#and did a ton more weaving

[milkweedman]

took me until today to figure out there was a purpose to the edge on the beater (shuttle race) AND what type of shuttles i had bought on ebay (flying shuttles) and also how to use them. i then put all of this knowledge together to fuck up my selvedge spectacularly lmfao

[teenagefeeling]

idk why i just now thought of this but my elementary art school teacher was genuinely so good at her job and like i did love her then but i don't think i fully appreciated how much she was actually teaching me until years later

[lilreidgirl]

Where do I sign?

Summary: You have a tattoo that you`re teased for by others but when it`s just you and Spencer, you realise that it`s all worth it.

Warnings: MDNI(18+), fem!reader, tattoo, smut/sex briefly mentioned, swearing, alcoholic drinks, ownership kink??, English is not my first language

WC: ~1.2k

A/N: Came up with this a few weeks ago but only now wrote it, hope you enjoy!!

You knew, deep down, when you first got the tattoo that it would raise eyebrows. If anyone found out about it, you could already imagine the reactions: weird looks and perhaps a few teasing comments. You were prepared for the judgment. You understood that most people would likely think it was strange and that was okay.

What mattered was that you liked it and that Spencer did as well. After all, you are the one who has it permanently engraved in your body and he’s the one who’ll be staring at said print on your body for the rest of your lives.

As soon as Spencer mentioned the idea, you were obsessed. Not a single feeling of hesitance found itself into your body the day you got the tattoo. Only pure excitement made shivers run down your spine as you walked into the tattoo parlour, which Spencer had deduced was the best one courtesy of tons of hours of research on online reviews, distances and health department tattoo regulation inspections.

_________

The team had organized a little get together at a bar; family, friends and all, so naturally Spencer brought you.

Spencer wore a white button-down shirt, but it wasn’t a pure snow white—more of a faded off-white, as if time had softened the fabric just a little. The shirt was messily tucked into a pair of black slacks. His hair, which was even messier than the cloth he tucked under his belt, lay unruly and untamed in tousled waves on his head, as if he had just rolled out of bed and let them fall where they may. It was the usual look for him, and you couldn’t help but love how effortlessly charming it seemed.

You chose a pair of blue low-rise jeans, the ones Spencer had always said were his favorite. You paired them with a light grey shirt with three little buttons at the top. You deliberately left two of them undone just enough to catch Spencer`s eye without being too revealing.

The bar was cosy but packed with constant laughs and conversation crossing the table you sat at. Unaesthetically pleasing lights shone from the ceiling a few flickering with the same rhythm as the nostalgic party songs that were played from the big speakers spread out all over the room. Rossi announced the first round be on him, no surprise there.

He and Emily had left to get the drinks, disappearing into the crowd for a few moments, only to return a short while later, their hands full of glasses. Rossi’s arms were loaded with tumblers filled with alcoholic beverages, while Emily was gripping a few more in her grasp. The sight of them juggling so many glasses brought a smile to your face as you watched them make their way through the room.

“Oh, you guys need some help?” you called out, already rising from the stool you��d been sitting on, eager to lighten their load. You moved swiftly, offering your hands to take a few glasses from their arms. He smiled, looking grateful for the assistance.

“Thank you, you`re the fucking best,” Emily praised, a soft chuckle leaving you at the sweet thank you involving such unfitting, vulgar language which infected her to let out a small laugh as well.

After you took a few drinks off their hands, the three of you started moving around the room, weaving through the different people and their conversations, delivering the drinks to their designated drinkers. Each time you made your delivery, you shared a brief exchange with the person before turning to pass the next drink along.

 “Okay, last one! Who ordered a bud light?” Your eyes studied the different faces, landing on Derek’s as his voice announced, “Me, pretty girl.”

Rolling your eyes at the nickname, matching to your boyfriend’s, you made your way to the smirking man, placing the bottle in front of him. “Hear ya go.” You smiled sweetly before turning around, looking to walk back to your seat but being stopped by Penelope’s voice.

“What’s that? Is that Spencer’s signature?” She asked, confusion and a giggle present in her tone.

You stopped dead in your tracks, the ones you had barely made your way down, the sneakers you were wearing making a slight squeaking noise against the friction of the sticky bar floor.

The rest of the teams and their companion’s faces turned to you, more specifically your back, even more specifically, the little sliver of skin revealed between the blue and grey materials of your jeans and shirt. The skin clad with a tattoo reading “Spencer Reid” in his finest handwriting.

