#I'll be seein' ya

[chicalepidoptera]

Venetian, contemporary of Tintoretto's

Inspired by this gif set by @romaroy 🤡🕯

[slut4megantheestallion]

"Mine to ruin" - Jinx (arcane)

Mdni. Bottom!reader, strap-on usage, Dom!Jinx, wlw, wlw x reader, teasing, dirty talk, Doggystyle, breeding kink.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐

The dim neon lights painted by the walls in shifting hues, pulsing in the time in with your heartbeat. The mattress beneath you creaked, your mascara messed up from the hot kissing you had with jinx before you ended up in the ended up in bed in a doggystyle position. Jinx pressed her body against yours, her fingers trailing over the back of your skin like she was memorizing every inch.

"Damn, sweets..." her voice was a low, sultry purr. "Look at you. Bent over for me. With my cock inside of you, just beggin' to get wrecked. You're so good for me, y'know that?"

Her hands roam, fingers digging into your hips as she rolled her hips against you thrusting into you, slow at first, teasing, making you whimper as you whimper in frustration as you grip on the bed for some stability.

"AH~ Fuck! Jinx wants more, baby! Harder!~" You moan loudly impatiently as jinx chuckles at how desperate you are.

"Aww, you want more? What, this ain't enough for ya, slut?" She giggles, breath warm against your ear. "Nah, I think I wanna hear you beg for it first, toots~"

She pulled back, stopping just to let you feel the loss of her, making you arch towards her, desperate for friction. That's when she slammed the strap back into your core,sharp and deep, tears flowing in your eyes as hold tighter to the bed sheet as the bed creaked loudly, her fingers pressing bruises into your skin.

"F-Fuck, that's it. Take it, sweets. Take all of it." Her voice wavered, but the smugness never left. She loved watching you fall apart for her.

Jinx let's out a breathy chuckle, her pace unrelenting as she leaned over you, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"Y'ever think about it?" She murmured. "Me... breeding you with cum and puttin' a baby in ya? Filling ya up real good 'til you're all swollen with me?"

Your breath hitched, a whimper past your lips turned on by the imagination of being pregnant and having jinx's babies, and jinx heard it. She felt it. And oh, she loved it.

"Ohh, you do like that, huh?" She giggled, nipping at your neck. "You want me to knock ya up, don'tcha? Wanna be my perfect little breedin' bunny, all around 'n full for me?"

Her thrusts grew rough, deeper, her nails scraping down your back as she groaned, "Fuck, sweets... If I could, I'd stuff ya full of me, make sure ya can't walk straight, 'til everyone knows who ruined ya."

You gasped, hands clutching the sheets, and jinx smirked at how easy it was to unravel you. She gripped your chin, forcing you to turn your head just enough so she could kiss you, messy and desperate.

"I love seein' you like this," she purred against, your lips. "You're mine, sweets. Ain't nobody gonna touch you but me. And if they try? Heh... well, guess I'll just have to put a baby in ya so they really get the message."

Her laughter rang in your ears as she pushed you right to the edge, her voice dripping with possessions, obsession, love.

"C'mon, be good for me, sugar... Let me see you fall apart for me again."

And oh, you did.

Jinx didn't let up. Even when your body trembled beneath her, even when you gasped for breath, she just grinned and kept going, rolling her hops slow and deep, feeling the plastic toy, watching you twitch beneath her.

"Mmm, don't tell me you're done already?" She teased, finger dragging down your spine, making you shiver. "C'mon, sweets, you can hand a little more, can't ya?"

She leaned over you, pressing kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your jaw- each one soft, almost loving, a sharp contrast to the way she was stilling rocking into you, drawing out every little whimper, every sharp inhale.

"Told ya, I ain't stoppin' til I'm sure you get it," she murmured against your skin. "Mine. Every part of ya. Ain't no one else ever gonna touch you like this."

Her grip tightened on your hips, her movements growing rougher as you felt the silicone of the strap, like she was trying to mark you from the inside out.

"Fuck, sweets, I wish I could fill you up for real. Watch you get round with me, all full 'n perfect."

Her words shiver down your spine, heat pooling deep in your core, and jinx felt it l because she laughed, breathy and smug.

"Ohh, you really like that, huh?" She cooed, pressing a hand to your stomach, fingers splaying out possessively. "Can practically feel ya squeezin' me everytime I talk about knockin' ya up. You're so easy, sweets. So fuckin' cute."

She pulled back just enough to slap your ass, the sharp sting making you yelp out in pain and pleasure, and she giggled, absolutely delighted.

"I could do this all night, sugar. Keep ya right here, nice 'n needy, fuck you 'til you're cryin' for me."

And with the way she was moving, the way she was whispering filthy things into your ear, you knew she meant it.

Jinx had no intention of stoppin until she'd wrung every last bit of pleasure from you- until you were shaking and gasping and utterly wrecked.

And honestly? You didn't want her to.

(Based on the jinx idea post I posted a few days ago, instead of her fucking you on the couch I changed it into the bed, instead.

[shotmrmiller]

simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.

gambling's illegal, you know.

thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.

a veterinarian.

good thing we're all dogs here, then.

he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.

seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.

what, did they guy like steal them or something?

no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.

incredible. (that's insane.)

he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.

lemme take ya out, love—

don't call me that.

and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—

stop talking, simon.

and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.

a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)

with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."

he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"

always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"

the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.

there's never any rest for the wicked.

"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"

the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.

"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."

you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"

his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."

he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"

"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.

"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.

the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.

"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.

black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"

simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."

you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."

he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"

his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."

johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.

pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."

you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"

he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"

"stop talking, simon."

johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.

--

this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.

simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.

even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.

"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.

pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.

simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.

heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.

he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.

"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.

johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."

he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.

oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.

"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.

simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"

he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."

you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.

"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.

"shit, let me go get my medbag."

he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."

a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.

"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.

"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."

you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.

[mattslolita]

꒰ dealer!chris sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons ( 2 ) !

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

꒰ SFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ offer to take bambi home on the first night they ever met — you're skeptical though, because you still live with your parents, and chris wasn't exactly well . . . the type you bring home to mom and dad.

"aw c'mon, can't drop ya off at home? why's that?"

"um...i'm not sure how my parents are gonna react cause y'know...just park down the street!"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ sneak through your window all the time, mostly at night after he's gone a deal and wants to just chill with you.

"chris! can you at least text me to let me know you're coming?!"

"s'cute seein' you all scared when i come up, though."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ call you bambi alot when you first start talking, because he enjoys seeing how easily flustered you get from the nickname. he loves the way you clench your thighs and look away with a shy smile.

"hey bambi, don't get all shy on me, sweetheart."

"sorry..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ get scared and confused when bambi randomly begins to cry or tear up — he's not used to you showing so much emotion all the time, so he's actively always wondering if he's done something wrong and figuring out a way to calm you down.

"fuck, why are you cryin'? did i say somethin' wrong? did i do somethin'? talk to me, kid."

"it's just the picture of you and matt...you guys looked so cute when you were younger!"

"for fucks sake, bambi..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ immediately make it known that he's not all for putting labels on anything — you're a little intimidated by him and what he does anyone, so you're thankful for it at first.

"i know we're like fuckin' and whatnot but...y'know i'm not ready to uh, call you my girlfriend or anythin' like that..."

"no i understand! it's cool..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be very hesitant to take bambi on deals with him — he doesn't want to risk your safety, especially this early into you guys'. . .situationship ( ? )

"please, chris? i swear i can help! i'll get whatever bag you need me to get, while you count the money-"

"kid, you don't even know what half this shit is."

"i wanna go with you, now!"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ buy bambi small gifts to start off, because he's not exactly sure about what kind of things you like yet.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ ask matt small details about bambi so he could get a feel of how to act around you and what things he should start doing for you — matt knew immediately he was already becoming down bad for you.

"so like uh, what kind of shit is bambi into, bro? like, does she fuck with movies and shit, or what?"

"don't you think that's the kind of thing you should be askin' her yourself?"

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ never do anything bambi would be uncomfortable with doing — believe it or not, you were a virgin when you met him.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ in the beginning, bambi was only comfortable with doing over the clothes things — he'd let you grind on his thigh until you came,

"s'good baby, all fucked out on my thigh...come on angel, cum for me..."

✦ or he would use your vibrator on you, watching you squirm around in his lap when he turned it up and watched your toes curl at the sensation.

"oh fuck chris, please..."

"doin' so good mama, that feel good, huh?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ take it easy with bambi once you tell him you want to try oral sex with him now — which leads to the very first time he's ever eaten you out, at a frat party upstairs,

"wan' hear all those pretty noises when i eat it, hear me?"

✦ and the first time you ever gave him head, whilst your parents were asleep and he came to spend the night at your house.

"f-fuck, jus' like that pretty girl, takin' my cock so well..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be gentle with bambi when you decide you want your first time to be with him — he's constantly reassuring you, and he decides to ease you into it with missionary because you deserved something intimate and special.

( it was also the first time chris realized he might be in love with you. )

( lilly's corner 💌 )

dealer!chris & bambi!reader are literally the cutest things ever when they first met, since technically they were still teenagers😕😕. i hope you guys enjoyed these! send in some prompts in my inbox for early dealer!chris & bambi!reader! love you all so much. 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

@sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns

@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21

@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @angvlarabella @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s

@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons

@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie Morningstar, actual princess of hell, sitting very stiff and straight and awkward on the throne of hell during a Formal Thing, looking very Uncomfy about it... until....

Vaggie: "Are you guys all blind? She's gorgeous up there."

Angel Dust: "No surprises YOU'D like seein' her all stiff."

Vaggie: "Fuck off. She looks dignified. Formal-"

Alastor: "Tense?"

Niffty: "Like rigger mortis!"

