but you do bleed a little. You’re anxious and nervous to see him again.

The next night you sneak into his room. He claims his roommate is out with his girlfriend so you’ve got plenty of time. You bring the lubricant and it turns out that when he said he’d help you, he meant he’d meant he’d lie between your thighs and lick at your clit while you finger yourself in front of him. You’re trying to ease your fingers inside and play with yourself and all the while he’s distracting you from the discomfort of it… licking teasing tasting… it doesn’t take long before you’re coming. Your fingers are barely inside but you still feel your pussy quivering as you moan through your orgasm.

Patrick looks up from between your legs, hair messy, jewel colored eyes sparkling. “God you’re so sexy… I’ve been dreaming of this since I first met you,” he hums.

“I wish you could fuck me,” you sigh breathless.

His eyes light up. “How does it feel? Fingering yourself?”

“Tight,” you breathe. “But um… I’m um… I’m really wet so it’s uh… it’s going in.”

“Yeah,” Patrick’s looking down, sees your finger slipping in and slowly disappearing deeper inside your cunt. His dick is aching so much from watching you come that he’s dangerously close to rutting on your mattress. God, you’re gonna be the end of him. He’s never had to work this hard to fuck before. Barely had to work hard for anything in his life. He’s gonna savor this. “Keep doing that,” he says. “Except try two fingers tonight.”

*

He has an away match the next two nights. The boys varsity team made it to the state finals again. He calls you while he’s in his hotel room to ask how it’s going. You decide to do it on the phone with him. It takes you a while but you’re able to handle two fingers as he teases you, “Imagine you’re on my big cock, imagine you’re so full and it just feels good.” His voice is so soft it makes you shiver.

“Yes, yes, fuck me baby. I want your huge dick in me. Wanna be a slut for you,” you groan. You can hear him breathing heavy into the phone. God, he’s fucking touching himself too. You barely feel pain, just pleasure listening to him as he gets off and then you’re coming too… feeling your pussy spasm around your fingers.

When you come to his room the following night, you feel all shy and giggly. He pulls you in and kisses you. He says smoking might help calm you so you’re sitting by the window sharing a joint before he lays you down. He’s giving you head while you finger yourself again but this time he coats his fingers with lube and slowly works his way in alongside yours, he’s gentle, paying attention to your breathing, your expression, your cues. If you hold your breath he’s asking if youre okay? If you moan he’s asking if you like it? If you squeeze he’s gently telling you to relax. It takes time, he’s got it on MTV on and Real World was playing when you started but now Road Rules is on.

“Fuck,” you whisper, staring at the three fingers pressing inside you. Slowly dilating you. You remember feeling pain just with one. And the pain isn’t all gone but it doesn’t make you want to cry.

“Is it okay?” He asks. He can’t help himself. He’s grinding lightly up against the mattress.

“It feels… it kinda feels good.”

“Yeah?” He says excitedly.

“Mmhm,” you breathe. You press your fingers back and forth a little more quickly and he matches your pace. “Fuck I wanna take your cock.” You groan.

“Oh sweetie… I’m a little bigger than this…” he says, his tone light but his breathing heavy.

“I know… oh fuck… need you.”

“Lets try one more finger,” he says, anxious.

“Okay,” you’re at your breaking point, you don’t even realize it when he’s added another finger. You’re more fixated on the way his calloused fingers are bumping up against your clit as they flick back and forth relentlessly, it sounds slipperywet and obscene. And suddenly you’re coming. Hard. Moaning out expletives. Your toes curling tight. He’s aching for you, eases his fingers out, they’re coated with lube and your moisture. He can’t help tasting them.

“Mm I bought you something while we were away,” he says distractedly. You’re fixated on his cock. He’s tenting in his shorts and he’s right. He’s definitely bigger than the fingers you’re now able to take.

“You bought me something?”

He pulls a box out from under his bed. “I made Art go with me to the sex store.”

You laugh, and look at the image of a rainbow dildo on the box. “Oh wow.”

“I just read it helps to try and get used to opening up or whatever,” he says, and it’s almost like he’s nervous now. Actual Patrick Zweig getting nervous.

“Thanks for thinking about me,” you smile and he seems to relax.

“I’m always thinking about you,” he smirks.

“Want me to—“ you gesture at his erection and he licks his lips and nods his head eagerly as you bend over to take him in your mouth.

*

That night you coat the dildo with as much lube as you can and try to ease it in. It’s not crazy big which is good but you’re a little anxious, terrified that if you can’t get this to work you’ll never get to fuck him. You fall asleep feeling a little defeated and overwhelmed. You’re tense the following day but you spend the next evening with friends going to a movie. It helps a little to take your mind of things. As fun and sexy as it is doing this with Patrick every night you realize you’ve been focusing so much on it that you’ve been wound up a little tight.

You pull the dildo out again before bed and surprisingly you’re able to get it in. You let it stay there hoping it will stretch you out and that your insanely tight pelvic floor muscles will get used to the intrusion, even welcome it. After a while you start to slide it back and forth inside yourself. Trying to keep your head in the relaxed state it was in while you were having dinner with your friends. Soon you’re actively fucking yourself with it. Your breath hitching as your roommate snores not too far from you. You’re biting your tongue to keep yourself from moaning out loud. The next morning you text Patrick. Can we try it tonight?