Slowly, you turned around, an awkward expression on your face before you met your boyfriend’s eyes and widened your own as a bit of a distress beacon.

“Oh- um…” for a guy with an IQ of 187, he probably should have been able to come up with something to say in that moment, but god was it hard in that stuffy room with countless expecting eyes peering at him.

“Didn’t know you guys were… that. Gee…,” Emily chuckled, her black hair gliding over her shoulders as she turned to look at the both of you one after the other.

“What is that-…,“ You tried to speak up but the rest of the words never even made it past the stage of being formed by your brain cells, the ones you were now hoping would explode so you could die before the situation got any more embarrassing. Defeated by your own inability to speak you looked down, gaze falling on the spotty floor of the bar.

“My man,” Derek grinned proudly, giving Spencer an encouraging pump of his prominent eyebrows as he laughed.

Spencer’s eyes met yours, both of your guys’ cheeks burning different shades of rosy and peach out of embarrassment, but the eye contact between the two of you communicated what you both knew.

It was worth it.

It was worth people thinking you were weird, every time Spencer laid his large hand on your lower back in public where his name lay written in the crevices between your skin’s atoms, reminding you what lay there, reminding you who you belonged to.

It was worth the embarrassment, every single time Spencer’s slender fingers, warm and delicate, gently traced the intricate pattern of ink that adorned your skin. Whether you were in the shower, the steam clouding the air around you, or snuggled up together beneath the soft sheets, his touch was always so tender, almost reverent, as if the tattoo held some hidden meaning only he could understand.

It was worth the teasing and the giggling, every time his eyes, barely hazel anymore because of his blown out pupils, stared intently at his signature, his mark, his claim, dug deep into your soft skin and your even softer soul as he fucked into you relentlessly.

It was worth it because it was proof you were his. Forever. The black ink sewn into your body that is immortally yours, always there to convey how no one could ever love you like he could and how you would never even have a trace of the same love for some other person that you feel for Spencer.

[brokenmenswhore]

hate | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: hate sex kink :)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), sexual harassment (he flips her skirt up, nonconsensual), remus is mean

────── ☾ ──────

“You know I can’t go to a Gryffindor anything,” you pleaded, trying to get your best friend to stop pushing you into attending the party.

“There will be a ton of people there! Remus won’t even notice you,” she bargained.

You sighed. “I’m really, really not in the mood for his shit tonight,” you started, closing your books and cleaning up your schoolwork, “If I agree to go, I’m making it your responsibility to keep him away from me all night.”

Your best friend squealed and jumped up, hugging you in excitement.

You and Remus Lupin never got along. In first year, he and his friends would mercilessly tease you about the length of your hair. You were young, and you ignored it, but he always found a reason to tease you. In fifth year, his best friend Sirius began to taunt you, nonstop asking you about how sexually experienced you were and how Remus could help you. In sixth year, Remus became mean. He would throw your stuff around, spread rumors, turn people against you, and more. He became ruthlessly mean and you did everything you could do to avoid being anywhere near him. You even pleaded with professors to switch your classes if he was in them.

Your friends constantly teased you about him, claiming he was into you, but you never paid much attention to it. Sure, he was hot, but so were his friends, and that didn’t overshadow the fact that they were horrible.

You hated him. You physically recoiled at the sight of him. In private, sometimes your hand would find its way in between your legs, and you would think of Remus and some of the ways he would touch your hair or pinch your skin, but everywhere apart from the privacy of your bed, you loathed him.

The moment you stepped into the Gryffindor common room, you scanned the room for Remus, not spotting him or his usual crowd of Sirius, James, and Peter. You felt relieved, allowing yourself to relax a bit.

You grabbed a pumpkin juice, sitting on the common room couch. Your dress was shorter than you were used to, and sitting down almost exposed you in it, so you crossed your legs to protect your modesty.

“Who the fuck let you out of the house in that?” Remus said, plopping down next to you.

“Who the fuck let you out of the house at all?” you retorted, leaning forward to stand up. You were not in the mood for him.

Remus grabbed the bottom of your dress as you stood, trying to pull you back down. You swatted at his hand, half-standing. “Let go of my dress, Remus.”

“Oops,” Remus said, flipping the skirt up and briefly exposing your backside.

You instinctively quickly pushed your dress back down, turning your ass away from Remus. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked, trying to keep your cool.

