#NO HATE I just think it’d be so fucking funny

[aqualad-is-taller]

loved seeing the blorbo and blorbo-in-laws in crisis on infinity earths but earth 2003 was fucking diabolical

[the-meme-monarch]

category 7 looey moment

the doodle page was drawn before all their conversations were found, but their trinket Had been, (and my sibling got the scraps convo before it was put on the wiki) so i was anticipating them being more friendly w razzle & dazzle(complimenting trinkets) and goob(both having dual colors) than they turned out to be <:] but he IS very friendly with poppy and that makes me happy. also shrimpo death threats

none of this is ship art 👍💥💥

[ohitslen]

College (uni??) AU catering to my own interests as it should always be hehe :)

[olasketches]

when rewatching jjk season one there was this moment where sukuna said how he was going to make yuuji pay for wanting to use him against that special grade curse they fought on their first mission together BUT THEN once he himself fought and defeated the said curse he asked and WAITED for yuuji to switch back to his body, which I find absolutely amusing cause like this guy is moody af and undoubtedly evil, but he just… wanted to have some fun?? let out some steam?? kill a couple of curses and people, make fun of yuuji while he’s at it and then he’d just go back to his domain, have a nap or whatever. and you know what? sukuna is completely unredeemable there’s just no doubt about that, but I can totally believe he can be domesticated.

[robininthewindow]

I love subtitles so much

But here the thing

They don’t fucking work if they don’t say the right things

[diorkittys]

somethin’ sweet before i go ˚ ♡ ⋆｡ vi + fem!reader

synopsis : when your arrest turns out to be an attractive, arrogant zaunite who’s, obviously, had a bad night, there’s one thing she asks for before being turned in. c’mon, can’t you give her something sweet before handing her to a cold cell?

—TW : kinda hate fucking , fingering , dom!vi , afab , post jinx attack

“hey, princess, any chance you’re sweet enough to loosen these up a bit?” your pinkette prisoner grunts, rolling a kink out her neck.

your expression is nothing short of unimpressed for the taunting games your newest problem has come up with. glaring up from your paperwork, you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration, “quit with the pet names—do you find your situation funny?” you turn around to face the arrogant zaunite, cuffed hands extended behind her back. you found it rather annoying how nonchalant she was—or worst, she found this amusing. “you are being detained for assault,” you continue, “that’s a night in jail, ‘sweet stuff.’” mocking her previous taunt.

she just scoffed, but it was far from being insulted. a sly smirk and dangerous blue eyes peaking beneath cherry strands looked up at you.

“ya’ think i’m sweet, princess?”

you hear the familiar clanking of metal rubbing against each other, bringing attention to her restraints.

“undo the cuffs and i’ll treat you sweet all nigh-“ her prurient statement cut off by the force of your forearm knocking into her chest, subsequently shoving her against the wall.

“you forget yourself, trencher,” your arm jabs in the smug, although rather charming (and quite attractive), outlaw’s chest, and her eye twitches in a wince. “you’re in my territory now—it’d suit you well to not make a fool of me; i’m sure you’ve been taught the same in that… mess of a city across the bridge.”

your tongue held venom as you almost seemingly spat out the insult like it was truly sickening to speak of. there’s an unspoken challenge being held between the both of your glares. you tack on a huff from your flared nostrils to seal the conversation and to warn the zaunite in front of you from talking back.

but as the tense silence subsides, the cherry-haired woman draws out a teasing smirk, scoffing again, “ever been to the undercity, sweet-cheeks?”

her question seemed more rhetorical than anything. you didn’t answer, clenching your jaw, keeping your eyes fixated on hers as to not give a look of submission. she took your quietness as a ‘no’ and raised a brow,

“thought so.”

she leaned her head in closer, as close as your arm would allow—although, there wasn’t much distance to set you apart anyways. her eyes lidded now as your confidence wavered from the almost predatory air hung around her; like when a lion, hidden in the tall grass, gets a perfect angle of their prey.

“they’d eat that pretty, little ass up as soon as you stepped foot beyond that bridge.”

you gasped, quietly, eyes widened at her obscene words. you could already feel your body betraying you, blood involuntarily heating up the plump of your cheeks.

the arm held sturdy against your prisoner was now weak, a second thought; not to her, no, that was accordingly.

calloused hands snaked their way to your waist, armored with enforcer gold, a symbol of integrity to wear, resolute.

your eyes flicked to the (god, she is attractive) woman near inches away; you were trapped in a lion’s den, she was already staring back at you.

“how di—when did you…”

so much for standing your ground—your stuttering voice gave it all away.

“what? get those things off?” she chuckled, motioning back behind her, “you were right ‘bout one thing, princess: i learned a whole deal in that ‘mess of a city’.”

she near whispered your quote, not hushed, but emphasized, troublingly so. her hands wandered, dangerously, coming to settle at the plush of your hips, hips that had you bent atop her. a deft thumb pushed pass your attire and gently circled into your bare skin.

“are you… are you gonna hurt me?” you pressed your lips in a fine line, apprehensively awaiting a dreaded answer.

but to your surprise, she paused, then snorted, and in a quick motion, she manhandled you to sit on her lap. you yelped in shock, your hands were rigid against her chest that you were so very close to now; stiff as a board as you feared for the worst.

“can’t a girl want somethin’ sweet before you send me to a cold, hard cell, huh?” now the finger in charge of exploring your supple skin came to swipe at your plush bottom lip. “but if you want it to hurt i can make that happen too.” her voice was sultry, thick with an insatiable desire.

your proximity gave you a chance to see the small initial tattooed on her cheek, “vi.” you spoke out loud, really only for you to memorize.

vi smirked, “yeah, princess? don’t wear it out just yet.”

your brows furrowed, pursing your lips; you tried to move, but vi had a firm hold on your hips that just wouldn’t let up… (not that you even tried that hard). “piltover station will be here soon… we can’t—i can’t be seen like this; this is unprofessional.”

“when’d you make that call?” honestly, vi was barely listening to your reluctance and excuses, busying herself with unfastening your gold belt that you hardly even noticed.

“an hour ago.”

“then we have an hour to ourselves. c’mon, do you really think ‘proper piltover station’ is any more worried about a call for an undercity scum than the rest of the hundred they receive a day? they’re preoccupied with the councilors after that attack… seems to me like they left you out the loop, hot stuff.”

you took offense to her insulting jab at your importance, disregarding her sing-song mockery of addressing piltover station. you reached for her wrist that was unbuttoning the blue fabric of your enforcer two-split skirt, “what is that supposed to mean?”

she took no notice to your grip and pushed aside the outer garment, glancing back up at you through that addictive, crimson hair. she gave a dry smirk, “didn’t mean to rile you up, princess—just meant that i could treat you better than them.”

that betraying flush tickled your cheeks once again, and you, rather hesitantly, let way of your grasp, allowing her to do what she needs.

she snorted, in an amused manner, tapping your thigh, “sit up.” how shameful it was for you, an enforcer, to take commands from anyone else—let alone an… undersider. yet, here you were, standing upright as she told you to, albeit a little more eager than intended; you hoped she hadn’t noticed.

she noticed.

her legs spread out on the chair, making her appear even larger than her stature gave her credit for. she bent over, resting her elbows on her thighs as she pulled at the hem of your khaki shorts. you assisted and looped two thumbs at the waistband to shimmy down your legs. your shorts pooled at your feet and vi leaned back to admire the sexy sight she had in front of her with a grin on her face.

a pretty enforcer, nervous as can be, with a half-undone uniform and pink, lace panties exposed just for her. what a contrasting view. you were captivating. already trained to take orders like a puppy, she’d think in her crude mind; you’d be her good girl for a while, you’d be so good for her.

with two fingers, she motioned for you to come sit back down on her lap; the way her legs manspread was inviting enough. you obliged, holding onto her broad shoulders.

those engrossing fingers came back to handle your hips, slowly moving to cup the mound of your ass and kneading. you huffed, painted nails digging into her trapezius.

“ya’ like pink, princess?” she mentioned your cute, lacey panties; although, now stained a darker shade.

your eyes flickered up to her hair before timidly searching anywhere else to keep your focus busy. vi found that cute, not admitting that that turned her on way more than it should.

“i don’t disdain it.” you purse your lips, “and quit calling me that.”

vi chuckled, “but you’re poised, like a princess.”

“you have no idea of me.”

“well, i know you’re risking your title just so i can get you off,” fingers go to trace the hem of your panties, her middle drags along your clit muffled by the fabric. she grins, “and by the looks of it, you’re enjoying the thrill.”

you gasp at the sensation, a feeling your pussy was aching for. “is it because you know we might get caught? geez, princess, you into that kind of thing?” she almost laughs at you, but not to mock you; she finds that hot as fuck.

adept hands push the annoying polyester to the side. fingers, rather spider-like, creep over your throbbing cunt; middle and index gather your pooling slick to act as lube as she glides over your clit.

you bite your lip to suppress a moan. you find your legs begin to tremble, being forced open by her own, keeping you spread for her to do as she likes.

“i didn’t know topsiders could be so dirty.” this time she does laugh. she rubs at your clit long enough for your heart rate to pick up, long enough for your head to find stability on her shoulder, long enough for you to become a mess in her hands… but, not long enough for you to get off just yet.

vi reaches down to your neglected hole, pressing her index atop it, deep enough for an audible squelch to echo through your office, which in turn makes vi groan. you mewl, nails digging deeper into the muscle of her back.

“not so poised now, though.” she mutters, mostly to herself. with your dripping slick, it takes nothing more than a swift movement for vi to slide her index inside you, bottoming out knuckles deep. you keen, arching off her chest. the scratch from her bandages only added fuel to the fire.

“fuck.” vi’s grip on your hip strengthens, almost certainly leaving a prominent bruise later. “do that for me again, princess.”

and she didn’t have to ask because as she pulls her finger almost fully out, tantalizingly slow, she greedily shoves it right back in, curling the tip of it to hit in that, god, that perfect spot you know so well.

and, again, you keen, long and guttural—like a silent scream. subconsciously, your pelvis bucks into her hand, searching for more than you could even take.

after a few minutes of this, vi deems herself your voice and determines you’re ready for two. she pulls out entirely, much to your dismay, teasing you with a pause.

you brace yourself for something that never comes, and you huff, slightly pushing yourself up off her shoulder,

“vi… don’t st—“

and she stuffs her middle and index into your pretty, impatient pussy.