He responds back literally one second later. Yeah come over.

He’s just out of the shower when you get there. You wrap your arms around him and breathe him in, he smells so good.

“How was the dildo?” He asks, smiling.

“Good… but I wanna try you.”

“Yeah I’m sure… no pressure okay?”

“Okay,” you say as he guides you backwards to his bed. He’s desperate to fuck you but he doesn’t want to hurt you so he’s taking his time, condom fitted tight, over doing it with the lubricant. You’re feeling antsy and eager. You had fun last night with the dildo but as you watch him you can tell he’s a little girthier. You swallow as he presses at your entrance. Maybe you can’t do this…

You feel him anchor himself and slowly he’s pressing into you. He’s not even halfway in when you’re achy and overwhelmed. “I— um— I don’t—“

“You need me to pull out?” He asks, quickly and you feel him slowly pulling back.

“No,” you say quickly, “can you just… can we stay here?” You ask.

“Uh,” he takes a breath.

”Just for a bit.”

“Uh yeah,” he’s breathless. “How about— how bout you lead?” He whispers. “Take as much as you need.” And before you both know what you’re doing you’re moving, pushing your hips up and down barely if ever proceeding beyond that point where you asked him to stop. You’re fucking yourself, practically using only half of his cock and yet it feels like so much more than the dildo. And after a minute it starts to feel good. His dick teasing along your clit, pressing heavy… back and forth inside your cunt.

”Is this okay, baby?” He whispers.

“Yes, so good,” you groan.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You’re so fucking tight baby. So fucking nngh— you’re squeezing me so tight. Feels so fucking good.” Patrick gasps. And then he’s jerking himself, while you’re basically fucking yourself onto him. Sometimes testing yourself to push your hips higher and get more of him inside. It doesn’t take long before you two are falling on each other, breathless in orgasm.

“Shit,” he sighs, falling onto his back.

You smile looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Did it feel okay?” He asks.

“So good,” you sigh and rest your head on his chest. He leans down to kiss your head and then tangles his fingers into your hair.

“Thanks for opening me up,” you whisper, breathless. “I know there’s probably a million other girls who woulda been ready to jump on it right away.”

“Mm I like the challenge,” he says, softly. “Speaking of… I think we got a lot more work to do.”

“We do?”

”Oh yeah, probably shouldn’t stop this any time soon. I’m really committed to a cure. The cure being turning you into a slut for my cock.” He teases.

You laugh. “Okay then pussy doc, what’s my next assignment?”

[itsabouttimex2]

Fizzling Neon

“…can I tell you something that bothers me?”

There’s not quite a sneer on your coworker’s face, but the expression he wears while turning to you is regardless unhappy. The man’s never much cared for your rambles, and especially not while the two of you were on kitchen duty.

Then, he’s never much cared for you in general.

But if he has to choose between his own thoughts (centering mostly on his ex-wife, if you had to guess) your awkward ramblings, or a droning and dead silence that was cut only by Chica’s muffled gorging, the gray-haired man would probably pick you, though he would do so reluctantly.

Very reluctantly.

“Well?” the aged man finally grunts, arms crossed as he leans back against the counter. His tense posture screams impatience, but at least he’s waiting for you to say something instead of outright ignoring you. “What is it?”

You hesitate, unsure if you should bother, even with his explicit approval. Your coworker doesn’t like you- he’s made that clear enough over the past four months. Still, there’s something gnawing at you, something you need to get off your chest before it eats you alive. A rattling clatter of pots and pans kicks up in the washing area, accompanied by incessant crunching noises- the avian animatronic must’ve gotten into an unfinished dish.

You don’t want to sound like some manic conspiracy theorist, of course- that type pops up on the premises of the Pizzaplex constantly, filming themselves as they harangue the workers and scare the children- only to scurry away when you pleaded with Monty to scare them off- the kids always got a kick out of that, at least.

Still, all antics aside… maybe talking about it would do you some good.

“…it doesn’t make any sense for them to be animatronics.”

He turns to you, sporting an expression that implies you may well have grown a second head, utterly dumbfounded by such an out of pocket (to him) statement.

His brows knit together tightly, lips twisting into a grimace that makes him look even less pleasant than he already does. “What in the blazing hell are you even talking about?” he finally asks, his voice a low growl that barely carries over the distant clang of metal on tile as Chica shuffles around.

You squirm for a moment, then spill in a hurried rush of words built around cobbled knowledge from your childhood.