“Just wanted a peek,” Remus laughed.

“You’re sick,” you said, starting to walk away from the couch.

Remus stood up when you began walking away, following you around the room. You noticed, trying to weave your way around the mass of bodies to lose him, but he was too quick for you.

You ducked out of the common room, sneaking down a corridor and deciding this wasn’t worth it. Going back to your common room would be the only thing to give you solace, because Remus was incapable of leaving you alone, ever. The second he saw you, he had to torment and tease you until you found a way out of his sight. You were going to kill your best friend, how did she let him sit down right next to you?

“Walk any faster and you’re gonna fall in those heels,” he spoke from behind you.

You stopped short in the darkened corridor. You were sick of this. It was time to stop.

“What’s your problem, Remus?” you snapped.

“You’re my problem,” he answered, “I thought you were at least smart enough to put that together?”

You sighed. “You’ve been bullying me for seven years Remus. Seven years. Based on what? What did I ever do to you? Huh?”

“You do things like walking around in those stupid little short dresses,” he replied, completely unbothered.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” you spat back, trying your hardest to keep your voice quiet and avoid getting caught.

“Sheesh, language,” Remus scolded.

“Remus,” you said, taking a deep breath and evening out your tone, “you’ve been abusing me since we were like eleven. Why can’t you just get sick of me already?”

Remus moved closer to you, invading your personal space. He began to twirl a tendril of your hair in his fingers. “I enjoy you too much.”

You threw your hands up. “Why do I even try-“

Remus clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shut up.”

You protested from under his hand, trying to pull his hand away.

“Shut up, someone’s coming.”

You froze, immediately giving in to Remus’s efforts to quiet you down. Footsteps were approaching, and Remus pulled you into a nearby broom closet to avoid any potential run-ins. The closet was small, and you were too close to Remus for comfort. When Remus stopped hearing footsteps, he uncovered your mouth.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” you warned, “I’m so sick of you.”

“Sick of me, are you? And you don’t think I have my reasons for treating you the way I do?”

Your eyes widened. “So why don’t you just tell me what those reasons are? Let me fix them so you can get out of my life.”

“I just really, really, hate you,” Remus spat, your faces too close.

“Oh, I guarantee I hate you more,” you responded.

You and Remus stared at each other for a moment, both worked up, before he pressed you against the wall, kissing you roughly. Your first instinct was to push him off and fight, but it felt too good, and you found yourself kissing him back.

The kiss was anything but intimate, full of pure hunger, lust, and hatred.

Remus quickly began to kiss down your jawline and on your neck, sucking a sweet spot right below your earlobe. You whined, the sound escaping your lips before you even knew it was coming.

His hand traveled downward, slightly lifting your dress as his fingers played with the waistband of your underwear. He stopped kissing your neck for a moment, searching your eyes for approval.

You nodded your head slightly to prompt him to continue, and he immediately dipped his fingers into your underwear, roughly rubbing circles on your clit.

You tried to control your moans, not wanting to get caught, but also not wanting to allow Remus the satisfaction. He noticed, and it only made him rougher.

Without warning, he shoved two long fingers inside of you. You let out another whine, your head thrown back against the wall, allowing Remus access to your neck again. He sucked and bit at the skin, marking you as his fingers fucked in and out of you.

“I hate this dress,” he sighed, increasing the pace of his fingers and curling them inside of you, “I hate how you always know better than me, I hate how you always blush when James talks to you, I hate your stupid superiority complex, and I hate hate hate Meadowes for kissing you in the greenhouse in fourth year.”

He said all of this without letting up, continuing his assault on your cunt. When he felt you begin to squeeze his fingers, he pulled them out of you, sucking your juices off of them before hoisting one of your legs up to his waist.

“I fucking hate the way you taste,” he added, dropping his pants and lining up his cock with your hole as fast as possible.

He slammed his entire length into you at once, causing you to moan out at the intrusion. He begin to thrust into you immediately, not giving you time to adjust to his size. He held your leg around his waist, allowing him easier access to ruthlessly pound into your cunt.

You wanted to respond, to make it clear that you truly loathed him, but all words escaped you as he fucked you against the broom closet door, his face buried in your neck as your body rocked against the wood.

He was becoming feral. He spoke with each thrust, “I. Fucking. Hate. You.”

Tears began to fall from your eyes at the intensity. He was fucking you harder than you ever thought possible. His cock was nearly splitting you open, the length and power combined reaching spots in your cervix you didn’t think possible.