Cherri Bomb: "Like she's sitting on TNT."

Angel Dust: "Stiffer than a porn star tryn'a pay rent."

Husk: "I can hear her fucking teeth grinding through that forced grin."

Vaggie: "Alright, she's a bit nervous sitting on the throne of hell for the first time, filling in for the absent queen mom and the shut in king dad. So what."

Alastor: "It is becoming SLIGHTLY detrimental, ha ha!"

Vaggie: "You told her to sit still up there and look pretty. Look. She's sitting. She's pretty."

Angel Dust: "You're gay."

Vaggie: "Hi gay I'm her girlfriend."

Husk: (snorts)

Alastor: "I'm SURE she is ALL those things, my dear-"

Vaggie: "Touch me and the sleeve comes off with your arm in it."

Husk: (SNIGGERS)

Alastor: "-but she IS mainly meant to be inspiring CONFIDENCE in her ability to run hell as it's de-facto ruler!"

Vaggie: "And?"

Alastor: "Well it WOULD be nice if she could make the symbolic at of sitting on the throne of hell, in full view of what is MEANT to be HER royal court, seem just a BIT more, hrmm... NATURAL~"

Vaggie: "What the fuck does that mean. She's princess of Hell. However she sits on the dumb chair is natural."

Angel Dust: "Toots, she's third in line ruler of all Pride, an' she looks..."

Niffty: "WRETCHED!"

Husk: "Fucking pitiful."

Alastor: "Once again I shall go with TENSE."

Vaggie: "You want her to relax up there?"

Alastor: "I would rather say, it is VITAL that she does so~!"

Cherri Bomb: "No sweat. Someone give me a drink and I'll slip her a chill pill."

Vaggie: "No."

Angel Dust: "NO!"

Niffty: "I could try giving her acupuncture!"

Angel Dust: "Cherri, we've TALKED about this-"

Husk: "You fucking know how?"

Cherri Bomb: "-don't be sucha stick in the mud, Angie."

Niffty: "You PUNCTURE!"

Angel Dust: "I ain't being a stick in the mud! You-"

Husk: "Unholy shit stop giggling and give me that fucking knife-"

Cherri Bomb: "Yeah, and I wasn't gonna get her royal highness high for real. Just something to take off the edge-"

Angel Dust: "She's got no history with that stuff! She'd be a KITE!"

Vaggie: "Someone hold my drink."

Husk: "-and where the fuck are YOU going?"

Vaggie: "Gonna go help my girlfriend."

Angel Dust: "Whoa whoa wait toots- ya supposed to be lying LOW here, Vagisaurus! Ex-exorcist bitch, remember? Lot's a people here who'd like to KILL ya???"

Vaggie: "If anyone's pissed enough to run up the dais steps and try murdering the princess of hell's partner right in front of her then they deserve to get at least one hit on me. You guys have fun, stick together, don't get killed."

Husk: "Take your own fucking advice-"

Angel Dust: "-aaaand she's took off, right in front of EVERYBODY oh that's just GREAT."

Niffty: "Alastor? Do you want her to die..?"

Alastor: "Right now, dearest? Well! If it helps our princess put on more of a royal bearing, then I fail to see why she shouldn't!"

Cherri Bomb: "Dude."

-

Charlie: "-eighty-three million ducks on the wall, eighty-three million duuucks... take one down.... pass it around..."

Charlie: "-don't think about how easy mom made this look don't think about her seeing you up here and wondering where she went wrong and maybe she did and that's why she left don't think about it don't think-"

Charlie: "... eighty-two million nine-hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-nine ducks on the waaalllll-"

Vaggie: (swoops down) "Hey."

Charlie: "-oh thank HELL Vaggie! I was just getting-"

(gets smooched)

Charlie: "..."

Charlie: ".... hhh...hi..."

Vaggie: "This armrest taken?"

Charlie: "What armrest. Oh! The THRONE right um no I mean yes you can, or- or we could get you your own chair if you want-!"

Vaggie: "Thanks babe, this is good."

Charlie: "It's- it's close!"

Vaggie: "Nice being on eye level for once."

Charlie: "or kiss level."

Vaggie: "Hm?"

Charlie: "NO NOTHING. Ahem!" (using gf's thigh as armrest)

Charlie: "Sooo, how's the party going down there?"

Vaggie: "Typical. Niffty brought a knife."

Charlie: "A knife? Just one??"

Vaggie: "We'll see."

Charlie: "I... guess just a knife's not too bad-"

Vaggie: "Heavenly steel."

Charlie: "H- Did you confiscate-?"

Vaggie: "Husk's working on it. I had better things to do."

Charlie: "Oh." (drooping) "Better things right. Other things. Just checking in on me huh? Um, what is the other things that need doing?"

Vaggie: "Charlie."

Charlie: "Shoot did I forget something?"

Vaggie: "You didn't-"

Charlie: "Something IMPORTANT?"

Vaggie: "Sweetie, you're things."

Charlie: "My things??"

Vaggie: "The things are you."

Charlie: "I'M things? What things- OH I'M THE-"

Charlie: "-I'm the things that need doing."

Vaggie: "Do you?"

Charlie: "N-not in public!"

Vaggie: "Guess you'll have to wait, then."

Charlie: "..."

Charlie: "You know, these are the only times I ever wonder about you maybe being a liiiittle itty bit evil."

Vaggie: "Punishment to fit the sin, babe. I've been having to look at you all evening."

Charlie: "I was WONDERING why your wings were showing!"

Vaggie: "You bring it out in me."

Charlie: "HEHEHEHEH."

Vaggie: "So now we're just gonna have to suffer together for the rest of the night."

Charlie: "That phrasing isn't helping."

Vaggie: "You playing with the hem of my skirt isn't helping."

Charlie: "YOU'RE the one almost sitting on my LAP."

Vaggie: "Emphasis on almost."

Charlie: (sigh) "I wish you were sitting on my lap..."

Vaggie: "You're basically melting into mine now, so there's that."

Charlie: "Your fault." (pouts) "Evil temptress of cuddles denied."

Vaggie: "Hellishly cute seductress."

Charlie: "Distracting tease."

Vaggie: "Speaking of distracting, think the whole room's looking this way now."

Charlie: "Can't blame them. You're lovely, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Charmer."

Charlie: "Beautiful~"

Random Sinner: (charges over) "Murdering EXORCIST! You-"

(FwooOOM HELLFIRE)

Demon Charlie: (SNARLS)

Random Sinner: "...."

Random Sinner: "..... your wings are.. very pretty."

Vaggie: "Thanks."

Demon Charlie: "ANY oThER WORDS?"

Random Sinner: "C-congratulations on the girlfriend, your highness!"

Charlie: (beaming) (sparkling) "Thank you!!"

Random Sinner: (slightly charred) (eases back into the crowd)

Vaggie: "...."

Charlie: "I know I know..." (huffs) "That was a bit-"

Vaggie: "Hot."

Charlie: "Oh hush." (smirks) (drapes herself over gf's lap again)

-

Alastor: "...Well!"

Angel Dust: "She sure ain't stiff anymore."

Alastor: "Quite so."

Husk: "She's fucking liquefying."

Alastor: "Hrmm..."

Angel Dust: "Liquid like lighter fluid. She ROASTED that guy."

Cherri Bomb: "Are we like, SURE no one slipped anything in her drink..?"

Niffty: "Do you see any DEAD BODIES around Vaggie!?"

Cherri Bomb: "Uh, no?"

Niffty: "Awww. Then no."

Husk: "My grip hasn't gone limp though- Niffty, stop trying to take back the fucking angel knife."

Niffty: "THERE AREN'T ANY CORPSES HERE AT LEAST LET ME HAVE THIS!!!"

Husk: "Fuck no! You'll make corpses!"

Niffty: "I KNOOOOW!!!"

Angel Dust: "Not tonight, Niff."

Niffty: (hanging limply off of knife handle) (sobbing)

Alastor: "Oh dearest don't CRY~" (pats niffty) "Come now- why don't we RELISH how the crowd shies back in FEAR from our DARLING hotel founder!"

Cherri Bomb: "Uhh, they might just be cringing back from all the glittery rainbows..?"

Niffty: (sniffling) "Cr- cringing's good..."

Husk: "She sure as fuck does look full of pride now."

Alastor: "Indeed! MOST satisfactory!"

Cherri Bomb: "Gay pride."

Angel Dust: "In her fucked up battle scarred heavenly wash out murder girlfriend who's giving her big soppy I'm-so-in-love looks."

Alastor: "Ah HA...! Close enough~"

[xiao-come-home]

PLEASE PLEASE PPLLLEEEAAAASE GIVE ME HEADCANONS OF BOOTHILL WITH AN INSECURE CHUBBY S/O. I KNOW THIS MAN WOULD SHOW EXTRA LOVE AND KILL ANYONE WHO MAKES FUN OF HIS BELOVED

Oh wow hehe twirls hair did you just call me out in this ask because its so me 🧐 some are a little sugg/estive but yea, you ask and I shall deliver 🙏

Boothill does not care that you're chubby at all - quite the opposite, he loves it! He genuinely thinks you look gorgeous, but most importantly, he's obsessed with hugging you and how soft you are! It gives him the fuzzy memories and reminds him how much he misses his old body.

Boothill does not tolerate yours or - aeons forbid - anyone else's bad comments about your body. Sure, he might laugh at some jokes you make, but once you take it too far, he gently reminds you that you're just as human as anybody else and should respect yourself! He won't judge you either, I mean - you're dating a cyborg, so if you love him for who he is in and out, he'll do the same.

Boothill might be a little too happy to touch your love handles at any occasion he gets. He's a little bit of a chubby chaser (like Itto, but it ain't about him) in the best way possible, he really likes to just... Grab stuff. Especially if it's about you.