“It’s just… these are… they’re robots. And, animatronics are, well, they… animatronics- real animatronics, I mean, they’re- they’re puppets! Animatronics are supposed to be puppets hooked to machinery hidden in the ground, machines that host the puppet’s programming for the routines they perform! They’re supposed to be fragile, breakable! You’re supposed to be able to shatter them, shove them around, pick them up and throw them- in case they break down and block people in an emergency! Or, or like… the design specs, in general, they’re- so like, if an animatronic closes around a kid’s hands, the design specs of these things are specifically built to be fragile enough to never exert enough force to hurt the kid! They’re not supposed to be able to move arcade machines, or jostle vending machines, or pick up kids! And-“

“You know what, kid? And I’m gonna be real level with you, just cause I don’t think the management bothers doing it when they really should- nobody gives half a damn about your autist bullshit. They were always called animatronics. From the first fucking pizzeria to the last pissing pizzaplex, they were animatronics, puppets, machines, and no one except for you gives a shit about the name they use. And look, you wanna obsess over this crap, fine. Just don’t bring it up with me again. Got enough on my plate without babysitting your paranoia about trivial corpo branding bullshit.”

He throws his soiled dishrag against the metal interior of the sink before him, then stomps off towards the staff room in order to punch out and head home, probably hoping to down a fifth of whiskey and pass out.

You stand there in shocked silence for a moment, throat tight and eyes growing wet, trying to compose yourself as the angry pounding of his footsteps fades away.

It hurts. You wish it didn’t hurt so bad, especially when the scorn comes from someone you don’t particularly know or care for, someone you know doesn’t particularly care for you.

You want to shove those painful feelings away, because you know if you dwell on it too long, you’ll start spiraling, and there’s no one here who wants to listen- not without mocking you or brushing you off.

Except- the sound of metal footsteps breaks your train of thought, and those steps are heavy and deliberate, echoing through the empty kitchen. You freeze, pulse quickening, because it’s late, nearly time to close, and you’re very certainly the last person in the pizzaplex.

“Oh, Superstar…”

His voice, as always, is smooth and warm, carrying an affectionate tone that he usually reserves for children. You don’t need to turn around to know who that soothing voicebox belongs to.

You swallow, hard, gripping the edge of the kitchen countertop as the sound of metal feet against porcelain grows louder. He’s close now, just behind you, and you feel the subtle hum of his mechanical frame, a strange, ever-present vibration that seems to radiate from him, and you are awash in the cyan hue that drifts from his mechanical body.

Glamrock Freddy.

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out at first. There’s a lump buried deep in your throat, and with it there’s a fear that if you try to explain yourself, you might break down entirely.

Freddy waits, a patience so unshakable it mirrors the steel he’s built from.

And he waits a little longer still, right up until there are tears brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill, and then one of his large paws reaches to bundle around the back of your head, holding it there as though he’s cradling something fragile, something precious.

At his gentle, synthetic touch your lips press tightly together, unwilling to speak for risk of breaking a dam that spills regardless, and as the first of many tears trickle down your cheek, Freddy’s thumb; soft with synthetic padding, swipes it from your face.

“That was very unkind of him, Superstar. I will be sure to report his behavior to management, for it is in violation of the rules of the Mega Pizzaplex.”

“N-no, Freddy, it’s fine. Really… really, it’s fine, and I don’t want to cause any trouble.

The ursine machine, so many warmth welling behind his eyes that the kitchen feels cold in comparison, he tilts his head, his illuminated blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly, not in anger but in something softer- concern, and to some degree even disbelief. He doesn’t move the heft of his hand, still cradling your head with the care of someone holding glass. “It is not fine,” he insists gently, voicebox unwavering. “Everyone within the Pizzaplec must treat one another with respect. The rules are very clear.”

A bitter laugh escapes you before you can stop it. “Yeah, well, rules don’t really stop people from being jerks, do they? Just… just please let it go, Freddy. It’s not worth it.”

There is a long, lingering moment where he continues to stare, eye lights drooped at your insistence on allowing things to be. But, finally, he lowers his hand, though his frame remains close, looming like a shield against the sterile, fluorescent lights kitchen. “Your feelings are worth it, Superstar,” he says after a beat. “But I will not push.”

Then he pauses, awkward and almost ashamed, then kneels to level his gaze to your own, and quietly speaks. “And I did not mean to eavesdrop on the staff, but I did overhear the management speaking to one another about the weather.

Oh. Oh no.

“So I wanted to tell you that a snowstorm is predicted, and, on behalf of the Pizzaplex, I wanted to extend you an invitation to stay overnight, since you do not have a way to get home if the bus is out.”

Oh, Cassie was going to be devastated.

Freddy straightens up at your lack of apparent response, his hulking frame towering over you once more, though his demeanor remains calm. “I spoke to the daycare attendant about preparing a bed for you- his residence has many cozy spots, and I believe you will find it suitable.”

You cringe when he mentions the daycare, snapping your thoughts from the soon to be birthday girl.

The attendant's dual personalities were a lot to handle during even just the day- but Moon's presence at night, especially, would be downright unnerving. But Freddy, gentle and unyielding, he turns you around with his big paws and nudges you towards the kitchen’s entrance.

The white doors swing open as Freddy pushes you past them, and the sounds of the nearly silent Pizzaplex greet you. The faint hum of machines powering down for the night drifts through the air, and the glittering lights of arcade machines flicker in the distance, while the mascots painted on the walls seem to grin down at you with their smiles.