“Rem-“ you whined, beginning to squeeze around his cock.

A hand wrapped around your throat as his eyes finally met yours. “I hate how fucking pretty that sounds coming from you,” he growled, placing another desperate kiss on your lips.

You were whimpering and crying, Remus taking full control of your body. “Rem, please-“

“Tell me what you think of me,” he demanded.

“Rem, I can’t-“

“Tell. Me.”

You tried to keep your eyes open, your face level with his. “I loathe you,” you breathed out, adrenaline taking over, “I absolutely f-fucking hate you.”

With that, Remus brutally lifted your other leg, wrapping it around his waist, the angle changing without him ever pulling out. He braced himself against the door, a hand next to your head as he slammed into you as fast as he could, chasing his own high as you came around him, milking him until he reached his own apex.

“Fuck,” he moaned, and after a few more thrusts and violent snapping of his hips, he came inside of you, breathing heavily and the air hot.

He pulled out of you, dropping your legs, causing you to nearly fall over. You caught yourself, stumbling as you smoothed out your dress.

You and Remus exchanged a look, sweaty and panting, and you broke the silence first.

“I’m going back to my common room,” you told him, “to forget that just happened.”

Remus pouted. “I don’t think you want that, doll,” he teased, “there’s some desires only Rem can fulfill.”

You almost slapped him. He fully just fucked you, and was already teasing you.

“I hate you,” you reassured him, swinging open the broom closet door and walking back to your common room.

[beardedalcoholic]

Space Cowboys

The humans had abandoned them. After seemingly endless cycles of fighting the battle was about to be lost and the war with it, and the humans had left them to fight for themselves.

‘So much for the legendary pack-bonding of humans.’ Krillna thought to himself as he leaned around his bunker to lay down some suppressing fire on the enemy. Tungsten rods magnetically accelerated to near supersonic speed ripped into the battle field and enemies died by the dozens…but it wasn’t enough.

Seemingly endless waves of the reptilian enemies known as the Slentine seemed to crawl and slither towards their position. Fields of scales and fangs greeted him every time he looked around his barrier, looks of desperation and hopelessness looked back every time he turned away from the battle.

“You would think the humans could have at least left us the weapons before they ran like cowards!” cried out one soldier before he was cut down by enemy fire.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

“Did anyone else hear that?” Krillna asked after firing another salvo of rounds towards the slowly advancing enemy. Looking at his ammo counter and seeing it was empty, Krillna threw his weapon to the ground and grabbed the ceremonial bone dagger the warriors of his people were gifted upon maturity.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

Holding the blade to his chest and breathing the prayers of his youth, Krillna begged the seven skies of his homeland for the power of the mighty storm, pleaded for his spirit to be flown on the winds to his ancestors. Finding himself at the end of his prayers and ready to face the enemy head on and to fight tooth, bone and claw in the ways of his ancestors, Krillna couldn’t help but think he heard something on the wind again. Looking to the forest side of the battlefield, Krillna felt a rumbling through the pads of his clawed foot.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ RAWHIIIIIDE!

With the sound of thunder and snapping trees, Krillna felt all three of his hearts stop and fall.

Gierophants, mighty horned beasts weighing several tons with great crests of hardened skin behind the skull to protect the neck and a row of spines extending the length of the spine, each one several times as tall as Krillna’s seven foot frame. Easy to anger, nearly impossible to outrun, harder to damage and often found in herds of fifty to one-hundred the gierophant was this world’s largest inhabitant, but Krillna thought he saw something on the back of the lead beast.

Humans.

Humans were riding the gierophants…a herd of what looked to be sixty or more and each one had a human standing on the snout of the creature and even more behind the crest or between the dorsal spines.

RAIN AND WIND AND WEATHER

The humans were either lashed to a spine or each other with lengths of rope and each one was firing wildly into the horde of enemies, hanging sideways from the flanks of the great beasts, weaving between the spines, crouching behind the crest and all were firing their rifles.

HELL BENT FOR LEATHER

“Sir? Am I having a substance dream or are those humans riding Gierophants into the Slentine ranks in a stampede while singing what sounds like a human battle song?” A young warrior asked in disbelief as the battle field seemed to come to a stop. The pause didn’t last long as the slentine soldiers quickly turned their weapons on the stampede of human madness and animal rage.