“ah!”

“who said i was stopping, pumpkin? we just started.” you slam your head back to its assigned spot.

vi thought she was right in this moment: you looked a complete and utter mess. it was one thing to fuck a pretty girl, it was another thing that she had a topsider, an officer—someone who, to piltover, was a woman of dignity and honor… a rich, privileged somebody who hated zaunites, found them filthy and worthless…hunched over her shoulder with a sopping cunt you were practically begging her to abuse. now that’s ironic. (and was you coming undone for her maybe a little bit of a victory for her hatred of topside, that she was degrading—fucking someone so noble?)

“shit, baby,” vi cursed, biting her lip. her whole train of thought did nothing but make her more horny, and she pumped extra hard this time, making sure even the graze of her knuckle filled you up.

“when’s the last time someone’s fucked you like this?” she chuckled—you hated her smug little laugh.

you sneered, just not before you moaned into the crook of her neck, breath fanning over her black-inked tattoos. “that’s, fuck, none of your concern, underside.” you spat, but, really, your words held no weight, not like this.

“hey, no need for the name calling, princess; if you’re a virgin too that’s totally fine—honestly kinda hot.” she teased, grabbing the mound of your ass to raise you up and slam back down on her fingers. you cried, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in that (rememberable) cherry hair.

“i’m not!—i’ve had—ugh! i’ve done this plenty of times… not that, ah, you should need to know.”

“oh yeah? you fuck a lot of your inmates then?… or is that just my privilege?” vi leaned into your ear, knowing that’d get you going. and what do you know? it did.

and you would’ve argued back, head picked up and everything, had she not curled her fingers the way she did or twist to find an ever better playing field or, god! even the lechery in her voice had you toppling over, had you right there! yes, fuck, right there!

“fuck, vi, right there! keep going! yeah, right there, ugh!�� you moaned, legs shaking, trying desperately to close and hide away from how fucking good this felt.

you bucked into her hand and you didn’t have to tell vi twice because she was already pumping extra hard and faster than before, with a combination of her thumb rubbing circles into your swollen clit.

“shit, princess. almost there?” she already knew the answer. she was groaning as if she was fucking herself; just the pure sight of you, of this, was enough… although, she’d need to engrave this memory into her brain and use it later to get off herself (she could use this picture of you to get off for years it felt like).

“vi!”

you sang like gospel, pulling her hair like you’d fall if you hadn’t. you came hard, right on her bandaged fingers and she road you through it until the only thing you could hear in the room was the lewd, wet noises coming from your hole.

she stuffed you full of your own juices and at that point, you couldn’t tell if that or her hands were more filling.

you were both panting, one more than the other. vi hoisted your left leg over hers to hold you bridal style as you settled down. bringing her hand to the light, she pulled apart her middle and index to watch your slick web between them and she weakly laughed.

blue eyes looked over to the gold, industrial clock you had sitting on your work-desk, reading a quarter til’ 12. she sighed, picking you up with her before setting you on the chair you had originally handcuffed her to.

“looks like i gotta go, princess.” she feigned innocent, as if this whole interaction was a drive by. one by one she picked up discarded clothing and crouched at your legs to dress you back up. you, too tired to protest to being treated like a child, let her dress you like a doll, even buckling up your belt.

you watched as she went to write something on a piece of sticky note paper you had sitting by your confidential files before turning to walk out the door, running a hand through her hair.

“you can’t leave—you’re… you’re under arrest.” there was no confidence in your tone, just a fucked out raspy voice.

vi stopped before leaving, hands in her pockets, “tell ‘em officer kiramann already came to pick me up, they won’t give you trouble.” she threw the hood of her red jacket over her head, reaching for the doorknob.

“oh, and… meet me at my place if you wanna do this again… okay, princess?”

[zeltqz]

PICS & VIDEOS — caleb

✈︎ content warning | references hidden waves memory (sick caleb), phone sex, i made tara a freak cuz why not, simone hates caleb lol, suggestive texts, lingerie photos, caleb sends a dp, reader sends her wet fingers lol, no actual sex yet, just phone sex, sexually frustrated reader, caleb whimpers cuz i want him to, colonel caleb era, caleb abuses emoticons lol i love him ✈︎ synopsis | you are getting sick and tired of caleb always pulling away from potential kisses. frustrated, you take it up with your friends who give you advice on how to get him to fold. send him pics.

“I’m telling you Tara, he literally won’t make the first move. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

Tara rubbed her chin. “Hm. And you’re sure he likes you?”

Beside you, Simone scoffed. “Unfortunately yes. It’s obvious.”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to address her one-sided beef with Caleb. “Yes, Tara.”

“How is it obvious? I only met him once.”

“And you couldn’t see how obvious it was?” Simone added, genuinely surprised Tara missed the obvious clues. “He wouldn’t stop staring at her like all day. The whole time we ate, he was just staring at her. Not even subtle too. I would’ve thought you two kissed by now, or at the very least fucked.” Simone looked at you now. “Seriously, why don’t you just make the first move?”

“I dunno?! It’s weird…and as much as I dream about just grabbing his face and kissing him, in the moment I just chicken out…”

Tara hummed, stroking her chin again. “I see. I see. And you know for certain he likes you? Besides the staring, and all.”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You looked down at the table, at the fries sitting on your tray, reminiscing about the last time you were in Skyhaven. 

Caleb had caught a cold from standing in the rain for too long, and the two of you were on awkward terms after an argument. He didn’t want you to see him while sick but eventually relented and let you inside his room. You checked his temperature and he was burning up, so you didn’t want to take your hands off his face, caressing his red cheeks, embracing his warmth. You sang for him, and he leaned in, and you just knew it’d finally be the moment you kissed. You even closed your eyes shut, waiting to feel his lips against yours, but he pulled himself away and turned to the side. Obviously you were frustrated, no denying that, and you were about to just leave his room before he pulled you in for a hug. Though you didn’t kiss, the hug was more intimate than you’d imagined. Every time Caleb was sick, even in the past, he rarely let you see him in that state. To see him so weak and vulnerable, unable to stop coughing, his red cheeks and ears. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to just be with him.

You were unaware of how long you were just staring off into space as you recalled the memory from a few weeks ago. Tara and Simone share a look with each other. 

“Um, hello?” Simone waved in front of your face. You blinked yourself back to reality and looked between the both of them. Simone got a good look at your face and clicked her tongue. “You’re so whipped.”

“I’m not!”

Tara cheered. “Wait, were you thinking about him?!” She questioned, and your face flushed even harder. You looked away, and she cheered even louder. “Tell me what you were thinking about!”

Simone, who’d rather die than admit she was curious, rested her elbow on the table, cheek in palm as she turned to look at you, waiting for the explanation.

You sighed and told them the story in extreme detail about your last encounter with Caleb in Skyhaven. Though it started on bad terms, the two of you had been even closer than before. You text every single day whenever he can respond, and when he’s unable to come to the phone, you always spam him with funny videos, and emojis. And he responds to every single one of them. You two fall asleep on the phone almost every night, if he doesn’t come home too late from work, and wake up to see either him still dead asleep, or the call being cut, but he always follows it up with:

Sorry for hanging up, i had to head to work ;-; ill text you as soon as i come back :D 

You hadn’t spoken to him in the last few days though, as he was leading a team to explore the Deepspace Tunnel and would be out of service for at least 5 days. It’s only day 3 and you’ve been missing him so much, it’s crazy. He’s what you think of when you fall asleep, and wake up. You’re not even safe from him in your dreams.

“I’ve got a question,” Tara says, raising her hand up.

“Proceed.” You gesture for her to continue.

She leaned in across the table, cupping her hand around her mouth. “Can I be the maid of honour at your wedding?”

“TARA!” you exclaim. Simone nearly snorts her milkshake up her nose at your reaction. The two of them start laughing and you chuckle a bit yourself. They continue talking and you whip out your phone to open your messages with Caleb, eying the message you sent him this morning.

08:44 I just woke upppp. I’m heading to lunch with some friends today!!! I’ll send you some photos you can salvate over once u get back

You swipe to the camera and snap a photo of your half eaten burger with fries, sending it in chat with a yummy emoji.

13:33 Bet u wish this was u huhhhhhhhhhhh

You throw the fact he has to be on a strict diet in his face, adding a few random emojis before turning off your phone. 

“She was texting him just now,” Simone’s voice startled you. 

“No I wasn’t.”

“Look at that grin on your face.”

You quickly drop the smile you didn’t know existed off your face. “I’m not grinning!”

“You so are!” Simone cackled, leaning into your personal space, eyeing your phone. “Show me what you said.”

“It’s not much,” you say, turning your phone back on. “Just send him a picture of my food.”

Simone looked at the one sided replies, how you’ve been spamming him with messages for the last three days and he hasn’t been online since. She raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, is he ghosting you?”

“What? No.” You take your phone back and hand it to Tara who was struggling to see from the other side of the table. “He’s just on a mission right now. Five days long. I always spam him with he’s unavailable. He says I can tell him whatever is on my mind.”

“Mm-hm,” Simone hummed.

“You know what would be so crazy?” Tara said, scrolling through your messages. 

“What?” you and Simone say in unison.

“If you sent him nudes.”

You nearly choked on air, Simone’s eyes widening at the words coming out of Tara’s mouth. 

“It’s always the innocent looking ones, huh.”

Tara giggled. Meanwhile you were still in a state of shock. 

“Um??? Isn’t that a bit far?”

“Well, no,” Tara defended. “Think about it. You two are basically dating already, just haven’t made it official. And you said you want him to make the first move right? How will he know if its okay to do or not if he doesn’t know you are just as into him as he’s into you? And since you don’t wanna kiss him first, show him you’re into him at least with a few picturesssssss.”