It dawns on you now, staring up at the acrylic likeness of the lead animatronic that you hadn’t said yes to his offer, hadn’t quite stuck yourself through with the promise of a full night with the daycare attendant… and with Freddy going in the opposite direction, no doubt heading to his own room for the night… well, there wasn’t exactly anyone around to ensure that your footfall led you to the ever-unnerving nursery.

And, for that matter, a revelation dawning quickly upon you- you didn’t even know if the weather had started turning for the worse. If the storm was so bad that it would put out the local bus, sure, then you might not have a choice. But a light sprinkle wouldn’t kill you, and the lost and found wouldn’t mind you “borrowing” a jacket or scarf.

You turn toward the far end of the Pizzaplex, where the staff exit looms. You could just… check for yourself. There’s a strange, dread pang in your chest like the bite of an icicle, the notion that you might be caught going off-course, then returned to your path like an errant child.

Freddy surely wouldn’t mind you only checking out the window, would he?

Definitely not.

But still you step lightly, shoes squeaking faintly against the polished floor as the exit grew nearer and nearer. The Pizzaplex, as well as you've grown to know it, comes to feel unnaturally large when it’s this quiet- without at least a dozen children to draw your attention from the winding halls and the sprawling white floor, sometimes the place feels more like a labyrinth than a glorified daycare.

Though the twin doors come into reach without obstruction, there's still a prickling sense of unease that crawls the length of your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you reach for the silver handles.

Just a peek isn't going to hurt anyone, you tell yourself with a measure of false confidence.

It does not stop the trembling chill that races your heart to pump erratically as you make the move to push the doors open, and your skin grows colder still at the sight before you.

Snowflakes.

Fluffy, chunky snowflakes, cascading from the sky in a relentless flurry, the parking lot and roads already blanketed in white. The wind howls, biting and sharp. The city looks almost like a desolate tundra, smeared in thick strokes of white. The last bus is nowhere to be seen, likely sent back to the station early to avoid the storm.

You pull harshly on the doors, snapping them shut to prevent a gale wind from blowing through, to prevent snow from spilling onto the tile, and then you turn back, resigning yourself to a long night in the daycare, and then there’s a flicker of movement in the reflection of the chilled glass. You freeze, breath hitching sharply.

Slowly, you turn around, expecting to see Freddy or perhaps one of the staff bots patrolling the area.

And there is no one around.

Not that you can see, at least.

But the sound -faint, metallic clicking- tells you something is near. It’s sharply deliberate, like the tapping of long nails against glass.

And then a gangly shadow falls over you, dragging half of a shriek out of your lips right before you slap your hands over them.

Your head snaps up, eyes wide, and there, in a fluid arc of motion, leaping from the ceiling, is Moon, his painted grin wide and unsettlingly toothy in the dim lighting. He cast an eerie silhouette across the room as he lands upright with barely a thud, tilting his head to regard you.

“Why are you out of bed?”

“I was just…”, you start to say, but the words catch in your throat as he draws nearer. “I was only…”

“You know it’s against the rules to wander, don’t you?”

Your heart races as you stumble back, desperate to put distance between yourself and the unsettling animatronic. For all that you (and perhaps none but you and Cassie shared this feeling) had a soft spot for Sun, there was no denying that Moon had grown strange of late, often over-bolstering his “child-caring protocols”, to the terror of his many, many charges. Too often you had to step in and watch over them in his place just to ensure the kids would get some measure of sleep.

“I-I… no, i was just… just checking the weather,” you stammer, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh, checking the weather!” he repeats, his tone exaggeratedly bright and overly cheerful, though there’s an unmistakable edge beneath it. “But the rules are very clear- no wandering after hours! And you wouldn’t want to break the rules, would you, Starlight?”

That nickname doesn’t feel the same way that “Superstar” feels, not as warm or bright or genuine.

…but it’s still nice (admittedly less so under these circumstances) to have someone care enough to give you a moniker- and unlike Freddy, who simply maintained that everyone he liked was his special “Superstar”, the lunar half of the daycare attendant was far more reserved with his affections.

If he had let that feeling grow a little longer, that slow drift of bubbling warmth rising around your heart, maybe you wouldn’t have screamed out even past the barriers of your hands as he lunged forward and snagged his thin fingers around each side of your waist.

Instead, you simply shriek and kick.

That doesn’t stop Moon from lifting you slowly, his grip more than firm enough to make escape impossible. He tilts his head, his painted grin never wavering, though there’s something unsettling about the way his glowing red eyes seem to scan every inch of you, as if gauging your intent.

“No screaming,” he chides softly, his voice lowering to a whisper that echoes unnaturally in the empty Pizzaplex. “You’ll wake everyone up. Naughty, naughty.”

Your breath hitches as you struggle against his unyielding grip, your hands clawing uselessly at his smooth, cold arms. Moon holds you aloft effortlessly, his glowing red eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes your stomach twist.

“Please,” you manage to croak, weak voice trembling. “I- I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to cause trouble! I just… I just wanted to see if the storm was bad.”