WISHING MY GIRL WAS BY MY SIIIDEEE!

“You are most definitely seeing this pup, the crazy humans went and did the impossible again…WARRIORS OF CANTRAXA!” Krillna called out to the stunned warriors behind him, filled with a renewed hope for victory.

“DRAW YOUR BLADES AND RELOAD YOUR WEAPONS, THE HUMANS HAVE GIVEN US THIS CHANCE AND BY THE FIRE PLAINS OF OUR HOME WORLD I WILL NOT STAND BY AND MAKE NOTHING OF IT!” Holding his blade high above his head the Pack-Master let loose the battle cry of his ancestors with such ferocity that it seemed to ring from the very heavens, turned from his comrades and ran face first into the chaos of the newly evened battle.

ALL THE THINGS IM MISSIN’

Three hardened battle packs of Cantraxa warriors, thought to be beaten down by sheer numbers and attrition, thought to be defeated and simply too stupid to understand… howled. Each and every one felt what the humans referred to as battle lust and with the feeling of fire singing in their veins each and every one reached deep into their souls and called the ancient war cries of times long past. GOOD VITTLES, LOVE AND KISSIN’

The humans sang on, swinging wildly from the sides of the Gierophants or hanging on with one hand and firing with the other, seemingly oblivious to the rounds of enemy’s fire flying past them. With every human felled the others seemed to sing louder. Krillna was in awe of these small hairless creatures as he ran towards the battle, they rode the great beasts of this world like they were born to it, they faced a horde of enemies without fear and sang their defiance in the face of death and defeat. ARE WAITING AT THE END OF MY RIIIIIIDEEEEE~

================================================

The battle was won, the slentine ranks had been broken in half by the stampede and when the front ranks turned to fire on the new threat they were drowned in an avalanche of fur and fang, bullet and bone from the Cantraxa warriors.

The humans had run over and shot down much of the enemy, the field had been churned to a bloody mud pit of broken bodies and weapons, the Gierophants were long gone by then, the humans had dismounted and returned to base.

Krillna watched in curious amazement as the humans went about their post battle chores.

Groups of humans combing the battlefield for survivors, pulling bodies from the muck and determining if they could be saved or not. Slentine and Cantraxian alike were given final honors or medical aid…mere hours before these small hairless maniacs were riding juggernauts of death into battle while singing and laughing and now, they were providing aid and respect to not only their comrades but the enemy as well.

Amazing graaaceee

A hauntingly sad and seemingly profound song floated like fog over the battle field from somewhere among the humans.

How sweet the sound

Funeral pyres and graves were dug according to cultural wishes, wounded were cared for regardless of species or alignment in the war. Bodies counted and tears were shed that day and as the last sun in the sky fell below the horizon, Krillna found himself surrounded by his warriors and humans.

Holding a strange liquid in his cup, the humans called it beer…or maybe stout?...Krillna looked to the leader of the humans as she stood upon a table laden with food and drink.

“Tonight, we celebrate our victory!” The humans cheered and the Cantraxans yipped and howled like pups.

 “Tonight, we mourn our glorious fallen!” With a silence that choked the very soul, every human raised their drink to the memory of those they had lost and drank deeply. Krillna and his warriors all mimicked the humans in their silence and honors.

 “Tonight…we honor our worthy enemies.” The commander of the humans raised her cup one last time and as one all the humans followed. Krillna could not see the reason behind the last one but was not about to comment on it while surrounded by humans.

Instruments were tuned and soon employed to their fullest extent as humans began dancing and singing, wagers were made, games were played and for a few moments Krillna could almost believe that they were simply back in his homeland celebrating the lunar convergence festival.

Spotting the human leader on the outskirts of the revelry Krillna silently approached the human as she slowly drank and watched those she had shed blood with. Stepping on a fallen can of some kind alerted the commander and as she whipped her head towards Krillna, he froze in place…the look in her eyes was not that of a celebration, but rather that of battle mad soldiers. Items within reach categorized as weapons, responses and plans ranging from peacefully violent to disturbingly chaotic flashed through her face in seconds. Her grip on the cup she held and the tensing of her muscles told Krillna that she had to stop herself from launching the cup at his face.

Raising his clawed hands in a sign of peace Krillna approached the commander slowly. As he approached the tiny human, no more than five feet tall, Krillna noticed tears leaking from her eyes in a steady stream cutting tracks through the remaining dirt and grime upon her cheeks. Hands shaking the commander raised the nearly impromptu projectile to her mouth and took a steadying sip before addressing the large warrior.