Boothill might not be that good with words, but will always reassure you that he truly just loves you, regardless of how you think about yourself. Boothill will scoop you in his arms, kiss your cheek gently and wipe your tears if you truly feel down about your looks that day.

"Listen up, sweet pea," Boothill smiles at you softly, "all I can see is absolute perfection. Ya might not feel the same and it's fine - but I promise ya, pretty thing, I'll never get tired of seein' these beautiful curves."

He's definitely willing to prove his words with actions, though..

Try prying away Boothill from your thighs when he gets to them, I dare you. God, he loves, fuck, LOVES everything about your thick thighs. Having them as pillow, having his face squished between them... He jokes it's his only place to die the second time (💀). He just might go insane if you wear shorts that emphasize your revealed thighs.

He might just be laying between your thighs when he recharges. There's no reason to it, he's enveloped by two warm pillows and he's on cloud nine. Deal with it.

You may not notice, but Boothill sometimes just drools over you. If you're chubbier in the butt - he fights himself internally not to pull you from behind by your shorts against him and shamelessly grope you. Chubbier tits? He's almost barking when they spill from your bra. Chubbier stomach? God, the way some of your clothes stick to it, it makes his head dizzy. A little bit of everything? Good, he wants it all. Just sit on his face and stop talking.

Boothill might short-circuit when you sit on his lap for the first time because any aeons out there, this is heaven. Literally just marry him on the spot please. He isn't letting you go once you sit down. He's literally the "let's fucking go" meme afterwards.

You just have to slap away Boothill's hands in public from time to time because this man's hands slowly progress from just holding your waist, then firmly holding your hips, and traveling to finally hold your ass.

Though, when someone dares to speak something that makes you doubt yourself even more, let alone make you cry - things are going to get violent. Boothill won't let it slide, and on top of that, he's fucking pissed off. Boothill will hunt them in every lifetime.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

adam x reader(let’s act like he didn’t die) with the reader comforting him/tending to his wounds after the battle at the hotel? angst + super fluffy with possibly a male reader? if not, that’s fine!!

so sorry about your dog:(

A/n: i am so sorry for missing this, I was not in the best place to write but thank you.

"Do not say it." Adam muttered as he kept is gaze away from you, he didn't want to look at you.

Sighing, you carefully cleaned out the gash on his cheek. "Say what?"

"That you told me so." He did his best to not mock you but his was pissed off. He was pissed off because he put you in danger. He wasn't blind to your own injuries, the little winces you hid because you were helping him, you almost died, he almost lost you and that thought scared him.

"Well." You paused as you grabbed a bandaged to wrap around a wound on his arm. "You should had listened to Charlie..."

"The Fuck! Who's side are you on?!"

Narrowing your eyes, you stood up placing a hand to your side. "Yours Adam...or I was until that shit you pulled." You snapped feeling tears pool in your eyes as you tried you brushed your tears away. "I don't understand why you can't just give them a chance."

Adam's eyes went wide, then he frowned as he adverted his gaze. He didn't like that you were crying, he hated that he was the one that even made you cry. "Shit."

Biting back a groan he stood up then rolled his shoulders then took a step towards you then pulled you into his arms. "Please stop cryin....I hate seein you cry....I...if it will make ya happy. I'll give that hotel a chance."

Sniffling, you pressed your face into his chest then slowly looked up at him. "R-really?"

"Ya! Ya...if it will make ya smile then I will. Now I think it's my turn to take care of you." Adam grabbed a few of the things you were using as he started to clean out your wounds.

If he was going to be honest, he was only doing it to make sure you would stay safe.

He'd work for hell, as long as it meant that you will be okay.

[southern-cryptid-of-the-labs]

🦌~ INTRODUCTION POST ~🦌

🦌 ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ 🦌

Heya! It's Alice.

I tend ta type in my accent!

By the way, the blog 'm sourced from is @unhinged-southern

The system main is @shinyshade8026!!

🦌 ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ 🦌

Name: Alice

Nicknames: Allie, Wendigo

Pronouns: She/It

Sexuality: Questioning

Partner: Valice - @southern-creature-of-the-woods

System Role: ???

Species: Worker drone(?)

🦌 ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ 🦌

#allie answers - answerin' asks

#allie's nonsense - general posts/reblogs

#welcome wanderer - I'll be usin' this when i come into front!

#wayward wanderer - fer when i leave front, though it shouldn't happen much

#queerdeers - ...talkin' bout my girlfriend, Valice

#heated talk - fer when a post of mine has got NSFW talk in it. I suggest ya block this tag unless ye are fully sure yer okay with seein' that stuff

#allie's discard pile - err... vents...

🦌 ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~ 🦌

Since 'm an adult, suggestive jokes are perfectly fine! There's a high chance I might say NSFW things 'bout my partner, so be wary, and block the tag.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

𝒢𝒰𝒩 𝒫ℒ𝒜𝒴 － with boothill ， fem!reader, daddy kink, implied-dubcon. [MDNI] ． 𓋜

Your breath hitched as the cold barrel of Boothill's revolver pressed against your cunt, the metal sending a sharp shiver through you. His smirk was lazy, dangerous, eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched you squirm beneath him. "Look at you, sugar," he drawled, voice thick with teasing. "All shakin’ now? Like a damn leaf? Ain't like you didn't know what you were gettin' into."

You swallowed hard, your body tense, heat rising to your cheeks. The weight of the gun in his hand was undeniable, the slow, deliberate way he let it rest against you making your breath come out in soft, uneven gasps. He chuckled, the sound low and knowing. "You trust me, don'tcha?"

The pressure of the gun remained firm, unwavering, as he leaned in closer. "I ain't gonna pull the trigger, darlin... but I like seein' vou wonder if I will."

His free hand cupped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

His smirk deepened. "Now, why don't you be a good little thing and take what I give ya?" Boothill chuckled, the sound rough and edged with amusement as he watched you tremble beneath him. The weight of the gun in his hand never waver. His gun thrusting into you tight pussy, as you moaned out loud, “D-Daddy…feels sooo good.” You whimpered softly.

Boothill let out a deep chuckle, his grip steady as he watched you writhe beneath him. "Now, ain't that sweet," he murmured, his voice rich with amusement. "Callin' me Daddy like you think it'll make me go easy on ya."

His free hand trailed along your thigh, his touch contrasting the cold, unyielding metal pressing against you.

Every little sound you made only seemed to amuse him further, his smirk growing as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "You like this, don'tcha?" he drawled, slow and taunting. "The way I handle you... the way I make you wait, make you beg."

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his sharp, knowing gaze. "Ain't nothin' more dangerous than puttin' your trust in a man like me, sugar."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body tense with anticipation. Boothill chuckled again, clearly enjoying the way you reacted to him, the way you couldn't hide just how much you wanted more.

"Guess I'll just have to keep showin' you what happens when you play with outlaws," he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

Boothill's smirk never wavered as he watched you, his amusement clear in the way his fingers traced along your jaw. The cold metal against you was a constant reminder of the control he held, the slow, deliberate way he moved making your breath hitch.

"You're real soft, sugar," he murmured, voice low and teasing. "All shy an' squirmy like that... makes a man wanna take his time." His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, eyes dark with satisfaction. “Look at that pussy, drippin’ all over my gun.” He cooed, your velvety walls clenching around the gun, as you whined out loud. You swallowed hard, your body tense with anticipation, every little movement sending a fresh wave of heat through you. Boothill chuckled, clearly pleased with the way you responded to him.

"'know," he drawled, his tone lazy but edged with something more, "| could make you beg real pretty if I wanted. But I like watchin' you hold back... all flustered, not knowin' what to do with yourself."

His free hand trailed lower, his touch featherlight, making you shiver. "Ain't no rush, darlin'" he murmured. "We got all night."

His words sent a deep warmth through you, and as his smirk widened, you knew one thing for certain—Boothill wasn't done with you yet.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[joelmillerisapunk]

I'll never stop makin' you feel this good

bfd!joel miller x f!reader

masterlist

↳ wordcount: 3,795

↳ summary: After returning to your hometown, you reconnect with your childhood friend Sarah and her father Joel, a retired firefighter. As you spend time with him, you can't deny the spark between you, and soon you find yourself on a date with Joel, where things quickly heat up and the chemistry between you becomes impossible to ignore.

~or~

↳ a dom!daddy date

↳ warnings: 18+, dom!Joel, implied age gap, light spanking, fingering, light male masterbation, public stuff? But nothing too wild.

↳ notes: my favorite line became the title since I couldn't find a song I liked. Ty @saradika-graphics as always for the dividers 💓 and tysm for the love and support on all my fics so far. As a brand new writer its been so incredibly validating. I've gained so many amazing followers, moots, and friends in the like two weeks I've been here. I LOVE YOU ❤️

After being away for several years to pursue your dreams of becoming a marine biologist, you return to your hometown to visit your family and your childhood friend Sarah Miller and her father Joel, a retired firefighter. Sarah was like a sister to you growing up, and you were excited to catch up with her and see how much she had grown.

As you walk up to the Miller's house, you can't help but feel a little nostalgic. You and Sarah used to play in the front yard for hours, pretending to be superheroes and exploring the neighborhood.

Joel greets you with a warm smile as he opens the door. "Howdy kiddo. Missed seein’ ya around," he says, extending his hand for a friendly handshake. And as your hand meets his, he takes in your appearance, he can't help but notice how much you've grown up, how much more mature you've become. He quickly clears his throat, trying to tame his thoughts.

You grin and shake his hand. "Hey, Mr. Miller. It's good to be back," you reply, trying to hide your nervousness.

"Mr. Miller makes me sound old. Just call me Joel,” he says, chuckling.

You giggle, "alright Joel it is."

Joel nods and stands straight. "Well, kiddo, how've you been? You look good."