His metal grin remains fixed, the crescent of his face gleaming faintly in the low light. “Storms are dangerous, Starlight,” he murmurs, his voice mechanical but almost sing-song, and still dripping with a strange condescension. “You could get lost. Hurt. It’s better to stay where things are safe.”

There is an unsteady pulse pounding through your chest now, a staccato rhythm that you’re certain he can sense. His glowing red eyes narrow, and his rictus grin; for all that it is fixed in place by steel, seems to grow wider.

He cradles you closer, the warmth of his metallic hands seeping through your uniform. The hum of his inner workings vibrate faintly, a reminder of the sheer difference between your anatomies. His voice drops lower, head leaning in to hiss lowly in your ear.

“And safe,” he whispers, “means staying close to me, Starlight.”

[honeyscara]

—Hq! Pretty setter squad reacting to you calling them your favorite setter

ּ ֶָ֢.Sugawara Koushiּ ֶָ֢.

It was a quiet afternoon in the gym as you helped Sugawara organize drills. He was laughing as he teased you about being forced into helping him out.

“Honestly, I’m just a benchwarmer these days. But hey, maybe I’ll make a comeback and show Kageyama who’s boss,” he joked, throwing a stray volleyball into the basket.

You paused, tilting your head as if considering his words. “You know… you’re my favorite setter, right?”

The ball he was holding slipped from his hands and hit the floor with a soft thud. Sugawara turned to you, wide-eyed, and for the first time since you’d known him, completely at a loss for words.

“W-Wait, really? Over Kageyama? You’re not just saying that because I bribed you with snacks or anything, right?” he asked, cheeks flushed as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“I’m serious, Suga. You’re a great setter and a great leader. Kageyama’s good, but you’re my favorite.”

His expression softened, and a smile spread across his face—one so genuine it made your heart flutter. “You’re gonna make me cry if you keep saying stuff like that.”

The rest of practice, you caught him sneaking glances at you, his smile never fading.

ּ ֶָ֢.Kageyama Tobioּ ֶָ֢.

The stands were packed as Karasuno battled it out on the court. Kageyama was in his element, setting up spikes like a machine. You leaned over to the person next to you and said, loud enough for him to hear, “Kageyama is the best setter—no contest!”

After the match, you were wandering down the hallway when a familiar voice called out, “Wait!”

You turned to see Kageyama jogging toward you, his hair damp with sweat. His face was a little pink, though you couldn’t tell if it was from exertion or something else.

“Did you… did you really mean that? What you said up there?” he asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Of course I meant it. Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

He looked away, fidgeting with the cap of his water bottle. “I don’t know. I just— I’m not that great. There are better setters out there.”

You stepped closer, forcing him to meet your eyes. “You’re my favorite setter. That’s all that matters, right?”

His lips parted slightly in surprise before he muttered, “Thanks… I guess.” He stalked off, but you swore you saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

ּ ֶָ֢.Kenma Kozumeּ ֶָ֢.

“Left, left!” you yelled, watching Kenma guide your team to another victory. He was calm and collected as always, his focus unwavering. When the game ended, the two of you plopped down on his couch, controllers still warm from the intense session.

“You’re getting better,” he mumbled, barely looking at you as he fiddled with the console settings.

“Thanks, but I think it’s because you’re such a good setter,” you replied casually. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”

Kenma paused, his fingers hovering over the buttons. He turned to you, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you trolling me?”

“No, I’m serious. You’re amazing at this game, and you’re an amazing setter too.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze flicking between you and the screen. Finally, he muttered, “Thanks.” It was quiet, almost shy, but the slight curve of his lips didn’t go unnoticed.

ּ ֶָ֢.Akaashi Keijiּ ֶָ֢.

You watched as Akaashi expertly set up Bokuto’s spikes, his movements smooth and precise. During a break, you walked over and handed him a water bottle and towel.

“Thanks,” he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“You know,” you began, “you’re my favorite setter.”

Akaashi froze, the towel halfway to his face. “Oh? That’s… kind of you to say,” he replied after a moment, his tone calm but his ears slightly pink.

“I mean it. Watching you set is like watching art in motion.”

He nodded, seemingly unaffected, but you caught the subtle quirk of his lips. “I appreciate that.”

Later, Bokuto loudly exclaimed, “Akaashi’s been in such a good mood today! What happened?” Akaashi simply glanced your way, his expression unreadable but his eyes warm.

ּ ֶָ֢.Oikawa Tooruּ ֶָ֢.

“Don’t I have the most perfect sets? Come on, admit it,” Oikawa teased, leaning against the bleachers with his signature smug grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine! You’re my favorite setter, okay? Happy now?”

Oikawa blinked, his smirk dropping. “Really?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, a rare moment of genuine surprise and emotion crossing his face. Then, his grin returned, brighter than ever. “Of course I am! I mean, who else could it be?”

Despite his usual bravado, you noticed him glancing at you throughout the rest of practice, his expression unusually soft.

ּ ֶָ֢.Atsumu Miyaּ ֶָ֢.