On the surface she wasn’t wrong, you couldn’t deny that. Growing up, Caleb had seen your body before, it wasn’t unusual. Beach days where you were mainly in bikinis, heatwaves where you were wearing mainly shorts and crop tops. He’d even walked in on you changing a few times, and vice versa. It wouldn’t be anything he hadn’t vaguely seen before. But the thought of actually doing it make a knot form in your stomach. But it also made arousal pool between your legs at the thought of him seeing you in a different light.

Maybe this would be the transition you both needed to take your relationship to a different level.

You finally spoke after a while of contemplation. “I mean, sure. But I’ve never taken any before. I don’t even own sexy clothes.”

Simone waved you off. “It’s not that hard. Men are so easy to please. I got you.” She finished her milkshake in a few sucks and set the empty cup down on the table. “Come on, let’s go shopping.”

“Shopping?” you questioned.

Tara squealed. “Shopping, yes!” She quickly got up from her seat and dragged you out of yours. 

Tara and Simone led you out of the food court  and into Victoria’s Secret a few floors down. The three of you spent the next two hours picking different outfits, ranging from two piece sets, to one pieces, bralettes and panties. You ended up spending more than you thought you would’ve but it was all worth it. 

You took them back to your house and the photoshoot began. Was it awkward at first? Yes. You barely wore tight fitted, revealing outfits, especially ones as sexual as this. But after a few test photos, your body loosened up and you gradually became more confident. 

“Press your boobs together,” Tara shouted from behind the camera. You were laying flat on your back, your head hanging off the bed as you stared into the camera. 

“This position looks silly,” you comment. 

“You look smoking hot though!!”

Simone moves behind Tara and bends down to peek at the camera. She wrinkled her nose. “I agree. It looks a bit silly.”

You sat up, sighing. “Thank you.”

“Okay wait, what about sucking a finger into your mouth? Would Caleb be into that? Ooh! Or arching your back on the bed?” The longer you spent with Tara today, you realised she’s not as innocent as she looks. She really is the mastermind behind the operation. From picking out each lingerie set, to looking up seductive posts on Pinterest to make you copy. 

“Are the ones we took now not enough?” you asked, muscles and back aching from bending over and twisting your body in such unnecessary positions. 

“If you’re this tired after some nudes, how are you gonna get the stamina to get fucked hard by Caleb?” Tara retorted. 

“I—”

Simone grabbed the phone and began scrolling through the photos. She picked out one she really liked and turned the phone to you. “This is the one you should send.”

It wasn’t any of the over the top poses Tara suggested. It was plain and simple but it got the job done. You were laying flat on the bed, holding the camera up in the form of a selfie, and biting your fingernail. The camera covered everything from your lips, down to your mid thigh, covered in fishnets from the lingerie.  

“This one? Really?” you asked as you examined the photo. You weren’t denying you looked hot in it, but doubts were starting to fill your mind. What if he thinks you’re being desperate? Or if he thinks it’s distasteful to expose yourself like this for no reason. Though you know Caleb would never think of you that way, your brain can’t help but convince you otherwise. 

“Or or maybe I should just delete them,” you request in a panic as Tara and Simone go through all the photos to see if there’s any better ones. 

Upon hearing your request, Tara nearly breaks her neck with how quickly she looked up. “ExCUZE ME?! Delete them?! For what???! Why!”

“Because! What if he doesn’t like them? Or thinks I’m…desperate?” You scratch your arm, looking down at your thighs. 

Simone’s nose twitched. “Then I’ll beat his ass.”

Tara added. “Well, it’ll suck if he does. But with how you described him, I don’t think he’d look at you that way. And if he does, you can always just say “oops meant to send to someone else” to save face. OH! We can even do the prank where we dress up as a boy and take photos to make him jealous!”

Hearing that, Simone smirked. “I’ll happily do that for you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No you’re right. Caleb wouldn’t do that. He’s never as much belittled me or even insulted me before in my life. I genuinely cant think of a negative think he’s said to me.”

“Soooooooo what’s the holdup?” Tara commented. 

You shrugged. “I’ll send it. I just need time to process before I do it.” They both deadpanned you and you continued, feeling the urge to defend yourself. “You guys won’t understand! I’ve known him for over a decade! Almost 14 years! This kinda stuff you don’t send to someone like that without at least thinking it through.”

“You’re right,” they both hesitantly agreed. 

You don’t end up sending Caleb the picture that night. Or the night after that. The day he’s supposed to return from his mission, you’re in bed, scrolling back through your messages. With no fault of yours, you had gone months without contact with him, assuming he was dead and all, but now you can barely even handle a few days. 

His profile displayed a green dot beside his name and you sat up quickly, eyes darting all over your messages and seeing the “Read” Message pop up on each one. 

He responds to each of them one by one, and your smile can’t stop growing as you see him reach the final message, the one about the burger. 

Now you’re just showing off >:( 

Anyway I’m back safe and sound from my mission did ya miss me ;)

yes so much

You responded without missing more than a second. 

Oh didn’t expect you respond that quickly you MUSTVE missed me that bad huh

How much did u miss me? 

You could tell him straight up. Tell him about how you read his messages everyday, thought about him almost every second for the last five days. Or you could just show him. 

You opened your camera roll and picked out the photo. Your thumb trembled over the send button before finally pressing down on it. Your stomach dropped as you saw it send in chat officially. It was too late now. 

Caleb read it and stayed quiet. Thirty seconds passed and he didn’t respond and you felt like you wanted to throw up. Your thumbs were already typing out Tara’s excuse: oh sorry! I meant to send that to someone else 

And before you could press send, Caleb responded. 

Is that for me?

You swallowed. If you said yes, and he hated it, then your excuse wouldn’t work anymore. You decided to risk it all and simply respond truthfully. 

Yes. Is it…bad?

Caleb takes longer to respond than usual and less than thirty seconds later a picture sends in chat. His cock stands tall in frame, precum leaking out from the tip. His hand has a firm grin around the base off it, the tip a reddish hue in comparison to its natural pink colour.

Your breathing stopped as you stared at it. This was Caleb’s dick. You were fucking staring at his dick. 

You swiped out of the picture and sent a 😧😯😮😲 combination. The two of you often communicated through emojis and you weren’t sure how to respond with words. 

Caleb sent crying emojis. 

Did you like it?

Yes? You’ve been hiding that the whole time? 

Says you. I knew your body was gorgeous but fuck. 

You fought the urge to kick your feet together, curling into a ball on your side as you tried to not let his words get to you. Clearing your throat, you refocus yourself and send another message. 

Sooooo what now 🧍‍♀️

I dunno 🧍

You get ready to type a response before he double texts. 

Do you wanna call?

You never thought you’d see the day you’d actually be nervous answering a call from Caleb before. 

Yes

You barely had time to let the message marinate before Caleb started calling. Readying yourself, you pressed the phone up to your ear and swiped. 

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he responded, taking a deep breath. “Is it just me or is this sorta awkward now.”

“No it’s definitely awkward,” you joked, laughing under your breath. 

“I mean, I can always blame you for it.”

“What?” You almost shrieked and broke your back with how quick you sat up from your bed. “How is this my fault?!”

“Nobody asked you to send me that sexy photo out of nowhere,” he joked, tone light despite his words. You didn’t take anything to heart however. 

“Yeah, well be grateful. Otherwise you would’ve died without seeing a girl in lingerie before.”

“How do you know I haven’t seen that before?”

“Because I know you, Caleb.” You said each word slowly. “Or at least I hope you haven’t.” You paused, voice softening ever so slightly. “Have you?”

“I was joking around. Of course I hadn’t. I am assuming though you’d never seen another guys dick before?”

“Well obviously I have. Like in movies and stuff. But not in person.”

“What kind of movies were you watching?” he questioned, suspiciously. 

“You know! Just movies! Shut up,” you whined, ignoring his obnoxious laughter. “Anyway, dudes sent me unsolicited pics in college all the time. I’ve seen dicks before. They weren’t like yours though.” The words spilled from your mouth without even realising you said it. 

“Oh? What’s the difference between mine and theirs?”

You didn’t realise the interest in his tone with how distracted you were, eyes closed and picturing the sight of Caleb’s dick in the black fog of your mind. You could always go back and look at the photo, but you wanted to burn the sight in your memory first. 

“Yours was bigger. And for once, looking at a dick didn’t make me wanna throw up. Theirs were so…ew. Like it was never hard, which is so fucking offensive. If you’re gonna send me that shit unsolicited by the way, at least sprout a hard on or something. Fucking hell.”

Caleb laughed. “You should’ve seen how quick your picture got me hard. It’s not normal.” His voice dropped a little and you inhaled sharply. 

“R—really?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, sounding slightly out of breath, his breathing ragged. 

“What did you like about it?” you questioned, shifting down onto your back on the bed. 

“Everything. Fuck. You—why are you so hot?” His voice betrayed him at that moment. He let out a soft moan and you could hear wet sounds in the background if you listened close enough. 

Your hand trailed down your stomach, entering your panties and softly rubbing your clit. “W—what else?” 

“Your skin. Looks so soft—mm—and your lips around your finger? Holy fuck.” His filter was long gone now, freely speaking his mind about your body. Your thighs clenched together. 

“Do you wish they were wrapped around something else?”

“God yes,” he sounded so whiny, his hand moving faster up and down his aching cock. “You don’t know how much I love your lips.” He says your name and for a moment you freeze up. 

It’s not often he says your name, and you’ve been so used to just hearing him address you as Pipsqueak. Hearing your name roll off his tongue so easily, and with how whiny he sounds right now, you couldn’t help but insert a finger into yourself. 

Your legs twitched as you began pumping your finger in and out, back arching off the bed and an involuntary moan left your throat. “Caleb—”

“Yes, princess? What is it?”

“I wanna see you so bad right now—mm—fuck.” You gasped as you curled your fingers inside you, shoving them as deep as you could. “I need you.”

“I need you more. Shit. I’m gonna cum soon,” he announced, squeezing the tip of his cock whenever his hand reached it. 

“It’s hard to make myself come,”  you whined. You were never able to successfully have an orgasm on your own and it was frustrating. You wanted nothing more than to experience it first hand right now with Caleb. 