"I've been really good, Mr. Miller - uh Joel. College is going well," you reply, feeling a little more at ease.

"College, huh? And what do you wanna be when you grow up?" Joel asks.

You giggle. “I'm not exactly five anymore, but I'm going to school to be a marine biologist," you say, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Joel's face lights up in surprise. "Marine biologist... that's gotta be one dangerous job. You know, I saw a show on Netflix once about shark attacks. I thought a pretty thing like you shouldn't be near those monsters, they'll eat'cha whole."

You chuckle, "Yeah, they're quite terrifying, but I might have learned a thing or two in school.” You wink playfully.

“And just what do you learn about shark attacks in marine biology school?” Joel asks, skeptical.

You smile. “ Don't worry, I'll make sure to keep my professors in the loop," you reply, trying to keep a straight face.

Joel can't help but smirk, “alright darlin’, and moves to the side to let you inside.

After a few hours of catching up and reminiscing about old times with Sarah, it's time for you to leave. But just as you're about to head out the door, Joel stops you. "Uh hey, listen, could I interest you in dinner sometime? I know a good steakhouse nearby. I think we could have a good time and catch up," he says, with a hopeful expression on his face.

Caught off guard, you're unsure if he's asking you on a date, but it feels innocent enough, so you agree. "Yah, that'd be nice, Joel," you say, trying to keep a straight face. Secretly hoping it was intended for more.

"Great! I'll pick you up at eight, okay? Here, I'll text you the name of the place, and you can look it up if you'd like," Joel says, as he hands you his phone with the contact app already open.

You take his phone and place your number in it.

"Thanks, kiddo. Hey, you okay? You look a little anxious for a steak dinner," Joel says, noticing your nervousness.

"Not at all, looking forward to it," you reply, with a confident smile. You place a hand gently on his arm, feeling a warmth radiate between you two.

Joel smiles and says, "Alright, kiddo. I'll see you later, then."

"See ya later, Joel," you say, as you walk out the door, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for your dinner date with Joel.

You're excited as you wait for Joel to pick you up for your dinner date. When he arrives, he knocks at your door, and when you open it, he says, "You ready to eat some steak, kiddo?"

You open the door, ready as ever. “Joel, you don't have to keep calling me kiddo. I'm not a child anymore.”

“Alright, darlin’, let's get going, then.” He holds out his hand, and you take it. When you get to his car, he opens the car door for you. You hurry in, eager to spend time with Joel.

“There's some great steak at this restaurant. You'll love the atmosphere there, it's a classy place. The staff is professional, not chatty, and very good customer service.” He smiles as he puts his car in gear and starts driving”

You smile and look forward as he drives. “I can't wait.”

When you arrive, he gets out and opens the door for you, then locks up his car. “Ladies first. That's how me and your old man were raised.” He laughs as you walk toward the restaurant.

You chuckle, “such a gentleman.” You get to a big glass door, a maitre d' greets you and seats you in a booth at a table for two. “Doesn't look too crowded tonight.” He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair.

You take your coat off as well, revealing a very fitted dress. “It's beautiful, Joel.”

He looks at you and smiles, staring at you for a second “You look beautiful, very nice dress. You're much more grown up now than the last time I saw you.”

You feel yourself getting warm as you sit down, “thanks, you're not too bad yourself.” You manage to wink at Joel.

He laughs, “I'm sure you've got a lotta boys chasin’ you.” He pauses for a moment, eyeing you up and down before he continues, “that dress sure does suit you darlin’.” He grins mischievously.

You giggle, “well not exactly the boys I want to be chasing me.” You grin at him playfully. “I'm glad you like it, I just got it, actually.”

“Oh? And who exactly are you hoping to chase you.”

“I dunno, someone a little older, strong, I'm tired of boys.” You look into his eyes. “A real man who knows how to take care of a woman.”

He grins, leaning in a bit “So, you like a dominant man, huh? Would you say I fit the bill?”

You're a little surprised by Joel's straightforwardness but lean in closer, testing the waters a bit. “Well, I'm not so sure just how dominant you are, Mr. Miller, I might need you to show me.” You wink, biting your bottom lip.

He leans in even closer across the table and whispers in your ear. “Don't talk like that, or you're gonna get me all riled up. A girl like you should be careful about what you say.”

You whisper breathily in his ear, "I like a little danger.”

His eyes widen, shocked that you would say something so…naughty. “Are you tryin’ to get me to do something at the dinner table?” He says in a hushed tone. “Don't tempt me, baby.”

“Yes, sir.” You sit back and wink at him, liking his authoritative behavior but still feeling a bit defiant. You run your foot up his leg till it hits his thigh, your gaze locked onto his eyes.

He grins, placing his hand on your leg, slowly moving it up your dress, “You're playing with fire, darlin’.” His hand slowly makes its way up your leg, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.

You look into his eyes and challenge him, "Hmm, well, what exactly would you do with a girl like me?"

Joel's hand is now resting on your inner thigh, and you can feel his fingers lightly tracing circles on your skin. He leans in closer to you, "I think you already know what I'd do to you." You feel a shiver run down your spine.

The waiter comes to your table and asks if everything is alright, but you barely register his presence. All you can focus on is the feeling of Joel's hand on your thigh and the way his eyes are burning into yours. Joel leans back in his chair and sips his wine, never taking his eyes off of you. You can feel your heart racing as you stare back at him, wondering what he's going to do next.

The waiter brings your wine that Joel ordered, and you take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your body. Joel's hand is still on your thigh, and you can feel him slowly sliding it up higher and higher.

"I love the way you breathe when I touch you. Makes me feel all-powerful." Joel's voice is filled with desire, and you can't help but feel the same way.

You look at him, challenging him, "You think you can tame me, Mr. Miller?"

Joel grins, "I don't like the word tame. I prefer the word... break. If I'm gonna take charge, I'm gonna take it completely, and this dress of yours ain't survivin' the night."

Your heart is pounding in your chest as Joel's hand reaches the top of your thigh. You can feel his fingers lightly grazing your wet panties, and you gasp at the sensation. "Think you can handle this old cowboy darlin’?" Joel's voice is low and dangerous, and you can feel yourself getting lost in his eyes.

You nod, unable to speak, as Joel's fingers start to move in slow circles over your clit. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you moan softly as Joel's fingers quicken their pace. Suddenly, Joel pulls his hand away, leaving you wanting more. He stands up, offering to help you up as well. "You really think I’d let a pretty thing like you come in public? Come on, it’s time for us to eat in private."

You follow Joel out of the restaurant, feeling dizzy with lust. You can barely believe what just happened. As you walk to Joel's car, you can feel his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards his black Mustang. You slide into the passenger seat, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. Joel starts the car, and you take off towards Joel's place.

You feel so innocent and young next to Joel, but you love the feeling. You follow him through his house until you reach a small room with a couch, a TV on one side, and a fireplace on the other. Joel pours you a glass of wine and hands it to you, his eyes never leaving yours. You take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your body.

He goes back to the kitchen to just grab the entire bottle. You make your way around, looking at all his stuff. You pick up a small carving, accidentally dropping it on the floor and bending over to pick it up, but your dress doesn't fully cover you. Joel walks back at the perfect time and can see everything, but you don't notice, so he's quiet and sets the bottle down before moving toward you.

"Oh, I like this little maneuver of yours,” Joel's voice is low and gravelly as he takes in the sight of you bent over, your dress riding up to reveal your lacy underwear. He steps closer to you, his hand tracing a path between your legs, stopping just shy of your center. "I like it a lot," he growls, his breath hot on your neck.

You gasp as you feel his fingers brush against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You're unable to resist the urge to push back against him, wanting more of his touch. Joel takes advantage of your position, his fingers slipping beneath your underwear as he explores your wet folds. You moan softly, your head falling back as he teases you with his touch.

"So, so wet for me," Joel murmurs in your ear, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I can feel how much you want me.” You can't deny it - you want him more than you've ever wanted anyone before. You push back against him, trying to get him to give you more. Joel chuckles, his fingers stilling for a moment before he gives you what you want. He plunges two fingers deep inside you, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. You cry out in pleasure, your body trembling as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. But just as you're about to come, Joel pulls away, leaving you wanting. You turn to look at him, your eyes pleading for more.

He grins wickedly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Not yet, darlin’ hold on for me.” Joel stands up, walking over to the fireplace and stoking the flames. You can't take your eyes off of him, watching as he moves with a confidence and authority that makes your heart race.

He turns back to you, his eyes blazing with desire. "Take off your dress. I want to see you." You hesitate for a moment, but the look in Joel's eyes tells you that he's not going to take no for an answer. You stand up straight, reaching behind you to unzip your dress. As the dress falls to the ground, you stand before Joel in nothing but your underwear. He lets out a low whistle, his eyes taking in every inch of your body. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he growls, his eyes dark with desire.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as Joel's eyes roam over your body. You've never felt so vulnerable, so exposed - and yet so wanted. Joel reaches down, adjusting himself as he stares at you. "Take off your underwear, too. I want to see all of you."

You nod, your hands shaking as you slip your underwear down your legs. You step out of them, standing before Joel completely naked. He lets out a low groan, his eyes devouring every inch of your body. Joel reaches down, pulling his cock out of his jeans and boxers. He starts stroking himself, his eyes never leaving yours. "Watch me darlin’. Watch as I stroke my cock, thinking about all the things I'm gonna to do to you."

You can't take your eyes off of him as he strokes himself, his hand moving up and down his shaft. You've never seen anything so hot before. You watch as Joel continues to stroke himself, his eyes locked on yours. You can feel your body responding to the sight of him touching himself.

"C'mere darlin," he beckons, patting the space beside him. As you move to sit next to him, his fingers begin to trace a path up your leg, inching closer and closer to your wet center. Once there, his touch becomes more deliberate, circling your clit with a gentle touch that sends shivers down your spine. You can't help but moan softly, your hips bucking up to meet his skilled fingers.