“What can I do for you Pack-Master?” Asked the commander as she turned her eyes back to the celebration before her.

“You do not celebrate victory like the others? Why do you spill tears so freely War Mother?” Krillna asked, using the honorific of the greatest female warriors of his people.

“I uh…it just takes a little time for me to wind down from battle and get into the spirit of things, eventually I’ll head out and show these youngsters how to really party but for now I will just have to deal with the aftermath of the adrenalin.” The commander said with a small shake to her voice.

“I have heard of this adrenalin, most species would simply die if exposed to it but you humans produce it naturally?” The Pack-Master asked.

“Yes, our bodies naturally produce it and well…it dissipates quicker for some and for others it sticks around longer. Battle madness, bloodlust, berserker rage and more are just different names of the same thing, active or excess adrenalin…our minds are changed and muscles freed of restraints while under its influence but afterwards we have to put the beast back in the cage and deal with the mess it made, physically, mentally and spiritually.” The commander responded with a look in her eyes that said she was looking deep into the past.

“How did you humans tame the Gierophants? It was previously thought impossible to even safely approach them never mind ride them or direct them.” Krillna asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the maudlin thoughts the commander seemed to be sinking into.

With an almost visible brightening of her features the commander looked up at Krillna.

“We didn’t actually tame them, we were trying to find either a good escape route to get everyone out or possibly a way to ambush the Slentine army, make them fight on two fronts as it were. We ran across the herd of Gierophants by accident and sort of came up with the plan on the spot, we figured if they started to stampede in our direction the base would be destroyed but if they went just little to the side they would hit our enemies. Jackson over there used to be what we call a ‘Cowboy’ and said if you can point a bull’s nose in one direction the body would follow, so we made some lassos and climbing rigs and well, the rest is history.” The commander finished with a small shrug and a decidedly less shaky sip of her drink.

 Krillna was almost to shocked to breath.

“You found a herd of the planet’s largest and most dangerous animal, decided to irritate them into charging you with the enemy directly behind, hoping that they would run over said enemy and while they did that you threw ropes on them so you could climb onto them and ride them…you humans are insane.” with a shake of his great furred head Krillna could only thank the seven skies that these lunatics were on their side.

With a laugh the commander tipped the last of her drink back and wrapped her hand around one of his fingers, his hand being large enough to completely encompass her own, and began to pull him towards the firelight of the bonfires, a mischievous light in her eyes and a smile that spoke of wicked delights to come on her lips.

“Oh you haven’t even begun to see the madness of humanity, come and we shall sing you songs of our people.” The commander laughed as the crowd enveloped them, music wound through the air like smoke, soldiers and warriors alike danced and spun and Krillna could only laugh as he downed the rest of his drink and threw reservations to the wind with a final thought.

‘Humans are weird, but wonderful.

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part III

Fred was just stepping out of the bathroom next to the main stage when he witnessed Mark's transformation firsthand.

He was still dumbfounded, trying to come up with excuses for what he saw—it must have been some kind of light trick, but Mark wasn’t the type to pull a stunt like that. That was more Jamie's style; maybe he convinced Mark to get into this. Yeah, it had to be something like that, he thought, coming up with justifications as he decided to head back to the bar to look for his friends and get an explanation for all this. Just as he was about to take his first step, someone spoke to him.

“It could have been you! But now another kind of life awaits you.” Turning around quickly, Fred found himself face to face with the club’s bouncer, who was smiling enigmatically at him.

Not wanting to get into trouble and fighting the curiosity to ask the man what the hell he meant, Fred continued on his way. Halfway to the bar, weaving through the crowd, he spotted the performer Marco, all sweaty, strutting on stage toward the VIP area where the club manager was grinning at him. Finally stopping, he flexed his muscles.

“What a freak show,” Fred thought, but he couldn’t look away. “Why and how did Mark get into this? And how the hell did that transformation happen?” he pondered, diverting his gaze when the two men began kissing passionately, but not before sneaking one last peek and seeing them both looking right at him, smirking as if they knew something he didn’t. Which was probably true. He needed to find those two jerks and get the hell out of there.

As he approached the bar, he got shoved by one of the muscular drunks dominating the place. “Where had all the women gone?” He was sure there had been a ton of them when they arrived. Picking himself up, he realized he somehow ended up behind the bar. A young Latino man in his twenties looked at him, grinning like he knew him.