“I’ll help you. Shit. I can teach you. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Next time I see you, I promise.”

“Please,” your voice barely reached the mic. 

“Fuck!” he let out a loud moan as he came, heavy pants slowly turning to whimpers as his cock milked him dry. He couldn’t control his breathing for at least thirty seconds and you just listened to him pant until he caught himself. 

Letting out one more shaky exhale, he tried to swallow but his throat was dry. “Fuck my throat hurts.”

You laughed and pulled your fingers out. Unable to reach an orgasm, you frowned. But the promise he left earlier gave you hope. 

“Go drink some water dummy.” You looked down at your fingers, glistening with your slick and contemplated. “Wait Caleb.”

“Hm?”

“Check chat.”

You put the phone on speaker and opened the chat camera, taking a photo of your wet index and middle finger, a string of slick connecting them both. You captioned it:

Drink me instead

Feeling more bold, you sent it without even batting an eye. You could hear the exact moment Caleb processed your message with his sharp inhale.  You heard the sound of screenshots being taken, once, twice, then three times. 

“Okay okay damn chill out,” you said while laughing, Caleb joining in. 

“What does it taste like?” he asked, utterly curious. 

“Come find out,” you responded, voice just as sultry as your words. 

“Don’t tempt me. I’ll come over right now.”

“Wait now?” You glanced at the clock, the time reading almost 2 am. “You have work in the morning don’t you?”

“So what? I have bigger priorities right now.”

On one hand it would be so wrong for the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel to miss work over some pussy, but on the other hand, you hated the goddamn fleet. 

“Well what are you waiting for?”

authors note: can i just say i literally love this man with everything in me like WTF???? HES SO CUTE AND HOT AND I JUST WANNA SQQUEEZE HIS FACE

he brought me out of my writers slump😩��🏽‍♀️

[no-144444]

voicenotes- faking it au

꩜summary: voicenotes lando sends you throughout your first year

꩜pairing: fakeboyfriend! lando norris x fem! fakegirlfriend! actress! reader

Imola, 19th of May, 2024. 1:34am

Hey, just wanted to… I don't know. Call you, or something. I think you’re in the US so you’re probably busy with work right now, but I just… I don’t know. I needed someone to talk to who doesn’t hate me because of my driving. You just hate me for fun. [chuckle] So, yeah. I’m here. I can’t sleep. Don’t really want to eat anything else. Started watching one of your movies, the one with Asa Butterfield? Is that his name? From when you were a kid. Hugo, or something, I think. You were really good in it. [pause] I hope you come to Canada. I want to see you. Ok, bye now. Bye. 

Barcelona, 23rd of June, 2024. 11:23pm

Hey. I know we didn’t go too well in Canada and I just wanted to call you and apologise. I was being a dick. I’m not even your real boyfriend, and I’m sorry I was just being… whatever it was. It was shit and I feel really bad about it. Anyways… [sigh], um, saw some of your interviews for Civil War. Looks great. You and… Wagner Moura, is that his name? You two are funny together. Close. [pause] Umm… [breathes out] yeah. Wondering if you want to come to Austria? No pressure if you’re busy but… I think it’d be good if you came. I got P2 today, in case you didn’t watch. I’m sure you don’t. But yeah. Getting up there for sure. Well, alright. I’ll hopefully see you in Austria. Bye. 

Austria, 31st of June, 2024. 1:52am

Hi. Kinda glad you weren’t there today [chuckle]. Fucking shitshow. I’m kinda… tired of this shit. Everyone just keeps talking and talking and talking and I’m just… trying to drown it out. Thought you’d understand that- [his phone starts ringing], oh shit, that’s you. Um-

[incoming call from Y/n ] 

Hey Lando. Your voice was sickly sweet, knowing exactly what he was going through. How's it going? 

He took a deep breath. I’ve been better. 

Where are you?

Still in Austria. Airport smells like shit and they have no good food spots. 

Are you with Jon? 

[pause] I am. I just… don’t think he’d get it. 

I know what you mean [chuckle]. Most people don’t get murdered online for one simple mistake. 

I knew you’d understand. Thanks for calling me back. 

I’m here for you Lando. This shit isn’t easy. 

You’re telling me. How’s filming going? 

[sigh] It’s… going. Drew and I are breaking our backs but… I don't know. Our director just doesn’t seem happy. I’m sure we’ll work it out though. Have you spoken to Max yet?

Nope [sigh]. I might come visit you. If that’s alright. 

[pause] Yeah. That’s alright. 

Great. Just… want to see you in person. We can post some shit too. 

Sounds good to me. You can come meet Drew and the rest of the crew. 

I’d like that. 

Great. Well, I’ll leave you to your shitty smelling airport but you should really grab some food, yeah? 

I think there’s a muffin place down that way [pause]. I’ll eat. Don’t worry about me now, I might get the impression you tolerate me. 

You’re a lot more tolerable when you’re beaten down by life [chuckle], less of an ago. 

[laughter] I’m glad something good came out of this weekend then, you can tolerate me!

Never said that Norris. 

Sure you didn’t. [pause] I’ll leave you to your boring me-less work. Bye. 

Bye Lando

[end of call] 

Hungary, 21st of July, 2024. 11:53pm

I want to see you again. This weekend was a fucking joke and I need to see someone sane. I’ll come over to you and after Belgium we go away? Call me when you get off work, please. I miss you. Bye. Call me.

Belgium, 28th of July, 2024, 7:49pm 

Hey, I’m on my way to the airport now. Can’t wait to go away, thanks for doing this. [pause] Alright, see you soon! 

Greece, 11th of August, 2024, 2:54am

[Pause] I’m really fucked up and tired right now, but… [hiccup] I miss you. I miss your perfume. I miss your dresses. I miss your hair and how it smells so good. I miss how pretty you look in the morning. I miss sharing a bed. I miss seeing you fully relaxed. I miss you pulling me to go swimming at 8am, even though we could be asleep. I’m sorry I [hiccup] sprung the… y’know on you, but… I don’t know what the fuck to do around you. You make me feel so… I don’t even fucking know. I’m sorry I called you so late. Just… like hearing your voice I guess [Max’s voice in the distance getting closer]. You’re beautiful. Inside and out. Alright, bye. 

Monza, 1st September, 2024, 6:21pm

Hey baby, just wondering where you are? My mum’s here and so’s my dad and they want to meet you, alright, call me when you see this, love you!

Monza, 1st September 2024, 11:35pm

I’m following you to Calgary to see you. I miss you and I feel like shit. Text me, please. [Pause] I’m sorry about earlier but I really don’t know what you wanted me to tell them. What, say their son is so fucking uncontrollable and annoying that he has to pay someone to pretend to be love with him? It’s just… [pause] pathetic. And I know it is, so you don’t need to remind me. 

[Long pause]

They loved you though. They think you’re really smart, way too smart for me. They’re probably right. Too pretty for me too. Anyway, sorry I’m taking this shit out on you. I lo-miss you. See you in Calgary. Bye. 

Azerbaijan, 15th of September, 8:56pm

Hey baby, how are you? Just having breakfast now and then I’m heading to the track. I’m sure you’re asleep but I just wanted to wish you luck today… and say I love you. Right. Call me when you wake up. Bye. Love you. 

navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

faking it au masterlist

taglist: (just comment to be added!)

@n3versatisfied @quinquinquincy @paucubarsisimp @htpssgavi @sarx164 @freyathehuntress

[steveseddie]

hot stuff

@steddiemicrofic prompt: stuff, 483 words rated: t | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, steve has a crush, he blurts it out while helping eddie pack to move to his new trailer

***

Steve shoves another DnD handbook into one of the boxes scattered around Eddie’s room. “Dude, why do you have so much stuff?”

Across the room, Eddie snorts. “Excuse me for wanting my bedroom to have some personality, Mr. Plaid-Wallpaper.”

Steve rolls his eyes, putting away some sketchbooks next. His eyes catch something else on Eddie’s desk. “This doesn’t match your personality. You hate sports,” Steve bitches, one hand on his hip, the other holding the basketball.

“Oh, that’s not mine.” Eddie smirks. “I stole it from some jocks.”

“You stole- a basketball?”

The smirk turns into a grin. “Assholes thought it’d be funny to hit the freak, so when they did, I grabbed it and ran like hell.”

A startled laugh leaves Steve’s lips when he pictures Eddie fleeing with a basketball in his arms, flipping off the assholes that he stole it from.

Then he frowns.

“I wasn’t one of them, right?” He doesn’t remember it, but he tries not to think about that time too much.

Eddie’s eyes soften. “No, Stevie. You were never a dick to me, we never really crossed paths.”

“I wish we had,” Steve says. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it. Since meeting Eddie, he often wishes it happened sooner.

“You really think we would’ve been friends? The King and the Freak?”

“We’re friends now,” Steve shrugs.

“After a damn apocalypse! Besides, you’re different now. King Steve wouldn’t be caught dead with me. I was a loser.”

Steve sniggers. “Was?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie squawks, throwing some socks at Steve’s head- and missing.

Steve throws them back, hitting him on the forehead. “You’re supposed to be packing those!”

Eddie sticks his tongue out. “What I meant is- I looked like a loser.”

Steve thinks of the photo he packed earlier while helping pack Wayne’s things- the one of Eddie with a buzz cut, drowning in Wayne’s hand-me-downs, no tattoos or rings. So different from the guy in front of him.

“Now though, I look cool,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows.

“Nah, man. Now you look hot,” Steve blurts out.

He panics when Eddie’s jaw drops and he gapes at Steve, but he doesn’t look upset, just shocked- and a little hopeful.

The door opens then and Robin pops her head in, glaring at the empty boxes. “You dinguses aren’t done yet? We finished packing all of Wayne’s mugs and there’s dozens of them! I’m getting Nance!” She huffs and leaves.

Steve grimaces. “We should get to work before Nancy comes. But, um, wanna ditch the girls after and hang out?”