He stops for a moment and with a firm but gentle grip, Joel guides you to turn over, positioning you face down, ass up on the couch, he finds your clit quickly again as his other hand comes down on your ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the small room. The sting of his hand on your skin only serves to heighten your arousal. His hand comes down on your backside once again, the sound of his palm against your skin filling the room. The mixture of pleasure and pain is intoxicating, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Joel smirks, his hand coming down again and again, the pain mixing with pleasure in a way that leaves you dizzy.

"You like that, don't you?" Joel's voice is low and rough, his fingers still moving in slow circles over your clit. "You like it when I take charge, when you don’t have to do anything but what I tell you, no thinkin’ just doin’."

You nod, unable to speak. It's true - you do like it. You like the way Joel makes you feel helpless, his to do with as he pleases. Joel growls, his fingers plunging deep inside you again. This time, he doesn't stop, his hand moving faster and faster as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

You moan louder, your hips bucking up to meet his hand. Joel's other hand comes down on your ass again, only adding to the pleasure. Finally, Joel's fingers still, his fingers resting deep inside you as you come hard. You cry out, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Joel pulls his fingers out of you slowly, holding them up to your lips. "Taste yourself. See how sweet you are." You open your mouth, your tongue darting out to taste your own juices. It's unlike anything you've ever tasted before, and you can't get enough.

Joel smirks, his hand moving up to your hair. He grips it tightly, pulling your head back so that you're looking up at him. "You're mine now, and I'll do whatever I want with you." All you can do is whimper in excitment, your heart racing in your chest. You've never felt so alive. Joel releases your hair, his hand moving back down to your thigh. "Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.

You lean back against the couch, feeling boneless and sated. Joel leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you scream, again and again and again."

Joel stands up, his hands moving to the buttons on his own shirt. You watch as he undoes each one, revealing his muscular chest and arms. Your eyes widen as he kicks off his shoes and socks, followed by his pants and boxers. His cock stands at attention, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation. Joel's eyes follow your gaze, a smirk crossing his lips. "Like what you see, darlin'?" Joel steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to grab your ass.

Joel lifts you up with ease, his strong arms supporting your weight as your legs wrap around his waist. You can feel the head of his cock lightly brush against you, causing you to gasp at the contact. He takes a moment to look into your eyes, a smoldering gaze that makes your heart race.

With a gentle yet firm grip, he guides his cock to your entrance, teasing you with small thrusts that make you squirm with anticipation. You can feel how wet and ready you are for him, your body begging for more.

Joel then slowly pushes himself into you, filling you up completely. You let out a moan as he bottoms out, his cock buried deep inside you. He pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. You can feel the warmth and tension building up inside you, your body responding to his cock sitting inside you.

With ease, Joel carries you upstairs to his bed, never breaking eye contact with you. Once he reaches the bed, he tosses you down onto it, his body following you down. He positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with his cock. "You ready for me, darlin'?"

You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. Joel thrusts inside you, filling you up completely. You cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his back as he starts to move. His thrusts are hard and fast, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Joel's hands are on your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you. "You like that, darlin'? You like it when I fuck you like a dirty little slut?" Joel growls, his fingers digging into your hips. You moan, your body responding to his words. “Tell me how much you like it, darlin'. Tell me how much you love my cock inside you," Joel commands, his fingers tightening around your hips.

"I love it. I love your cock inside me. Please, don't stop," you beg.

Joel smirks, "I'll never stop fucking you, darlin'. I'll never stop making you feel this good." Joel's thrusts become more erratic as he chases his own release, his cock driving deeper into you with each stroke. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body begging for release.

"Come for me, darlin'. Come all over my cock," Joel growls, his voice deep and raw with desire.

His fingers tighten around your hips, pulling you closer as he pounds into you. You can feel every inch of him, his thick cock stretching you wide as he fucks you hard and fast.

Your body trembles with pleasure, your pussy clenching around him as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his hips slamming into yours as he chases his own release.

"Fuck, I'm close," he growls, his breath hot against your neck.

You can feel him tensing up, his cock swelling inside you as he gets closer and closer to the edge. Joel's thrusts become more erratic, his hips slamming into yours as he chases his own release.

With a loud groan, Joel stills, his cock buried deep inside you as he comes. You can feel him pulsing inside you, a feeling you never knew you'd love so much. Joel collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy as he pants against your neck.

You wrap your arms around him, feeling more content and satisfied than you ever have before. Joel's cock is still buried deep inside you, and you can feel him softening as he comes down from his high. You moan softly as he slips out of you, your body missing the feeling of him inside you.

Joel rolls over onto his back, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You can see the satisfied look on his face, and you can't help but smile, your bodies entwined as you lay together.

Joel's cock is still glistening with your juices, and you can't help but reach out and touch him. You wrap your hand around his softening length, feeling him twitch at your touch. "You feel amazing," you murmur, your fingers tracing the veins that run along the length of his cock.

Joel smiles, his hand reaching out to touch your face. "You're amazing," he replies, his voice soft and filled with emotion.

You lay there together, your bodies entwined as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You feel more connected to Joel than ever before, your bodies and souls intertwined as you lay there in the peaceful silence, content and fulfilled in each other's arms.

[mysteryshoptls]

R Ace Trappola - Luxe Couture Voice Lines

Summon Line: Think people'll mistake me for a celeb or an actor if I walk around town wearin' this getup? ...Hey, why's that makin' you laugh?

Groooovy!!: When the live-action Beautiful Queen comes out to the public, let's totally go watch it again.

Home: Bein' in this super nice outfit's pretty nerve-wracking...

Home Idle 1: Man, high-brand clothes like this really are cool, huh～ One day, I'd love to walk into a store and say something like, "I'll take every outfit on this shelf!"

Home Idle 2: Azul-senpai's real meticulous, huh. He's buyin' a ton of souvenirs to give to people he wants to make connections with.

Home Idle 3: It's actually pretty hard to figure out how much makeup to use. Once, when I tried drawin' on my eyebrows while watching a how-to video, I made 'em way too thick and it looked pretty dumb...

Home Idle - Login: I thought I'd be super nervous hangin' out at a film fest with a ton of celebrities, but seein' my upperclassmen being their usual selves has kinda helped me calm down a bit.

Home Tap 1: Whenever Vil-senpai walks into a shop, all the manager tier folk just flock to greet him in a tizzy. That's a super popular influencer for ya!

Home Tap 2: I got this accessory thanks to Jamil-senpai's recommendation. It was a little cheap, but it's properly 925-stamped silver. Heh, I got something good.

Home Tap 3: Brand-name products are pretty awesome, but cosmetics get used up quick, right? So when it comes to that, I think I'm good with the cheap stuff.

Home Tap 4: I'm totally gonna brag about this high-brand couture fit forever! Gotta make sure to take care of it so it doesn't get dirty.

Home Tap 5: The hotel that the film studio set us up in was crazy gorgeous and amazing. This has been the experience of a lifetime!

Requested by Anonymous.

[aliothfrost]

"I'll be seein' ya around, partner !"

I've been playing Undertale Yellow and honestly, it was cool.

[butchersboobs]

Twist (Part Three)

A Billy Butcher POV fanfic

NSFW under the cut - MDNI

Part One | Part Two

_________

I’ve been up all night. Pacin' the flat. Swearin' at the telly. Drinkin'. 

But nuffink I do stops me keep 'earin you tellin' Ollie I ain't never comin' back - it's on repeat in me 'ead, over 'n over again til I wanna punch me fist through the fuckin' wall.

The look on 'is little face… Nah, I can’t let that stand. You don’t get to pull that kinda stunt 'n get away wiv it. 

So the next day, I'm back knockin' at yer door, shoulders square, ready for anuvver barney.

I expect ya t'tell me t'fuck off, slam the door in me face, maybe even call the ol' bill on me. But ya don’t. You open the door quick, lookin' like you’ve been waittin' for me t'get 'ere. “Come in” ya say, like nuffink's 'appened.

For a second, I just stand there - blinkin' like a twat. “You what?”

“Come in, Billy” you repeat, calm as ya like.

It throws me completely - but I'll be fucked if I'm gonna let you know that. I just shove me way past ya, an' 'ead towards yer livin' room.

You forget - I fuckin' know you. I don’t trust ya one bit - yer up to summink.

The place is quiet - too quiet. No Ollie running about, no squeals o'laughter. “Where’s the boy?” I ask, me voice sharp.

“He’s at preschool,” you say, closin' the door.

Me jaw tightens. I feel like I’ve been set up. “Right. So what’s this, then? Some kinda ambush?”

You shake yer 'ead, looking… sad. Guilty, maybe. Good. You fuckin' should be, after the shit you pulled yesterday. “Billy, I just… I wanted to talk.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Talk? Oh, now ya wanna fuckin' talk. After breakin’ that poor lad's 'eart?”

“I know,” ya say, and there’s this tremble in yer voice. You're fillin' up. And for a split second, I wanna comfort ya - never could stand it, seein' ya cry. But I soon fuck that train o'fort off. Fuck that.

“I know, Billy. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was cruel, and I feel terrible about it.”

“So ya fuckin’ should,” I snap, but the fight’s gone out o'me a bit.

You take a deep breff, steadyin' yerself. “God, he was so upset. He cried himself to sleep last night, thinking he'd never see you again. I can’t do it to him, Billy. I… I want him to see you. Regularly.”

Well that stops me in me tracks. “What?”

“You can see him, as often as you like. We just need to figure out some ground rules,” you say, foldin' yer bloody arms again - but it ain't in anger this time - more like yer tryna 'old yerself togevver. “For Ollie’s sake. He needs stability, Billy.”