“C’mon, say it. Admit that I’m the best setter you’ve ever seen!” Atsumu called out, his voice echoing in the empty gym as you helped clean up after practice.

You groaned, finally snapping, “You’re my favorite setter! Happy now?”

Atsumu froze, his grin widening as he stared at you. “What was that? Say it again, darlin’!”

“Don’t push your luck.”

He sauntered over, practically glowing with pride. “I knew it! Ya can’t resist my talent, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored him, but he was insufferably smug for the rest of the day. Later, you caught him texting someone, probably Osamu, with the biggest smile on his face.

[oddyseye]

I like to think that Diomedes just sees Achilles as a child and that absolutely plays into this dynamic. Picture Achilles in battle, running up to Diomedes mid-slaughter to yell, “Did you see that throw? Perfect form, right? What do you think? Scale of one to ten?” And Diomedes, who just impaled two men without breaking stride, goes, “Eight. Could’ve been faster.” Achilles stands there, offended.

Achilles, divine golden boy of the Achaeans, struts onto the battlefield like he’s Zeus’ gift to humanity, taking down Trojans left and right, covered in glory (and blood), fully expecting the camp to erupt into cheers and Diomedes to bow down and say, “Truly, you are the greatest among us!” But Diomedes? Diomedes just pats him on the shoulder and says, “Good effort, kid. Keep working on that footwork.”

Achilles is livid. He’s standing there, chest heaving, while Diomedes calmly polishes his sword like he didn’t just hear the most insulting thing ever uttered. Achilles storms back to his tent, ranting to Patroclus: “He said I need to work on my FOOTWORK! Does he not SEE what I just did out there? Does he not KNOW who I am?” Meanwhile, Diomedes is completely unbothered. Achilles pulls off some insane, god-tier stunt the next day — leaping over a chariot, killing six Trojans mid-air — and Diomedes doesn’t even flinch. He just raises an eyebrow and says, “Flashy. But maybe try aiming for the guy holding the reins next time. It’s more efficient.” One night, after another long day of Diomedes’ casual critiques, Achilles corners him by the campfire and snaps, “Do you have any idea who I am?” Diomedes doesn’t even look up. “Yeah. You’re the kid who’s gonna get himself killed if he doesn’t start listening.” Achilles is so stunned he can’t even respond, and Diomedes just calmly bites into an apple like he didn’t just wreck the pride of a demigod. I’m writing this because too many people are out here acting like Achilles was this mature, brooding warrior-poet type from the start, when in reality, he was a teenager. A very deadly, very divine, very dramatic teenager — but still a teenager. You really think that ‘You dishonor me, Agamemnon!’ tantrum was adult behavior? No. That was peak ‘slam the door, yell I didn’t ask to be born, and then write bad poetry about it’ energy.

im a sucker for an achilles that kind of hates diomedes. because like theyre SO different, achilles is full of divine power and fate and hubris and diomedes is just. a guy. but they fill the same purpose within the ranks. like achilles prides himself on taking down hundreds of trojans each battle and fully expects no one to be able to do the same. and then diomedes does. and the men love him, they respect him, they talk about him around their fire pits after the day's combat is done recounting how terrifying he is on the field or what great feat he performed. like i just know achilles kind of hates him. stealing the spotlight and all. like i can just imagine achilles complaining to his mom like 'tydides!! is stealing!!! my thunder!!!' and thetis just. 'patience. okay?' and achilles >:(

[butlervibesonly]

𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑇’𝑆 𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑅𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇, 𝑀𝐴𝑀𝐴 || 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐭 || Austin! Elvis story

PREVIOUS PART <- NEXT PART coming soon…

• SUMMARY: Y/n’s father has enough of Elvis “ruining” his daughter but so does Y/n. She has enough of her father telling her what to do or not to do, so she just leaves.

• PAIRING: Austin! Elvis x female reader

• WARNINGS: arguing, slight angst, typos

• NOTE!! My acknowledge of Elvis is not so big, all things I know are from movie, documents, webs etc! So I deeply apologize for any mistakes/typos/misunderstanding that have nothing to do with reality. All of this is fic and has nothing to do with no one or anything. Based just on Austin's role of Elvis!Thank you for understanding! 🫶🏼

As weeks passed, you met Elvis more than 5 times again. You two spend some time in Graceland, or he took you to the backstage of his concert…. You were and are living the dream of any other girl your age. With that, your education dropped a little. You couldn’t basically study because only thing stuck in your mind is Elvis.

The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the tense silence. You are sitting by the table with your mother and father, his arms cross, his face red with frustration. Your university sent your parents a letter about a downfall of your grades. And they, especially your father, blames Elvis for that.

“Y/n, I don’t know what’s gotten into you!” he barks. “Your grades are slippin’, you’re missin’ assignments—this isn’t the daughter I raised!”

You take a deep breath, being in disgust. You don’t even want to finish dinner. “I’m still me, papa. I’m just... figuring things out.”

“Figuring things out!?” he echoes, his voice rising. “By skippin’ study sessions to fool with some… singer?! That man’s got you fooled, Y/n! He’s nothin’ but trouble!”