When Eddie shakes his head, Steve backtracks. “Unless you don’t want-”

Eddie shakes his head even harder at that. “Like fuck if I don’t.” He grins. “Get to work, big boy, then you can tell me how hot you find me and we can kiss about it.”

They finish packing everything in record time after that.

[monzabee]

pon de replay - cl16 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 

Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.

So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.

It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.

“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.

“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.

“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”

If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”

Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.

He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”

That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.

“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.

Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.

“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.

So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”

His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”

If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.

And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”

This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.

“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”

“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.

And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”

Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”

“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”

“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”

And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.

So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”

You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.

“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.

He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”

“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”

“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.

Or so you’ve thought.

Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”

“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”

You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”

That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.

“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   

“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.

“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.

So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”

“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”

“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”

“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.

That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”

And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.

[straows]

“Why are you so clingy?” P.3

—In which your friendship with Gojo has been going pretty damn well. However, how long until underlying feelings resurface and mistakes are made?

<<part one, part two, part four>>

Laughing, you threw another piece of cake at him, snorting as the icing comically slow, dragged down his face as he gave you an unimpressed eye roll.

“Is it funny?”

“Yes.” You grinned, leaning back in your seat as you licked a piece of cake off your finger. “Damn, I make a damn good cake.”

Wiping the cake from his face and licked it off his hand, he couldn’t help but nod, “I agree.”

“Of course you do, it’s a wonder how your teeth haven’t rotted out.” You quirked a brow, before grabbing your empty plate and his— moving to the sink.

“It’s because I wash them— I’m also *cough* the world’s strongest.” He sat smugly back, watching as you washed the dishes.

It had been a month or so since he’d caught you in that grocery store. A month since you’d become friends again. A month since he’d texted you.

And it’d be 6 months since you broke up with him— broke up with him for him hurting you, calling you clingy and being rude, for neglecting you and leaving you alone.

And he’d been wishing he could turn back time and fix his mistake ever since.

Gojo regretted asking to be your friend, because now, he had to keep his longing a secret. He had to keep his love for you an absolute secret. Else you’ll disappear forever this time.

It’s like a punishment. One he deserves no doubt— but one he wish he didn’t have to burden.

He’d have to keep the way his eyes soften every time you did something cute, or familiar to secret.

Or how he wants and misses your kisses- the way you’d used to wrap your arms around his neck. How you’d pull him in with a smile and some corny joke.

Or how you’d get all dolled up for him whenever he’d take you out— hell he missed how you’d wear his hoodies and a pair of panties around the house.

He missed living with you. Being near you, holding you, everything. He missed you.

And while he got to be near you again and talk to you, it was never the same. In fact, it was almost worse. Having to hide his love— yes, it was his own personal as torture. And yet somehow, he could never pull away from you.

Time passed, and it was like everything was before you two had dated. Before you’d broken up with him.

However, it was getting bad. Bad for you, at least. It’d been bad for him.

Those stupid fucking feelings were boiling over again. Boiling over and infecting your heart.

You wanted to rip your eyes out every time you found them glued to him, or how you found yourself just admiring and adoring him like you used to.

You wish you’d never met him again. But even with that said, your heart longed for him. You longed to have his arms wrapped around you, to hear him whisper sweet nothings against your temple during the late nights again.

You miss him.

And you hated it. Because he hurt you- lord knows he did.

But part of you, a big part, wanted to believe he learned his lesson. That he’d changed.

“Hey, you listening?” Gojo’s brows furrowed and he flicked your forehead gently.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” You blinked, eyes dry from how hard you’d been staring at his hands. Oh those hands. His hands. The same hands that would wrap around your throat as he fucked you from behind—

“What did I say?” Gojo was no fool yes he was— he could read you like a book. The way you watched him, how you watched his every move and how you held the same longing in your eyes as he did in his.

And that had his heart racing against his chest like he was some prepubescent teen from high school all over again getting his first hug.

“Uhhh…” You found yourself staring at the way his throat would bob every time he’d swallow, or how his biceps would flex slightly with every little movement- and oh fuck.

“Exactly. What’re you thinking about, hm?” Tilting his head, that stupid shit eating grin stretched across those sexy fucking lips. “I think I have an idea.”

Now that— that had you snapping your eyes up to meet his again. “Huh?” You answered dumbly.

“Look,” Gojo reached across the table, and grabbed your hands in his, “I messed up. Bad. So bad. And I have been trying to make up for that everyday since. Hurting you will forever be my biggest regret—“

“Oh hell no.” Your lip curled in disgust and you tried to yank your hand away, but Gojo’s grip was too tight.

“Listen, please.” Gojo was basically begging. His voice all sweet and desperate, eyes almost puppy like.

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes stuck to his like a rat in a sticky trap. Sighing, you settled back into the seat, “Fuck. Fine. Speak.”

“I miss you, so fucking much. I miss being able to kiss you— hold you, love you, cuddle you. I miss it all. I miss you.” His thumb gently swiped over your hand, his words so sweet you wanted to melt, “and I know you miss me too.”

“You don’t know that.” You were quick to speak up. You didn’t like feeling so read— as if you were just a book left wide open for him to read whenever he pleased. That pissed you off just as much as it made you swoon.

“But I do. I see the way you look at me, the way you watch me. Pretty, I know you want me just as much as I want you,” slowly, his begging turned to a little more confident, “I will be so much better to you. I will be the best boyfriend you’ve ever fucking had.”

You just eyed him. Looking over every single little thing about him. The way his facial expressions would change in just the tiniest little ways. You were analyzing him.

And it made him nervous.

“Please take me back, please. Fuck I’ll do anything, I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have t-“

Gojo was cut off by the feeling of your lips pressing against his in a deep, unforgiving kiss. And fuck, if he wasn’t just as desperate to feel you.

He stood up so fast the chair shot out from under him, and a strong arm sent the table between you flying as he pulled you closer.

It was messy— all teeth, spit and moans. Your hands were all in his hair and on his neck, and he was no better. He couldn’t decide where to leave them, your hips, waist or to just hoist you up so he could hold you.

“Missed you,” kiss “so” kiss “fucking” kiss “much.” He groaned against your lips.

You, however, were quickly yanking yourself away from him when you got your senses back to you. Staring at him wide eyed, you took a step back. “No, no— I can’t- we can’t- no.” Quickly, you grabbed your keys from the bowl and left his house he got a new house so you’d come over.

And Gojo was left standing there, watching as you pulled out of the driveway so fast you left tire marks on the driveway, again.

Sighing softly, he could feel his heart ache. Did he fuck this all up? Probably. Would he give up? Hell no.

Running a hand through his hair, he, in frustration, kicked the chair. Just before picking it back up and mumbling an apology to the inanimate object.

That was just the first time you let temptation take you. And it wouldn’t be the last time.

Because when it came to him, you found yourself growing weak. Even after the shit he’d put you through, you’d always ache for him.

The second time it happened, was actually at a little get together celebration with Gojo and his students, along with Nanami, his wife, and Shoko.

You’d spent the last hour teasing Yuji and Megumi, and had been avoiding Gojo like the plague. But eventually, the man had pulled you aside to finally talk to you.

Calling out your name, he finally got you to sit down with him, but instead of beating around the bush, he was blunt, “you’re avoiding me.”

“What? Psh. No.” Waving him off, you looked away and sipped on your glass of wine. You always had been a wine drinker. Regardless of the fuckass headache you always got after.

“You are. And it needs to stop, please. I can’t handle it.” Gojo looked at you dead in the eye, and that had you swallowing nervously.

“You—…” You cut yourself off and shut your mouth. Before just nodding, your cheeks a light pink as you stared down at your wine.

“Good, because I was about to like— die if I didn’t get to talk to you again.” Gojo sighed in relief, before shooting you a playful, charming grin. All he wanted to do was lock you in his arms and run off into the sunset so you’d be his again.

A playful, charming grin that hid the devastating adoration and love he held for you.

The night so far, had been a success. After your little awkward moment with Gojo, things were back to normal. Or as normal as they could be.

You’d even gotten Yuji to taste your wine— and bless his heart he was wiping his tongue with a napkin and whining.

“This is bad, so bad.” Poor boy had the most disgusted look on his face.

“Poor thing, you fell for her little ‘taste my wine’ trick didn’t you?” Gojo looked at him with fake pity before laughing, “well, at least we know you’ll never be a wine alcoholic.”

Rolling your eyes, you finished the rest of your wine, before placing down three one-hundred dollar bills. You made plenty to pay for the little party and drinks you’d and everyone else had had, including tip.

You missed how Gojo glared at the money you placed down, and when you turned your back, he snatched it up and replaced it his own 5 hundreds. You would not be paying on his watch.

“You sure your good to drive? You had a good few glasses of wine.” Gojo helped you when you stumbled a little. His hand rested on the small of your back as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“You worried about me?” You shot him a cheeky grin, your cheeks flushed from the few too many glasses of wine you had.

“Always.” He smelled softly down at you, absolutely adoring the way you felt his arms.

“I need to um, get to my car.” You tried to push off of him but stumbled.

“Hell no, pretty you are not going to be driving.” Gojo was quick to pull you back into him, strong arms coming to wrap around your waist.

“Mmk.” You just hummed in response, giving him a dopey smile before getting up on your tip toes to press your lips against his jaw.

Gojo’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling and his hand tightened on your hips, “don’t do this to me, beautiful.”

“Do what?” You merely nipped at his jaw before nipping at his throat.

“You are such a tease, that much hasn’t changed.” He mumbled against your hair, pressing a sweet kiss before getting you to walk again.

This time, walking you to his own car. “What’s your address, beautiful?”

“Uhh…” you just stared at the ceiling of the car for a moment, completely stumped.

“Right. Uhuh.” Gojo stared at you before snorting, a content grin stretching on his pretty lips as he puts the car in drive. “I’ll just take you to mine.”

“Ok…” you sighed in response, leaning back in the seat, “love you, Toru.”

And that had him near about slamming on the breaks. His hands were so tight around the steering wheel that his knuckles were turning white. His jaw was clenched hard, and his brows furrowed. “You are so, so cruel.”

The ride back to his place was silent. Silent except for the sound of his heart racing and his blood rushing in his ears. Of course you’d say some shit like this when you got drunk. Of course.