Me anger flares up again, hot 'n sharp. “Ground rules? You takin' the fuckin' piss? You fink you get to call the shots after what you've done?”

You flinch, but ya don’t back down. “I’m trying to do what’s best for him, Billy. Can we just - can we not fight about this? Please?”

I look daggers at ya, every muscle in me body tense. Because I know yer right. As much as it boils me piss - you're right. I sigh, draggin' me 'and through me beard. “Fine. Ground rules. Whatever. Just say what you gotta say.”

And then you go straight f'me fuckin' jugular.

“I need you to promise not to tell him you’re his dad…”

The fuckin' balls on you. Fuckin'ell. I'm goona blow...

“You can fuck right off wi'that shite - are you seriously tellin’ me I’ve gotta keep me gob shut 'n pretend I’m just some random fuckin' bloke, while my son - my fuckin' son - walks 'round not knowing the troof? You’re havin’ a fuckin' laugh!"

“For fucksake Billy - let me finish” you shout back, and there's tears fallin' now. “I’m not saying you can never tell him you're his dad. I mean… just… don't tell him yet. Let him get to know you first. Let him feel comfortable. Please.”

I’m so angry I can 'ardly see straight. I need ta fuck off out of 'ere, sharpish - cos if I don't? I'll fuckin' frottle ya. 

But outta nowhere, I fink of Ollie. 'Is little grin, the way he ran t'me like I was his 'ole world. I can't walk out on 'im. E's only little, I don't wanna confuse the lad.

“Fine,” I say through gritted teef. “But don’t fink I’m fuckin' 'appy about it.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, wiping at your eyes.

You try t'pull yerself togevva - you gotta pick 'im up in a minute, ya tell me. And outta nowhere, you ask if I wanna come wiv ya - maybe take 'im for a burger t'the park. Me gut's tellin' me ta tell ya t'fuck off. I wanna see 'im on my terms, not yours. But then Ollie pops back in me 'ead again, an' I imagine 'ow 'is face is gonna light up, and I find meself sayin' yes.

But the second I agree, the panic sets in. What the fuck am I doin'? I’ve never looked after a kid in me life, let alone taken one out on me own. What if 'e falls off the fuckin' climbin' frame and cracks 'is bloody 'ead open? What if I feed 'im the wrong fing? What if I fuck it all up?

But I shove it down, 'ard. I'll do it fo 'im. For my boy.

—-----

We walk just down the road to Ollie’s preschool, an' it’s awkward as fuck. Neaver of us says much, there's just the sound of me bloody great clod'oppers on the pavement and the occasional cough. I can feel ya lookin' at me out the corner of yer eye, probly worryin' I’m gonna fuck it up.

You stop in front'o the preschool gates, fiddlin' wiv yer coat zip, and for a second, I fink about sayin' summink. Summink… normal. But then the gate opens, and the noise o'kids pours out. Me froat tightens.

An' then I see 'im. My boy. 'Is little 'ead bobs up, scannin' the line o'parents, and when 'e clocks me, it’s like the sun’s just come out. “Billy!” 'e shouts, droppin' whatever e’s holdin' and leggin' it towards me.

I don’t fink I’ve ever been hit so 'ard in me life - not by a punch, not by a bottle, not by anyfin. 'E crashes inta me, little arms wrappin' 'round me legs, face liokin' up up at me wiv that massive grin of 'is. “You're back you're back! Yay yay yay”

I crouch down, me 'ands on 'is tiny shoulders, and for a second, I can’t say a bloody word. I swallow 'ard. “Course I am, mate,” I finally manage, me voice rough. “I told ya I'd be back, dinni, ay?”

You’re standin' there, watchin' us, and when I glance atcha, there’s tears in yer eyes. It pisses me off a bit, but I push it aside for Ollie’s sake.

“Hey, Ollie,” you say, your voice gentle. “How would you like to go for lunch with Billy? Maybe to the park after?”

Well - 'e lights up like a fuckin' Christmas tree, bouncin' on the balls of 'is feet. “Yes! Can we, Billy? Please?”

I'm desperately tryna keep me face neutral, but inside I’m shittin' meself. “Yeah, alright, little man. Let’s do it.”

You pass me 'is little backpack, and the strap feels weird in me 'and - too small, too light. I feel like I shouldn’t be trusted wiv summink so important. “Have fun,” ya say, but yer voice is quieter now, almost 'esitant.

I nod, not trustin' meself t'speak wivout crackin'. I take Ollie’s 'and, n' we 'ead down the street, 'is little legs tryna match me stride. He’s chattin' away, excited about lunch, excited about the park, excited about playin' dinosaurs and an 'undred uvver fings I don’t fully follow.

And me? I’m just tryna keep it togevva - pretend I know what the fuck I’m doing, while 'is tiny hand in mine makes me feel like I’m 'olding the most precious fing in 'ole fuckin' world.

‐—-----

We 'it the burger joint first. Thought I’d feel a bit more confident starting there. I mean, 'ow 'ard can it be t'sit down 'n eat? Turns out, a lot bloody 'arder than you’d fink.

Ollie’s bouncin' in 'is seat before we’ve even bloody ordered, natterin' away about dinosaurs again, which ones eat meat, which ones eat plants, 'n which ones'd like burgers if they was still kickin' about. I’m noddin' along, tryna keep up, but troof be told, I’m out me depth.

“Do you like T. Rexes, Billy?” 'e asks me for the tenf time, 'is little face all serious.

“Course I do,” I say, crackin' a grin. “Mean little bastards, ain’t they?”

'E giggles, and it’s a sound I don’t fink I’ve ever 'eard before. Pure joy. It does summink to me, 'earing 'im laugh like that.

When the food comes, I figure e’ll settle down, but nope. He’s dippin' chips in ketchup, then lickin' it off like it’s some kinda game. Gets it all over 'is face. The table. 'Is shirt. Jesus Christ.

“Oi, Ollie, mate,” I say, tryna sound firm but not too 'arsh. “The chips go in yer mowf, not everywhere else.”

'E grins up at me, cheeky as anyfin, an' shoves an 'andful into his gob. “Like this?” 'e mumbles  'round a gob full o'food.

I can’t 'elp it - I laugh. “Yeah, just like that. Perfict.”

By the time we’re done, the table looks like a bloody war zone. Ketchup smeared everywhere, squashed chips scattered, and I’m pretty sure e's got 'alf a milkshake down 'is front. But e’s grinnin' from ear to ear, and I feel like I’m doin' alright.

“Ready for the park, then?” I ask, standin' up and grabbin' some napkins to clean 'im up.

“Yeah!” 'e shouts, jumpin' out 'is seat like I’ve just told him we’re off to Disney World.

We walk over to the park, and e’s practically draggin' me there, 'is little hand clutchin' mine. It’s weird, 'oldin 'is 'and like this. Feels… right.

When we get there, e’s off like a shot up the climbin' frame, shoutin' down at me to watch 'im. “Look, Billy! I’m up really high!”

My 'eart’s in my froat the entire time. E’s bloody fearless, this kid, swingin' off bars, 'angin upside down like e’s got no sense o'danger. I’m standin' there, arms out, ready to catch 'im if 'e so much as wobbles.

“You alright up there, mate?” I call, tryna sound casual while me stomach’s doin' bloody backflips.

“Yeah!” he yells back, laughin'. “I’m the bestest at climbing!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I mutter, more to meself than 'im.

Eventually, 'e makes his way to the slide, and that’s a bit less terrifyin'. E’s up and down it a dozen times, his laughter echoin' across the park. Uvver parents are 'ere, watching their nippers, chattin' amongst 'emselves. I feel a bit out o'place, like I don’t belong, to be honest. But Ollie’s avin' the time of 'is life - so I don’t let it bovver me.

When 'e finally comes runnin' back over, 'is cheeks are pink an' 'is 'air’s a sweaty mess.  E looks up at me, beamin'. “That was fun! Can we come back tomorrow?”

I crouch down to 'im “We’ll see, mate. We'll see. You 'ad a good then time, yeah?”

“The best!” 'e says, frowin' 'is arms round me neck.

An' just like that, the world stops. It’s just me and 'im, an' I feel summink I ain’t felt in years - peace. Pure, unshakable peace.

“Alrigh', let’s get you 'ome,” I say, standin' up and rufflin' his hair. “Your mum’ll 'ave my 'ead if I keep you out too long.”

He laughs, grabbin' me 'and again as we walk back. 

Maybe - just maybe - I can do this parentin' lark.

_________

Tags: @babyfri3dric3 @dumpy-little-nobody @bohemianblasphemy @smallsadjellyfish @frank3nfag @noonwardmoss @rebelled-angel @karlurbanism @jax-the-oregonian @chocolategiverzombie @scxrchedearf @bluemerakis @enchantedflameandflower @allirose18 @chiefcreatorcreation @bobabilbil

[mattslolita]

I see Bambi playing volleyball idk why like I envision her playing a rowdy sport so I’m making a blurb on it

“shit Bambi were did all these bruises come from?” Chris says grabbing ur arms examining the bruises

“it’s fine there gonna go away it’s from volleyball!” Bambi says nonchalantly

“since when did you play volleyball?!?” Chris asks in confusion

(continue this plot plez)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

chris was confused about where you'd been all day, especially when he saw charges on his card for knee pads, ankle sleeves, and braces. it sounded like similar to the kind of sports things he needed when he played lacrosse in high school, but he'd never thought you'd be in a sport. plus, you had agreed to go with him on some deals today, but you had to switch plans last minute, which was all the more confusing to him.

then he started to get nervous as he wondered if you were buying for someone else — it was a far-fetched idea, but he wasn't ready to completely shut down any possible thought until he knew for sure what you were up to.

which is how he found himself pacing back and forth in the living room of his apartment, after asking you to come back there. you happily agreed on the phone, and chris was as confused as ever when he heard yelling happening in the background.

not too much longer later, a rattling of the keys can be heard as you enter the apartment, your braids held up in a ponytail and your bow missing from your head — chris stares at you in shock when he sees the small, purplish bruises that litter your knees and your elbows. he also takes note of your heavy panting, causing him to storm over to you once you fully step inside.