“That’s not true!” you shout back, your voice trembling.

“Y/n…” your mother starts to step in.

“He’s kind, and he cares about me—more than you do!”

Your mother stands up nervously “Maybe we should—”

“No!” he snaps, cutting her off. “She needs to hear this! That boy doesn’t care about her future! All he cares about is himself!”

Your eyes start to fill with tears, but you refuse to let them fall. “You don’t even know him!” you sob quietly. “He’s nothing like that. He believes in me!”

Your father slaps his hands into the table. “Believes in you to do what?! Throw away your education?! Your dreams?! For what, huh!? A few weeks of feelin’ special?”

“Papa, stop!” you cry out, your voice breaking. “You don’t understand! For the first time in my life, I feel like I can breathe, like I can be myself. With him, I’m not just some perfect little daughter trying to live up to your expectations!”

Your father’s expression hardens, his jaw tightening. “And what about your future? Are you just gonna toss it all away because some boy tells you what you want to hear?”

“It’s not like that!” you shake your head. “He supports me! He wants me to be happy, to figure out what I really want. Why can’t you do that?”

Your father’s voice drops, low. “Because I know where this road leads, Y/n. You think I haven’t seen this before? A man like him will take everything you’ve got and leave you with nothin’.”

“You know what, papa!? Since I’m such a trouble to you, I will leave! I will be with him because he will give me the love you’ve never given me!” you shout out, making the house silent. Your father stares at you for a while, his jaw clenching.

“Go, if you want. But if he tosses you away because he’s tired of you, don’t bother coming back.”

You stare at him, chest heaving. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Your mother gasps. “Y/f/n, don’t say that—”

“No, mama,” you begin, your voice steadier now. “If papa won’t trust me, won’t let me make my own choices, then maybe I need to leave.”

Your father’s face darkens, watching you as if you weren’t his little girl anymore but a big bug that needs to be stepped on.

“You can’t stop me now,” you say, chin lifting defiantly. “I’m not a child anymore. I’m all grown up. And if I have to leave to have a life of my own, then I will.”

Your mother steps forward, her hands wringing nervously. “Darling, please, let’s just talk about this!”

You shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks now. “I’ve already made up my mind.” You walk upstairs into your room. Taking out the suitcases from beneath your bed, you start packing your stuff in it.

That night you called Elvis, telling him what happened and asking him if you can come to Graceland next day. Elvis, as you expected, said yes because - Graceland has its door open for you anytime.

The next day, as you are about to leave, your mother stop you for a moment. “Y/n, rethink this, please…” she begs, her hands on your shoulders. “That’s all right, mama… I know you’re nothing like papa, but I gotta go. I can’t live like this anymore…”

Your mother looks deeply into your eyes, as they fill with tears. She nods, understanding why you made that decision. “Yeah… Yeah, I guess it’s time for ya to spread your wings.” she says, pulling you into a tight hug. “My arms are always opened for you, Y/n. Just call me sometimes, so I know you’re alright.”

You nod, promising this to your mother. Suddenly you hear a familiar sound of Elvis’ pink Cadillac pulling up by the driveway of your house. You let go of your mother and take suitcases into your hands. “Thank you, mommy. I’ll be alright I promise.” you say, seeing tears escaping your mother’s eyes.

She just stands there, watching as you leave. As you walk to Elvis’ car he notices you carrying the bags and suitcases. He immediately gets out of the car and helps you. “Hi doll, you ‘aight?” he asks, taking the suitcases from you.

“Yea… Let’s just… leave.” Elvis waits for you to be seated in the passenger seat and close the door, before getting into the drivers seat. You look at your house for the last time, seeing your father watch you leave from the window, his arms crossed at his chest.

As Elvis starts driving away from your house, taking you to Graceland, you sit in the passenger seat beside him, fingers nervously twisting the hem of your dress. You gaze out the window, thoughts a whirl of emotions that you can’t seem to stop.

Elvis glances over at you, his jaw set in the way it always is when he is trying to figure something out. His knuckles tap lightly against the steering wheel, keeping time with the radio, though his attention is clearly elsewhere. He then stops the radio, as he needs to focus.

“Alright, darlin’,” he lets out finally, his voice soft but tangled with curiosity, “you gonna tell me what exactly happened?”

You sigh, your shoulders slumping. “Papa and I had fight last night as I said yesterday to telephone,” you admit, your voice quiet. He glances at you again, concern flickering in his eyes. “Yeah? ’Bout me, wasn’t it?”

“Not just you…” you clear out quickly, though the guilt is still clear in your tone. “It was about... everything. My grades, my future. He thinks I’m throwin’ my life away.” Elvis shakes his head in disbelief, his lips curving into a wry smile. “Sounds like he’s got his mind made up ’bout me, huh?”

You turn to look at him, your expression softening. “I was trying to prove him he is wrong about you. I tried to explain him everything. How much you want me to be happy, how much you love and how much you care.”

He chuckles softly, though there is a trace of sadness in his tone. “You’re sweet to say so, but men like your daddy? They see a fella like me and figure they’ve got it all worked out. Singin’ for a livin’, out late at night, women hollerin’ my name—I don’t exactly scream ‘reliable,’ do I?”