“Up you go,” Gojo easily lifted you onto the bed. Sitting you down, he stood between your knees as he straightened you up. “You feeling okay?”

“Mm.” You merely hummed in response, leaning your head against his shoulder, going all slack in his arms.

Gojo sighed softly through his nose, before gently lifting your blouse over your head and replacing it with his own shirt. And soon your pants were yanked off promptly after. “Comfortable?”

“Mhmm…” nodding, you let your body fall back against his bed. Sighing in relief at the feeling of the cold comforter against your back.

Gojo nodded, and sat down the money you’d tried to use to pay for the party on the dresser, you could grab it in the morning.

“Right. Well, guess I’ll just uh… go sleep on the couch.” Gojo mumbled, mainly to himself. However, you quickly stopped him with your foot.

“Wait…come back,” you grumbled, your foot pressed flat against his back.

Gojo looked at you unimpressed, “really? This is a new shirt y’know.” He bitched and grumbled knowing damn well he’d burn his entire closet just to lay down with you again.

So, he easily slid off his shoes, socks, shirt and pants before slipping on a pair of baggy old basketball shorts and crawling into bed with you. He didn’t touch you until you curled up against his chest.

Smiling to himself, he wrapped his arms around you in a protective embrace.

He knew you’d be pissed in the morning…but for now, he’d just bury his face in your hair and enjoy your scent like he used to.

“You really hurt me, y’know?” You murmured against his chest, eyes clothes.

“…I know.” Gojo could feel his heart restricting and his throat burning. That guilt coming back to eat him up, just like it always did.

“I missed you so much… still do. I wish you’d never ruined what we’d had,” Your eyes opened, but only halfway as you let your drunken thoughts spill as they pleased. “I still love you though, think I always will.”

Gojo let out a shaky breath, “I love you too, pretty. I’ll make it up to you, even if takes the next hundred years. I won’t let you go.”

He could feel your smile against his chest and the way you just melted against him. His own eyes threatened to tear up, but he only held you tighter and closer.

Tagged

@peightonnnnn-blog @nonamebbsblog @jup1tersuccubus @emochosoluvr

[whaqat]

ermm

Curtis brothers headcanons

and then I’ll do the rest of the gang

- Soda and Pony pretend to have inside jokes to piss Darry off. Darry does actually get annoyed since they keep saying it over and over so he starts interrogating them about it.

^^ ponyboy manages to create a fake ass scenario each time. It scares Sodapop sometimes.

- everyone likes to say soda would be a red flag magnet and I second that. “Pony, she’s literally the one she said we were like Harley Quinn and joker.” “… soda, I don’t think you get how bad that is.”

- pre-book they would all go to a random river to skip rocks. Darry would always “accidentally” throw it 300 feet across and pretend he was trying to skip it and it was like the coolest thing ever to pony and soda.

- soda loves sweet stuff, pony loves sour stuff, and Darry loves salty stuff.

^^ to the extreme though. You will absolutely find ponyboy at 2AM fucking up a lemon.

- Soda and Darry saved to buy ponyboy a camera and better art supplies for his birthday. he cried.

- having “the talk” with pony was very very awkward. he already knew most of the stuff because he hangs out with people like two-bit and dally, but he found it funny so he kept pretending to be confused.

- (modern) darry would love Life360

D:“pony, you said you were going to the movies, why are you across town.”

D:“Hello????”

P: “mb I saw a butterfly.”

D: “for three miles??”

- all a little pyromaniac-ish. Weekend bonfires go weeeeeee

- pony was a little snitch as a kid and he didn’t know it most of the time.

- soda and pony both wander off constantly. Darry has considered getting kid leashes multiple times. (A day)

-soda hated how much they argued so he kept trying to arrange stuff that they did in their childhood when Darry wasn’t working but it’d just end up a mess and soda would just feel worse.

- (modern) Darry understands slang, but he doesn’t like it being used in the house because “Ponyboy won’t get far with that talk” and he thinks it’ll make him seem illiterate like the rest of them. So when they’re fighting, it’ll go quiet and pony’ll say some stupid shit like “what the skibidi” and Darry would slam his hands onto the counter.

[hotshotsxyz]

the golf course job

(8x03 coda) (buddie adjacent) (562 words) relatively minor 8x03 spoilers. this one goes out to the leverage girlies (gn)

Buck’s not panicking. He’s not! It’s just his least favorite sport with his least favorite person, who he maybe tried to murder last week. It’ll be fine. It’d be nice if Eddie stopped looking so goddamn amused about the whole thing, though.

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised; I told you he wasn’t going to be mad,” he says, handing over an uncapped beer.

“Okay, but like—Eddie, he wants to take me golfing.”

“Relax,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching. He waits until Buck brings the bottle to his lips to add, “You can borrow my clubs.”

Buck chokes. “That is not the problem,” he sputters.

Eddie’s lips twist in that oh-so-familiar way. He hums a noncommittal noise and takes a sip of his beer.

“You think this is funny,” Buck accuses.

“Who, me?” Eddie asks, the picture of innocence. Buck knows him better than that.

“You do!” he says.

Eddie snorts. “Maybe a little,” he says.

Buck throws his head back dramatically. “Betrayed by my own best friend,” he says, bringing a hand to his chest.

That makes Eddie laugh in earnest. “I just—you should have seen your face,” he says between chuckles.

“I thought he was going to fire me!” Buck exclaims. “And then he just—”

“Took you under his wing,” Eddie snickers.

“I don’t want to be under his wing,” Buck laments.

“You know,” Eddie says, tapping his beer bottle thoughtfully against his hip, “this could be a good thing.”

Buck fixes him with a disbelieving look. “In what universe,” he says flatly.

“In the one where we get him fired so Bobby can come back,” Eddie says. He tilts his head and raises a brow.

“Um—how?” Buck asks.

Eddie puts his beer down and takes a step closer to Buck. “Go golfing with him. Take him to brunch. Make him like you.”

Oh, Buck does not like where this is going. “I don’t want him to like me,” he protests.

“Sure, but he doesn’t know that,” Eddie says.

“But—”

“No, no, I think this could work. Get him talking. You know he’ll say something that could get him fired.”

Buck frowns. “I guess, but it’s not like the brass will believe me over him. We’ve tried that already.”

“Sure,” Eddie says with a shrug that doesn’t land anywhere near casual. “But we didn’t have proof.”

“And golfing with him gets us that how, exactly?”

“Come on Buck, I know Chimney made you watch Leverage,” Eddie says.

“But Eddie,” Buck says, “I hate golf.”

Eddie pats him on the shoulder. “And that’s what makes your sacrifice so noble.”

Buck groans. “I still think we should all just quit.”

“Too bad, Buckley,” Eddie says with a wolfish grin, “you’re going undercover.”

Buck scrubs a hand across his face. “Why’d I have to save him from that stupid saw,” he bemoans.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Eddie replies sweetly.

“Fuck you,” Buck says without any heat.

Eddie laughs. “I’ll buy you a drink after, you can complain about golf all you want.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Buck says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says lightly.

And, okay, everything about this is going to suck, but Eddie’s smiling more than he has in months, and there’s not really anything Buck wouldn’t do to keep it that way.

“Fine,” he says with a sigh. “Let’s steal a captaincy.”

[nuetralizedevangelist]

❝i hope i was your favorite crime.❞ || coriolanus snow x f!reader

| request- hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.

| A/N- i wanted so bad to make sooooo angsty but i fought the demons. def ooc everybody besides festus. fuck you festus. hope you like it as much as i do 🫶🏻

| WARNINGS- alcohol consumption, creepy men, bad fathers (relatable), nice coriolanus snow, festus creed (he deserves a warning), eating, making out, traumatized sejanus (im sorry sejanus i love you)

the eldest plinth daughter. not an heir, but something you’d want to marry into. if you could get her, you’d never need to do anything again in your life. coriolanus knew that, he reveled in that. he’d never met her, all the times he went over to the plinth’s apartment she was either out or the door to her bedroom was tightly locked- not accepting visitors.

he wondered what she did with her time, was she in university? sejanus seems to never talk about his sister unless someone asks. but yet here she was. a floor length silver dress caught coriolanus’ eye, turning his head to follow the figure. she stood tall and confidently next to her brother. his eyes cascaded over the entire family, all in the same tantalizing silver. they were brightly shining in the ballroom of the benefit. it’d be hard to ignore them. he hated that.

he studied her, they way he could almost see a resemblance to sejanus but feeling as if he’s grasping at straws. her left hand holding a champagne glass she hasn’t drank from, and her right hand resting on sejanus’ shoulder. she’s nodding along to whatever nonsense pup harrington is spitting at her, no doubt making a pass.

she excuses herself and points at her glass, which is now empty after having to listen to the poor boy. when she reaches the full glasses lined up on the table coriolanus makes his move. “hello, ms.plinth.” her head turns to him and her eyes narrow. “coriolanus snow. my brothers supposed best friend- where’s tigris? i like her.” she quickly downs the glass and reaches for another. coriolanus can feel the disdain for him leaking out of her pores.

“she’s, um, she’s back at home. with grandma’am. she is quite nice to be around, isn’t she? how are you enjoying your night?” he attempts to flip the conversation back to her- oh wait, she’s not even looking at him anymore. her eyes find sejanus’ as he’s talking to livia cardew, and she begins walking in his direction. “nice talking to you, coriolanus.” but he felt like it definitely wasn’t nice. was he wanting to marry her for her money? yes. but was she also beautiful and apparently quite funny, as ma plinth has said? also yes.

she spent the rest of night collecting champagne glasses and not leaving sejanus’ side. even he was beginning to get bothered by the bachelors approaching his sister. she leaned against the back wall, yes, another glass in hand. she’d gotten roped into a conversation with festus, clearly tortuous. coriolanus was standing with sejanus about a foot away, so sejanus could keep and eye on festus.

“it’s just so frustrating, coryo! all these guys coming up and trying to make a pass at my sister while i’m right there, if i didn’t know any better i would’ve taken pup harrington outside. you should’ve heard some of the stuff he was saying to her. it’s horrible.” sejanus rants while staring at festus. “well, she’s gonna have to get married eventually, sejanus.” coriolanus says with a slight smile to his bestfriend.