"shit bambi, where the fuck did ya get these bruises?" chris asks you, confusion and worry lacing his voice as he takes ahold of your arm, examining it, "you in some secret fight club?"

"fight club?" you ask him incredously, fighting back an amused laugh as you watch him look at you, "no!"

"you even got some on your. . ." chris says, narrowing his eyes as he motions to your ankles. his eyes suddenly widen, as his expression drops. "you...you seein' someone else?"

"what?" you ask in shock, pulling your arm out of his grip, "now baby, what possessed you ask me that?"

"those ankle bruises," he points out as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. you start to giggle, and he narrows his eyes at you, "whas funny, huh? how'd you get those, then?"

"volleyball practice, duh. did you not see my knee pads and shit? anyway," you wave him off, lugging your equipment into the living room, "the bruises go away, they're not there for long. today was a long practice too, we have a game against one of the best in the league."

when you turn around and look at chris, his eyes are wide with shock. "since when do you play volleyball?!"

"y'know she's always played, right?" nick suddenly says as he walks in, giving his brother a confused expression, "has he never gone to one of your games, bambi?"

"when's your next game? i'll be there."

[tetsuswaifu]

Slap Ass Friday (Haikyuu! x Reader) - Pt. 2

a/n: had to continue this series with some of my other faves. there's an explanation to this idea in my author notes in part 1 if you haven't already read. masterlist still currently in the works, currently trying to post every sunday

word count: 1223

likes, reblogs, replies, and requests are always appreciated, thank you for taking the time to read my work :)

warnings: suggestive content, spanking

Part 1, Part 2

・❥・Miya Atsumu ・❥・

The sharp squeak of sneakers against the gym floor grew louder as you stepped inside, each stride bringing you closer to the volleyball court, minding your own business. Out of nowhere, a sharp smack stung your backside, making you yelp in surprise. Whipping around, you found your boyfriend, Atsumu, standing a few feet away, hands on his hips and a wide, toothy grin stretched across his face.

"Miya Atsumu!" you barked, glaring daggers at him as your face burned. Your face twitched slightly as you tried to hold back the smile threatening to creep in.

"Relax, darlin'!'' he said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. "It's slap ass Friday! I can't not participate in the tradition, especially if my girlfriend is caked up like the baddie she is," he winked.

"That is not an excuse!" you snapped, now smiling as you marched toward him.

"C'mon, it was just a lil' tap!" he teased, laughing as he sidestepped your attempt to hit his ass back. "Ain't my fault ya got such a smackable—"

"Finish that sentence, and I'll make sure you don't forget what Friday's are all about," you warned, cutting him off.

Atsumu laughed even harder, backing up as you lunged at him. "Yer cute when yer mad, ya know that?" he called over his shoulder, making a quick retreat toward the entrance of the court.

"Get back here, you coward!"

"Catch me if ya can, babe!" he shouted, jogging away with that infuriating grin plastered on his face, fully enjoying the chase.

You eventually gave up after running up and down the court a few times, panting as he doubled over in laughter. "I hate you," you muttered in between breaths, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

"Ya love me," winking again with a wide smile, still completely unrepentant.

・❥・Miya Osamu ・❥・

You were halfway through rearranging your books in your locker when you felt a sharp, unexpected slap on your butt. Spinning around as you held rear end, you found Osamu standing there, munching on a rice ball with his free hand, looking infuriatingly calm.

"Osamu!" you whisper-yelled, your eyes wide as you looked around if anyone else saw. Luckily, no one even had batted an eye.

He glanced at you with a casual raise of his brow, chewing thoughtfully. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me! Did you just—"

"It's Friday," he interrupted, as if that explained everything.

You blinked, your jaw dropping slightly. "That doesn't give you the right to—"

"It's slap ass Friday," he clarified, his tone deadpan, though the faint smirk tugging at his lips gave him away. "Tradition."

You exhaled sharply, pressing your fingers to your temples. "Unbelievable."

Osamu leaned against the lockers beside you, leaning towards you, watching your reaction with quiet amusement. "You're not that mad though, are ya?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

"Don't push your luck, 'Samu," you muttered, though your cheeks burned at his smirk.

He let out a quiet chuckle, his voice dipping even lower as he leaned in more, mere centimeters from your lips. "Guess I'll be seein' ya next Friday."

・❥・Iwaizumi Hajime ・❥・

You were lazily scrolling through your phone while walking to your next period, completely oblivious to the sharp-eyed boy trailing behind you.

Iwaizumi had been watching you from a few paces back, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. It was Friday after all, and he had an opportunity too perfect to pass up.

Just as you rounded the corner near the lockers, you felt it: a sudden spank on your butt that had you freezing mid-step. The sting barely registered before you spun around, your eyes wide with a mix of shock and indignation.

He stood frozen a few feet away, his hand still raised as if caught in the act. His smirk immediately gave way to panic as he saw the fire in your eyes. "W-what? It's slap ass Friday babe!" he blurted out, already stepping back defensively.

"Excuse me?!" you huffed, crossing your arms. "What makes you think you get a free pass to do that?!"

He groaned, his free hand shooting to the back of his neck as he avoided your glare. "You literally said it was fine last time," he muttered under his breath, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks.

You raised an eyebrow. "I said it was fine with a warning! Not—" You gestured to wildly at him, "—this ambush!"

"Well, sorry for making it fun," he quipped, but the redness in his face betrayed the cool exterior he was trying to maintain.

"You're impossible." You let out an exasperated sigh, but the corner twitched upward in amusement. He looked like a puppy that had just been scolded for chewing up your shoes.

"Alright, alright," he relented, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Next time, you'll get a heads up."

"I'll believe it when I see it," you retorted, brushing past him, though the faint smile on your face gave away that you weren't entirely mad.

The following week, you were standing with a group of friends, distracted by conversation. Iwaizumi slid into the seat next to you, casual as ever, but leaned in closer than usual. You turned your head, confused, only for him to murmur two words that sent you into fight-or-flight mode:

"Brace yourself."

"What—"

Before you could finish the question, he was already jogging off, throwing you a grin over his shoulder as you yelled his name loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear.

It was a game to him now. And while you hated to admit it, you didn't really mind being the target.

・❥・Oikawa Tōru ・❥・

You had just stepped out into the courtyard when you heard someone shout, "Y/N-chan! Watch out!"

Before you could even process the warning, a loud slap echoed across the yard. You gasped at the fiery sting on your ass and turned around to see your boyfriend standing a few feet away, grinning like he’d just won a trophy.

"Tōru!" you shouted, your face burning as a few students nearby snickered.

"Babe, it's slap ass Friday you know!" he said dramatically, pointing at you like he'd just revealed some universal truth.

"Who even made up this stupid rule?!" you shot back, taking a step toward him, your glare promising revenge.

"You're wasting time yelling when you should be chasing me!" he teased, already jogging backward with that signature smirk plastered on his face.

"Come back here, you absolute ass!" you yelled, immediately taking off after him. He darted through the crowd with skillful footwork, weaving between classmates and laughing loudly every time you got close.

When you finally cornered him near the vending machines, you were panting and fuming. Oikawa held up his hands in surrender, still smirking. "Alright, alright, I admit it—I deserved to be chased. But you can't deny that was a perfect hit."

"Oh, I can deny it," you huffed, reaching out to smack his shoulder. He dodged at the last second, laughing as you glared at him.

"Don't be mad, Y/N-chan," he said, leaning in with an overly sweet smile. "It's all in good fun, right?"

"You're lucky I don't trip you next time, Tōru," you muttered, though a small grin tugged at your lips.

"Next time?" he echoed, grinning wider. "Does that mean you're already looking forward to next Friday?"

"You're impossible, you know that?"

tetsuswaifu © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to @tetsuswaifu

[plazmafields]

Kerry opened his eyes just enough to see the room blurred, fuzzy behind a familiar haze he was too tired to place. He yawned, sprawling out on the bed, and slowly realized the abundance of space. While it worked out well that V wasn't a starfish sleeper like him, Kerry still expected to feel the merc somewhere close by.

He groaned as his eyes opened fully and he let his head fall to the left. He didn't see V in bed, but did spot a silhouette perched on the windowsill.

“V?” Kerry said, voice raspy, rubbing what he thought was sleep from his eyes. “What fuckin’ time is it?”

V didn't answer, and when Kerry finished wiping his eyes, the haze hadn't gone away. As his vision focused, he saw the gentle glow of a cigarette in V's hand.

“You smokin’?” Kerry asked as he rose from bed, an exaggerated yawn escaping him as he stretched upward.

“Go back to bed, Kerry.”

He froze, any remnants of sleep culled by a familiar cadence. The voice was V's, but that tone.

After his initial shock died down, the feeling was immediately replaced with annoyance. Kerry threw on his robe and took heavy steps toward V's body. He snatched the cigarette away, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke back in his face.

“V doesn't smoke.” He put out the cigarette in one of the synth-bonsai nearby.

“We have an arrangement,” Johnny huffed.

“Uh-huh. I'll be sure ask him about that once you fuck off.”

Johnny rolled his eyes as Kerry walked off toward the bar. No matter if it was 1 a.m. or 6 a.m., it was definitely too early to be drinking.

“Thought seein’ you again was a one time thing.” Johnny heard mumbled from the next room, but wasn’t sure he was supposed to answer. He stood from the windowsill and walked toward the bar himself, leaning against the wall in a way V never did: hips jutted out, shoulders rolled forward. Johnny wasn’t used to being shorter than his bandmate.