“It’s not fair,” you say, your voice rising slightly. “You’re not like that. You’re not just some... some selfish, reckless boy. You’re kind. You listen to me. You make me feel like I matter.”

His fingers tighten briefly around the steering wheel, and he glances at you again, his expression softening. “Ya do matter,” Elvis confirms. “Don’t let nobody make you feel otherwise, least of all your own daddy.”

You look down at your lap, throat tightening. “He doesn’t see it that way. He said I can go with you, but so I don’t bother coming back when you are tired of me…”

Elvis’ brows furrows and he shakes his head. “That’s harsh!” he laughs at your father’s naive attitude. “Doll, I will never get tired of ya. No matter what ya do, I will never throw ya away like this.”

You look up at him. “I couldn’t stay in that house no more, Elvis. I couldn’t keep bein’ the perfect little girl he wants me to be, never makin’ my own choices, never takin’ a chance on what I want.”

“What do ya want then, Satnin?” he asks, his voice quiet now.

You hesitate, as this question hits you again. But this time you know what you want – finally. “I want a life that’s mine. I want to make my own mistakes, find my own way. And right now... I want life with you in it.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, his thumb tapping the wheel. When he speaks, his voice is soft. “You sure, darlin’? That ain’t a light decision. Leavin’ your parents, comin’ with me—it’s a whole different world.”

“I know,” you reply firmly. “But I’ve already made up my mind.”

Elvis lets out a breath, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Well, I’d be a fool to say no to spending a life with ya.”

You smile softly, your heart filling with warmth and love. He reaches over to grab your hand, and briefly squeezes it. “Alright, then. Let’s get you settled, love.”

As Elvis pulls up in front of Graceland, you feel a strange sense of familiarity settling over you. Graceland in its own beauty with gentle hum of life looks just like the first time you’ve been there. This time, it almost feels... welcoming.

“Well, welcome home.” Elvis breathes out. “C’mon, darlin’. There’s somethin’ I wanna show ya.”

You widen your eyes when stepping out of the pink Cadillac, the crunch of driveway beneath your feet. “Something? What is it?”

Elvis just winks, grabbing your suitcases from the trunk. “You’ll see. Mama’s been fussin’ over it all mornin’.”

Inside of Graceland you are hit by the warm, that is wrapping around you like a hug. Gladys appears in the hallway, wiping her hands on her apron, her face lighting up when she sees you.

“There you are, sweetie!” she exclaims, pulling you into a tight hug. “Hello,Gladys,” you say, sharing the hug, cheeks warming.

Gladys pulls away from the hug, looking at you. “My poor girl, what has gotten’ into your papa…?” she asks, her hands on your shoulders. You just shake your head, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

“I see... Now, come on, both of you. We’ve got somethin’ to show you.” You glance at Elvis, but he just grins and motion for you to follow Gladys. She leads her upstairs, to a room she hadn’t been in before.

Gladys push to open the door. You step inside, your breath catching. The room is small but cozy. It looks like one big closet with all things that a girl like you needs. There is a table with big mirror, a vase with roses standing there, and closet revealing a few dresses.

You turn to them, your mouth opening and closing as you search for words. “What... what is this?”

Gladys chuckles. “It’s for you, honey. Figured if you’re gonna be spendin’ time here with us, you oughta have a space that’s yours. Somethin’ to make you feel really home.”

You look at Elvis, your eyes wide, almost filled with tears. “Did you do this?” He shrugs, a smirk appearing on his face. “Mama did most of it. I just helped a little.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Gladys says with a laugh. “He was right there pickin’ out those dresses, makin’ sure we got the colors you’d like.”

Your cheeks burn as you turn back to the room, tears falling from your eyes. “I don’t know what to say. This is... it’s too much.”

“It ain’t too much,” Elvis says gently, stepping closer. “You deserve the best. Figured you could use a place to breathe, y’know? A place that feels like it’s yours.”

Tears falls from your eyes, and you quickly wipe them away, laughing softly. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Maybe not,” Elvis says with a grin. “But I wanted to.” Gladys touches your arm lightly. “You settle in, sweetheart. Lunch will be ready in an hour.”

With that Gladys disappears down the hall, leaving the twi of you alone. You turn to Elvis again, shaking your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you did this.”

Elvis wraps his arms around you, his chin resting on your head. “You need to know that you got people in your corner now. Whatever you’re dealin’ with, you ain’t gotta do it alone. I will take the best care of ya, darlin’.”

Your chest tighten, and you step forward, wrapping your arms around him in response. He holds you close for just a moment, relaxing, his hands resting lightly on your back. “I will make sure you graduate the college, so your papa doesn’t sue me,” he says making you laugh. “You will have everythin’; everythin’ you’ll need or want. You’re in best hands, love.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, looking up at him. “Anytime, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and warm. For the first time in months, you let an exhale, the weight of the argument with your father easing just a little. You are not sure what the future holds, but in this moment, you feel like you might finally be able to find your place in it.