“i know that, just none of these guys. we’ve been everyday with them at the academy. you know how bad they are, the shit they say about women in general. i don’t want those guys with her.” it’s obvious he’s quite over protective of her, even though she’s three years older than him. coriolanus nods along with him and pats his back.

“i’ll go save her.” coriolanus comforts his friend and makes his way to festus. “sejanus said he needed your opinion on some ideas for the food, seemed urgent.” she nods and offers a knowing smile to coriolanus. festus leans his head on the wall “man! i really felt like i was getting somewhere with her” coriolanus rests a hand on his shoulder. “trust me, you definitely weren’t.”

the party has picked up and died down, everyone sitting to eat but coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out where she was. she wasn’t sitting with her family and unless she had friends he didn’t know, he couldn’t see her anywhere. he’d made his way outside to take a breather from all the talking and hugging old people who knew his parents.

that’s when his eyes laid upon the girl in the silver dress, and he took a seat next to her on the steps. she’s staring out into the gardens and her eyes are glazed over. no champagne glass in her hand this time. she doesn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m really drunk right now and i hate almost everyone in there. all they care about is money and those stupid hunger games.” she confided in him and rested her chin on her arms that are wrapped around her knees. “yeah, you didn’t look like you were having a great time. i tried counting how many glasses you had but i lost count after ten.” she lightly laughed and shook her head.

“i think it was thirteen but i’m not sure, i drank four while festus was chirping in my ear about how many children he wanted.” she feigned chills at the mention of his name and they laughed. she turned to look at him with a barley noticeable smile “you’re not like them, are you? you’re more like sejanus. quiet and doesn’t bother women they want to marry.” the comparison of sejanus would normally upset him, but coming from her it felt the highest compliment a man could receive.

she rubbed her hands over her arms to conserve warmth and coriolanus quickly removed his blazer to wrap around her and she muttered a small thanks. resuming her staring at the gardens. “would you like to grab you some water? or something to eat? it’s not gonna be very good for you tomorrow morning if you don’t eat something.” he whispers towards and she nods her head.

as coriolanus is walking back in, the plinths are walking out. “hey coryo. we’re heading home for the night as ma doesn’t feel too well, have you seen-“ coriolanus points outside “she’s on the steps, make sure she eats something when you get home. way too much champagne for a human.” seianus claps his hand against coriolanus’ chest and continues outside.

the sun is battering down on the capitol but the plinths home is cooler than a beautiful spring day, probably for the hungover girl inside. coriolanus knocks on the door and smiles as his eyes meet ma’s. “oh! coriolanus, it’s so good to see you. we didn’t talk much last night. come in! i just finished up some pies!” she ushers him inside as sejanus joins them in his mothers corner of the kitchen.

after the grueling and quite long conversation with ma coriolanus excused himself. sejanus seemingly interested in this new sugar ma had found. as coriolanus rounded the corner to her room, he stopped. suddenly feeling quite nervous and as if he might throw up. her bedroom door opened and her eyes meet his, he looks down and she’s holding his blazer out. “i heard you talking to ma, here this.” her calloused tone returns, maybe she only likes him she’s drunk. he better find a lot more champagne.

the plinth family plus coriolanus are sitting in the sun room, drinking iced tea and munching on whatever treats ma had baked. “so, coriolanus, do you have any plans on getting married after university?” strabo’s deep and rough voice cut over his wife’s story.

coriolanus set his tea down “i’d hope so, certainly.” his eyes skip between strabo and his daughter. she’s sitting with her knees pulled up to chest and she’s looking out the window. “well you know how much we’d love to have you in the family, we could arrange your marriage with-“ she sets her cup down harshly and stands up.

“you always do this! could you just leave me alone? maybe i don’t want to get married, ma said it was fine if i didn’t marry.” she’s waving her hands around and waits for him to answer. when she’s met with silence she storms out and slams the sunroom door. “strabo, you can’t make her marry someone she doesn’t love.” someone she doesn’t love.

coriolanus stands up and thanks them for the tea. “tigris wanted to head to the market and i’d never let her go alone, i’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”

he walks by her door and tries the handle, quietly. he fully expected it to be locked but the door swings open and she’s laying face down on the bed. “sejanus, go away.” she grumbled through her mattress. “it’s not sejanus.” she sighs and sits up, staring at him.

“do you not knock before entering a room?” she tilted her head and studied him. “i expected it to be locked, sorry. i’ll knock next time.” his eyes seem to gravitate towards the floor and he can’t will himself to bring them back up.

“i’m sorry about my father. i’m sure it made you very uncomfortable, he’s just always trying to marry me off.” her hands fidget awkwardly in her lap. “i wasn’t too uncomfortable, any guy would be lucky to marry you. i always heard that you were quite mean, i’ve yet to see that.”

she scoffed and turned her head to the window. “they only say that because i don’t hesitate to speak my mind. i taught sejanus that. i am definitely what they call me, but only to them.” why does she feel so comfortable spilling her guts to him?

“i saw you and sejanus’ sister a few minutes ago, coriolanus. are you willing to deal with her grating voice and attitude for the plinths money?” arachne sneers towards him and the group laughs. “it helps that she’s pretty, it’s already hard enough trying to talk to her.” coriolanus regrets it the second it escapes his mouth.

she liked him. she really did like coriolanus snow, but who doesn’t? she weaved her way through the crowd trying to escape him. he was hot on her trail until he catches up to her in one of the various bedrooms inside the ravinstalls estate.

“do you think i’m stupid, coriolanus? be honest.” he scrambles to find the words but his brain couldn’t function in the one moment he desperately needed it. “i said you were different, i talked to you about things i liked, i would tell ma all about you. but you aren’t different, you’re just like the others.” he ran his hand through his hair. “i was different, i am different. i don’t know why i said that, it just came out. i didn’t mean it, i promise.”

he attempted to take her hand but she ripped out of his grasp and stomped out of the room. shit.

the next day her door was locked. and the next. and the next. he wasn’t even sure she was there anymore. sejanus hasn’t mentioned anything but he wished he would. he wished he would tell him if she was okay or if he majorly screwed up.

as coriolanus and sejanus sit in the sunroom attempting to study, there’s a knock on the door. coriolanus cranes his neck to see festus ravinstill standing there with a bouquet of flowers. god, this kid is tragic. but then he sees you, take the flowers with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. strabo’s never looked happier.

coriolanus suffered in silence watching festus become a daily guest and drowning out sejanus’ complaints about him being there. for once in his life, he agreed with sejanus. when he enters the kitchen to refill his glass of lemonade he sees her watering the plants in the kitchen.

“don’t marry him. he won’t be good to you.” she drops her head and turns to him. “and you would?” she spits back sending him into a whirlwind. “yes.” he whispers out and she takes a few steps closer to him. “festus is nice and fathers happy with this. i don’t have another choice, coriolanus. i have to do this” how does she always sound so sure of herself? maybe coriolanus could take a class from her.

their eyes finally meet, after weeks of not seeing her eyes, she’s finally looking at him. “you could marry me, instead. i wouldn’t treat you like a prize, like festus would.” she steps impossibly closer and he feels like he can’t breathe when she’s around. oxygen becomes molasses and his knees become jelly.

she looks over coriolanus’ shoulder and stands up on her toes to kiss him. he takes a moment to catch on but he his hands find purchase on her waist and he leans down. all nerves thrown out the window and all he can think of is her, how she tastes, how she smells, he can’t even remember who festus is.

her hands wind his curly hair around her fingers as she swipes her tongue against his own and he pushes her against the refrigerator, causing a few magnets to fall onto the floor. his hands are trailing up and down the waist of the yellow dress she had decided to wear that day.

festus had left the plinths the second he saw her look at him over coriolanus’ shoulder. knowing he lost and there’s nothing he could’ve done.

she pulls back, panting. “i’ll marry you, just don’t call me annoying again.” her lipstick is smeared across both of their mouths and he gives her a dopey smile. “i wouldn’t dream of it” he brushes stray hair out of her face.

“in the kitchen?! we make food there!” sejanus is standing in the doorway, seemingly traumatized. “sorry, sej.” he shakes his head walking away but throwing a secretive thumbs up at coriolanus.

[idrawweirdstuffnominors]

How about the boys reacting to nudes?

As adults ofc

"Fuck....i wish you were my hand-ngh~ right now..."

Here is how I think each of them would react

Tw- NSFW (minors go away do your homework)

Bill dickey-

Bill was halfway through a hate-watch of a “Top 10 Best Star Wars Ships” YouTube video when his phone buzzed.

“Let me guess, another troglodyte putting Kylo Ren’s ship above the Outrider—god, people are so fucking stupid—”

He glanced at the screen.

And froze.

You’d sent a picture.

A nude. Bold. Shameless. Gorgeous. You were laid out like a fantasy, smiling like you knew exactly what you were doing. Like you knew it’d wreck him.

For a second, he forgot how to breathe. The phone slipped in his hand, and he fumbled to catch it like it was the Ark of the Covenant.

“What the fuck,” he rasped, voice cracking, eyes locked on the screen. “What—what the hell is wrong with you?! You can’t just drop that on me! That’s like… like unleashing a goddamn nuke in a chat window!”

He was already hard. Pathetically so. His sweatpants tented embarrassingly fast, and he yanked them down with the urgency of a man possessed. “Oh my god, look at you,” he muttered, hand wrapping around himself. “You’re an actual menace. A war crime in human form.”

He worked himself fast, jaw clenched, eyes wide like he was staring into the face of God—and God had great tits.

“Fuckin’ knew you were evil,” he growled, hand pumping faster. “Sending me this shit when I’m alone? What, you think you’re funny? Think I’m gonna be able to think about anything else for the rest of the goddamn month?”

He groaned, eyes fluttering shut for a second—just enough to picture you crawling onto his lap, whispering some filthy little thing in his ear, riding him slow just to torture him. “Yeah, laugh it up. Laugh all you want, babe. You love turning me into this pathetic fuckin’ mess, don’t you?”