“Don’t get to choose when I’m in control, ya know. Not like I wanted to wake up naked in bed with you. Might be my worst nightmare, in fact.”

Kerry sneered and knocked back a shot. “So, what? V just get sick ‘a bein’ behind the wheel of his own damn body? Figured you could drive for a bit?”

Johnny rolled his eyes, but stayed uncharacteristically quiet under Kerry’s scrutinous gaze.

“The fuck you doin’ here, Johnny?” Kerry pressed further.

Johnny glanced up to meet Kerry’s expectant eyes and sighed. “Had a seizure in his sleep. Usually the Relic’s way of puttin’ me in charge. Could fight it, but that only makes things worse for V, so here I fuckin’ am.”

Kerry’s eyes scrunched closed as he rested his elbows on the bar and hung his head in his hands. Johnny took the time to make himself a drink, taking it over to the cluttered coffee table and sitting on the edge. He sipped as Kerry grumbled to himself, “Fuckin’ ‘course he did. Said he didn’t get ‘em anymore, said shit was slowin’ down. And now I gotta hear it from Johnny. No, that’s preem—fuckin’ preem, actually, V—thanks for that…asshole.”

“Feel like I’m the middleman here. Gotta bring this up with him, ya know. Can’t relay nothin’ while I'm in the driver’s seat. ‘Specially not right now, he’s still asleep. Kinda. Hard to really explain how it all—”

Kerry slammed a whiskey bottle down on the bar. “CAN YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!? Jesus fucking Christ, forgot how much you insert yourself in every fuckin’ aspect of my life.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow at the bottle, surprised it hadn’t cracked with the force.

“You die; somehow that becomes my problem. I’m movin’ on, movin’ up. I date a guy; acts just like you. Hated that, fuckin’ weird. Dump his ass, find a new fling. Wants to grow his hair out; starts lookin’ like you. Get married—fuckin’ married—do you understand the level of fucking desperate I was at to get married just so I would stop fuckin’ men that reminded me of you? Got any idea how much that fucked with me?”

Johnny couldn’t remember the last time he was speechless. But there he was, jaw slack, as Kerry unloaded fifty years of frustration.

Kerry was pacing the room at that point, arms crossed, not even noticing the sleeves of his robe sliding off his shoulders. “Then you bust down my fuckin’ door, fuck with my guitar—MY fucking guitar, that I had tuned that way on purpose, might I fuckin’ add…”

Kerry stopped, back to Johnny and hands in the air like he was about to scream. But he lowered his hands slowly as he said under his breath, “And there’s V. wrapped up in all your bullshit…and he just had to be perfect.”

He let those words hang in the air for a moment, hands trembling at his sides. Johnny could barely make out the breathy voice as Kerry whispered, “He’s perfect, and somehow he’s you. It always comes back to you.”

The gentle hum of the fridge behind the bar was all they could hear, both processing…that. Kerry took a couple steps back, the backs of his thighs colliding gently with the arm of the couch. He sat, not allowing himself to look at Johnny.

“Shit…” Johnny murmured. “Knew you wanted to fuck me all those years ago. Didn’t realize just how bad.”

Kerry slowly turned his head toward the dead rocker possessing V’s body. His eyes were slightly red, and Johnny swore his eyeliner was running at the edges. “That’s what you took from that?” Kerry’s voice was flat, void of any emotion. “Really?”

He hardly gave Johnny a second to respond before he stood and sauntered back to the bar, chugging the unexpectedly intact whiskey bottle. Johnny had only enough time to blink before he saw the bottle flying across the room at him. He ducked, the bottle shattering off the glass railing behind him.

Johnny was on his feet in an instant, screaming as much as V’s docile vocal cords would allow, “Are you out of your goddamn mind!? Yell at me all you want, but don’t take this out on V!”

It was an all too familiar song and dance. Kerry didn't move an inch as Johnny stomped toward him, just leaned back against the bar, crossing one leg over the other, one arm under the other.

“I'm not like you,” said in the calmest of tones. “I don't take shit out on him. Not like you took shit out on me whenever Alt stood you up. Not like you took shit out on Rogue whenever I was over your shit. Not like you took shit out on Alt whenever Rouge wouldn't answer your calls.”

Johnny's hands were trembling in their balled form, fists begging to act, mind telling them to hold. “Tryin’ to fix all that.” He growled through his teeth.

“Good luck. Now give him back to me.”

Minutes seemed to pass as their gaze held, Johnny trying—genuinely—to reach V; Kerry waiting with tired eyes and an impenetrable emotional wall.

Finally, after trying to force their nervous system to swap, Johnny's hands unclenched and he looked away. “Can't just switch places like that. Trust me, it'd make all this a lot easier if we could.”

Kerry looked at him a moment longer before rolling his eyes and turning back to the liquor shelves to grab another drink. “Whatever. Just make sure he—”

A struggled groan interrupted him. He tried to keep the glance over his shoulder casual, but the very act of looking at all revealed his worry. He watched as Johnny stumbled back onto the couch, clutching his head and Relic slot. With one last sharp breath, Johnny's eyes drifted open, V's hand relaxed over the Relic slot, Johnny's fingers stopped digging into his skull, and V's breath steadied.

Kerry tried to read their movements, to tell which one was sitting on the couch at that moment. Different parts of their body seemed to exhibit different mannerisms. Some V's, some Johnny's, some twitched like it couldn't decide from whom to take its orders.

Suddenly V was gripping his head again, and muttering under his breath, “Ah, fffffuck…” No one said it as softly as him. Certainly not Johnny.

Kerry finished filling his glass, walked over to the couch, and tapped V on the shoulder to offer it to him. “Hey.”

V looked up at him with cloudy eyes, sparks and pixels still popping. It took him a moment to process the scene his Kiroshis were transmitting to his brain. It was like an entire system reboot, everytime. After a few blinks, and his eyes darting between the whiskey glass and the man holding it, V gingerly took the cup and gave a weak smile. “Hey, Ker.”

“Y’alright?”

V sipped the drink, unable to taste yet. “Will be in a sec. Just gotta…recalibrate.”

Kerry nodded mindlessly before taking a seat next to V. The real V; body, mind, and soul. He eyed him with a look somewhere between caution and skepticism. Those hazel eyes that had been drilling into him seconds ago now regarded the whiskey in V's hands with a pleased arch of the brow. Hands that threatened to hurt—bruises on the knuckles to prove they could—held the glass delicately, touch so light that gravity should have been pulling it away. Lips that moments prior had delivered burning words so casually, now wet with liquor, V's tongue flicking out to clear them of the remnants.

Kerry wasn't thinking as his hand rose and the back slid across V's jaw, before deft fingers curled under the younger man's chin. V turned his head as Kerry's fingers instructed, only having a moment to look confused before he was pulled into a kiss.

It felt like an apology, soft and hesitant, checking in to make sure all was forgiven. He let it continue, despite the wariness behind each touch of their lips. V set his glass on the coffee table before using his newly freed hand to bring Kerry in closer, cupping the back of his neck.

“Hey,” V pulled back slightly, “what's up?”

Kerry kept his eyes closed for a second too long, and when they opened, his gaze looked past V, to the glass railing behind him. Another beat before he said, “Johnny was out.”

Following his eyeline to the railing, V saw shattered glass and a puddle of expensive spirits. A quick scan of the scene showed the bottle's trajectory, and the speed at which it had flown.

“He, uh…say somethin’ to piss you off?” V looked back to his lover, Kerry's eyes still glued to the crime scene.

“Eh, when doesn't he?” Kerry shrugged, finally looking V in the eye.

“Hey, look…I'm sorry you have to—”

“Told me you weren't gettin’ seizures anymore.”

V's eyes darted back into place, locking with Kerry's.

“Yeah. Wasn't for a while.”

“So you lied to me? What, thought it would make me worry less?” He still felt angry from his unresolved fight with Johnny, aware his wording was directing that left over anger at V, despite having no hand in—or memory of—the argument.

“Nonono,” V rushed to absolve himself, “you know I wouldn't. They just…stopped for a bit, then came back outta nowhere. Thought I was gettin’ better, genuinely.” He held either side of Kerry's neck.

Kerry stared for a moment before looking down at V's lips again. “You tell him he could smoke while he's runnin’ the show?” His thumb traced along V's bottom lip, over the cuts and scrapes he always came home with.

“Tastin’ it now. Fucker…” He was going to say more, but as his lips tingled from Kerry's absent stroking, V just watched Kerry's eyes slowly blink.

“What'd he say?” V asked after a long, tense moment, Kerry petting his lips all the while.

Kerry didn't answer, but his movements paused.

“Like you, V. A lot. And it doesn't have shit to do with Johnny, okay?”

V felt himself recoil with disbelief, “Johnny accuse you of usin’ me to get to him?”

Kerry sighed, hand sliding around to the back of V's neck to pull him in, resting their heads together. “Just need you to know I'm into you. Sure, might not've met if it weren't for that bastard, but if we had, can promise I'd still be into you.”

V smiled and placed a hand over the arm that held him. “I'm super into you, too, Ker. Like, crazy ‘bout you. Got no idea how I'd get through the day if I didn't have you waitin’ for me.”

Kerry pulled back a little, grinning. “What, think I just sit at home all day hopin’ you'll pop in? Like a sad puppy?”

V rolled his eyes and pushed forward for another kiss. “Fuck off, know what I meant.” V said between the touching of their lips.

Kerry stood quickly, pulling V up to continue their kiss. He broke away once they were both up, “Take your fuckin’ pills and get in bed.”

V laughed as he followed Kerry to the bedroom. “Dunno if I'm tired anymore.”

“Who said anything about sleepin’?” Kerry said in a devious tone as his robe fell to the floor.