His thighs tensed, stomach clenched.

It hit him hard—white-hot and furious. He let out a strangled, guttural sound, hips jerking, entire body twitching like someone just tasered him in the soul.

He slumped back, sweaty and dazed, cock twitching in his hand, chest heaving like he’d just stormed Normandy.

He stared at your photo again and laughed—dry, sharp, totally wrecked.

“You’re gonna pay for that, you little freak.”

Then he texts you:

“What the fuck is wrong with you. Also I’m coming over. Put your phone down. And your legs up.”

Josh levy-

Josh had just finished rewatching The Wrath of Khan for the ninth time this month, still mouthing along to every Shatner line like it was Shakespeare. His room was cluttered with unopened figure boxes, the flickering glow of the TV screen reflecting off his vintage glass display case like some weird altar.

Then—buzz.

He rolls his eyes, figuring it’s his cousin Nathan with some dumb meme or maybe one of the guys sending a half-baked conspiracy theory about the Star Wars sequels. He picks up the phone lazily.

And freezes.

It’s from you.

His glasses nearly slide off his nose as he squints at the screen. “What the hell is—” Then his brain shorts out.

It’s a photo.

A nude.

Of you.

Full-on. Confident. Smirking. Like you just knew he’d be a mess the moment he saw it.

Josh’s mouth opens, then closes. He makes a strange squeaking noise in the back of his throat, like a deflating balloon.

“What—what the hell, are you trying to kill me!?” he hisses at no one, clutching the phone like it might explode. He shifts uncomfortably on the bed, already feeling himself stir in his jeans.

His heart's racing like he's facing down a Klingon warbird. “Jesus—holy shit,” he mutters, palming himself through his pants, already hard. “You... you planned this, didn’t you? You knew I’d get worked up over this. Manipulative little minx…”

His free hand unzips fast, almost panicked. He strokes himself with sharp, urgent motions, biting his lip so hard it almost bleeds.

“You’re insane, sending this when I’m alone—I can’t handle this kinda thing, not when you look like that, not when I’ve got this entire mental archive of your noises and the way you shake when I get you just right—fuck—”

He’s panting now, imagining you straddling him, whispering the filthiest things with that smile—the smile from the photo. “You want me desperate, huh? Is that it?” His voice breaks slightly, cock twitching in his hand. “You wanna drive me nuts? Wanna make me beg like I’m some... some sex-starved nerd with no self-control? Well, congratu-fucking-lations, you succeeded—”

The orgasm crashes over him in a full-body spasm, and he lets out a strangled moan, curling forward, gasping like he just sprinted a marathon. His hand’s a mess, his brain’s static, and his glasses are fogged to hell.

There’s a long pause. Then, very softly, he whispers:

“I’m in love with a war criminal.”

He wipes his hand on his Battlestar Galactica t-shirt, still staring at the screen.

Then he texts back:

“You just violated five articles of the Geneva Convention. I'm filing a formal complaint. Also, I’m coming over.”

Pete dinunzio-

Phone buzzes. He almost ignores it—probably Bill sending some neckbeard manifesto or maybe his cousin trying to get him to go out. But it’s not that.

It’s you.

And holy shit.

He opens the message and chokes a little on the half-chewed pizza roll in his mouth. You’re naked. Not tastefully draped in shadows, not suggestive—just flat-out, tits-out, bedroom-eyed, and smirking like you know exactly what the hell you're doing to him.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he mutters, phone nearly slipping out of his hand.

His cock’s half-hard before he even blinks. That post-shower glow on your skin, the way your thighs are angled just so, and that look—the one that says “yeah, I’m yours, and I want you to see.” It hits him like a freight train.

“Fuckin’ hell, babe…” he breathes, dragging a hand down his face, then right into his lap without thinking.

He’s grinning now—lecherous, giddy, crooked. "You’re a goddamn menace, you know that?" he mutters to himself, thumbs the edge of the screen like he’s debating whether to stare or frame it.

Then he types back:

"You tryna kill me? I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you when I see you next. You better not be asleep."

He stares at the image one more time, then leans back, groaning low in his throat.

“Best fuckin’ day I’ve had in months…”

He stares at the screen like it’s the goddamn Mona Lisa, only way better because Da Vinci never painted you biting your lip with your hand between your thighs.

His mouth goes dry. That old, familiar heat coils low in his gut—the kind he hadn’t felt in a while, not since the last time you whispered filth in his ear and made him forget what decade he was in.

He shifts on the couch, unzipping his jeans with one hand, the other still gripping the phone like it’s sacred. “Fuckin’ filthy girl…” he mutters, voice thick and ragged. “You wanted this, huh? Knew I’d lose it the second I saw you like that.”

He wraps his hand around himself, already hard, already aching. Your picture is still on the screen—taunting, perfect. He imagines your voice, that breathy little whimper you make when you’re getting needy, the one that always makes him throb.

“You think I forgot how tight you are?” he growls under his breath, hand working slow at first. “You think I wouldn’t stroke my cock to this? Like you’re not all I fuckin’ think about when I’m stuck at work, surrounded by assholes and spoiled brats?”

He squeezes a little tighter, hips jerking forward instinctively. His eyes flutter shut, and he sees it—you on his lap, those thighs trembling, nails in his shoulders, riding him like you own him. “I’m gonna make you scream when I get my hands on you. You hear me, baby?” he pants, not even trying to control the rhythm now. “Next time you send me shit like this, you better be ready for me to drive over and make good on it.”

His breathing’s getting faster, his body curling with tension. he gasps, voice hoarse, body on fire. “You love gettin’ me like this. Naughty fuckin’ tease…”

The orgasm hits hard, unexpected—ripping through him like a shot of lightning. He gasps, low and raw, gripping the edge of the couch as he spills into his own hand, jaw slack, eyes shut tight with your name in his throat.

When he finally slumps back, chest rising and falling, he glances at the phone again and huffs a breathless, crooked laugh.

“You’re such a goddamn problem,” he says, fond and filthy all at once. “But fuck if you ain’t the best one I’ve ever had.”

Jerry stokes-

Jerry was on the couch, curled up in an old hoodie, a forgotten episode of Farscape playing in the background. His apartment was quiet, the kind of quiet that creeps in when you’ve been alone too long.

Then his phone buzzed.

He didn’t move right away. Probably another pointless notification. But something told him to check. When he unlocked it and saw your name—followed by a photo—he blinked in confusion.

Then his breath caught.

It was you.

Nude. Beautiful. Confident. Soft in a way only you could be. You were looking right at the camera like you knew exactly what this would do to him.

“Oh... wow,” Jerry whispered, stunned.

He just sat there for a moment, staring, phone cradled in both hands like it was something fragile. His heart was pounding. His ears were hot. “Jesus, sweetheart,” he murmured, lips parting. “You’re… you’re really something.”

He swallowed thickly, shifting in his seat as the heat built in his chest, and lower. “You really sent this to me,” he said softly, almost like he couldn’t believe it. “You really trust me with this.”

His hands moved slowly, one setting the phone beside him—screen still glowing—while the other slipped under the waistband of his sweats. Already hard. Already aching.

He started to stroke himself, slowly, gently, still looking at you. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he said, breath catching. “God, if you were here right now… I’d take my time. I’d treat you so good.”

He closed his eyes and leaned back, jaw trembling. “I think about you all the time. About holding you. Kissing you slow. Making you feel like you’re everything—because you are.”

His voice was getting shakier, words tumbling out between panting breaths.

“I wish I was better at saying this. I wish I was there. I’d show you how much I care. How much this… you... mean to me.”

When he came, it was with a quiet gasp and a broken whisper of your name, his free hand clutching his chest like it might crack open from how full it felt. He stayed still for a long moment afterward, just breathing, warm and raw and grateful.

He looked back at your picture and smiled—soft, a little crooked, but real.

Then he texted you:

> “You didn’t have to send that. But I’m really glad you did. You make me feel lucky. I’ll be there soon—if you want me.”

[spidehpig]

i love that raphael is so self absorbed tbh. i mean he just displays the most egregious case of narcissism you’ve ever seen. narcissism so bad he completely lacks any sense of self awareness & quite literally deludes himself with his own ridiculous fantasies of grandeur & power

it’s pathetic really… i’m so obsessed with him lmao. like genuinely what has him convinced he could usurp asmodeus if he had the crown of karsus. that shit was collecting dust in his daddy’s vault for centuries… mephistopheles is quite literally asmodeus’ biggest hater

he’s been plotting & scheming for millennia to overthrow him & he has failed miserably every single time. & im sorry i will acknowledge that raphael is very smart & powerful i mean he’s done enough to make his father send him a little spy/distraction unlike hes treated his other offspring

literally just devoured them bc he hated them lmao. so like yeah raphael is kinda an it girl, he’s got the 2nd most powerful devil of the hells keeping a little side eye on him just in case. but i still think he’s utterly insane if he thinks the crown of karsus is enough to make the hells bend to his knees. i do think it’d be enough for him overthrow zarial & become archdevil of the 1st (i could go on a whole side tangent about how that’s literally only bc mephistopheles wants that to happen bc now he controls 2 layers of hell, one by proxy or his son who quit frankly cannot deny him or else he be devoured. anyways what i was saying is dispater is old as fuck and has been there done that. i really don’t think crown of karsus raphael would be a threat to him at all. don’t even get me STARTED on mammon 💀

like alright sure let’s pretend he conquered the 1st and 2nd. i’m sorry but he’s not getting the 3rd lol. mammon is THAT BITCH and has been around since like fucking forever lol. he quite literally lets his team warlocks open portals to other archdevils domains to steal from them. that devil does not give a FUCKKKKKK 😭😭 he literally was like yeah what the fuck sure you can open a portal to mephistopheles’ vaults in cania so the dead three can steal from him idgaf he can send me a strongly worded email if he has a problem with it 🙄

side note, literally so fucking funny that durge and gortash pulled that shit off bc helsik is literally like yeah sorry homie i actually can’t get you into the 8th layer anymore bc they tightened up security after getting robbed blind 😔