“There you are, Papi! I’ve been waiting for you all night!”

“What the hell was this?” He didn’t know who this guy was, but there was something in his eyes��

“Jamie?”

“It’s Javi, you’re hurting my feelings, Papi, after you took my ass so hard, you forget my name like that…” The younger guy said, stepping closer while his smile fading.

He needed to get out of there; something was seriously wrong, and he had to leave—now! Without thinking twice, he stood up and bolted.

When he reached the entrance, he once again bumped into the mysterious Mr. Shay, who was caressing and kissing Marco—or was it actually Mark?

Seizing the chance to escape that madhouse, he slipped out the door, breathing a sigh of relief for a moment before running smack into the massive black bouncer, who stared him down as if daring him to leave.

With no way out, he turned back only to find himself facing an even scarier sight. Mr. Shay, this time alone but with those massive horns on display, and Fred was sure the guy didn’t have time to put on any kind of prosthetics. To make matters worse, he heard the man’s voice inside his head.

“Fred, Fred, Freddie, always the weakest, always humiliated, needing to learn to fight with words because no one ever taught you how to use your fists. But does it have to be this way? Let me show you another option, Freddie; if you refuse to accept it, you can walk out that door, and no one will stop you, not even Hank out there, though I think he’ll be disappointed; he seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“That offends me, Freddie; I always give my clients a choice. You should know that from all the stories going around about me, most of them lies, but this one’s true. Plus, you don’t have choice.” The demon said as Fred fell into a dark abyss.

The first image he saw was of a blond kid like him talking to a strong, muscular older man.

“… Frank, you have to be strong; our land is surrounded by enemies, the Soviet Union has fallen, and independence will come, but we will always be surrounded by foes.”

… you have to be strong… be strong…

He was strong; by seventeen, he was a prodigy in various forms of combat, including Brazilian jiu-jitsu, boxing, and Krav Maga. He honored his father's request, becoming a man of few words but decisive actions.

… decisive actions… actions….

“Action will unfold at the border, and anyone who dares think it shouldn’t be taken seriously will have to deal with me.”

Lieutenant František Andel of the Czech Republic Army was known for his ruthlessness, always ready for war.

… ready for war… war…

The Russian invasion of Ukraine put all the states previously belonging to the Soviet Union on high alert, and the Czech Republic was one of the first to provide all possible humanitarian and military aid to the country. Frank was sent to ensure the delivery of projectile shipments, although under strict orders not to get involved in the conflict. What he didn’t expect was to meet Bohdan, a young man 15 years his junior, forced by circumstances to serve his country. Bohdan wasn’t like him; he was a sensitive, affectionate kid with a fantastic ass. Against everything he should have done, Frank let himself get involved, only to see the kid taken from him, which made all of Frank’s rage surface, causing him to lose his head and attack the Russians mercilessly in the midst of his despair.

… despair… despair… no mercy…

Frank looked mercilessly at the desperate face of his opponent, more than a year after Bohdan’s death, and he felt nothing—no pleasure, no anger, just a huge void that even the violent underground fights or the booze he downed every night couldn’t fill.

… booze… fill….

“What do you want?” he asked with a serious face while waiting for the owner of the dive fill hiss glass, maybe the seventh or eighth of the night, although deep down he knew that not all the booze in the world would be able to satisfy him.

“I have a job offer for you, a new beginning, new possibilities, maybe new… lover.” The man said with a smile.

The flood of information was so overwhelming that Fred could barely move. Still, with all the effort in the world, he turned and bolted for the door. Only to hear the demon’s voice whisper in his ear. “Unfortunately for you, Fred, my deal was made with Jamie; you were never my client.” Then with a single step, that torrent of information flooded his mind once more, with many more scenes and memories, as his body expanded, muscles piling on, covered by the black security uniform, and his young face aged a decade and a half until it became a tribute to rugged masculinity, and František found himself in front of his boss back inside the club.

“Called for me, boss?”

“Yes, Frank, Poncho came to talk to me about your relationship with his nephew. As antiquated as it may be, he wants to know what your intentions are with the kid. And since the man has been with me for centuries, I can’t ignore his concerns.”

“He doesn’t need to worry, boss; I have the best intentions for his nephew.”

“As the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe in hell. Hell is in our heads, and I’ve already lived mine, and I won’t miss the chance to find happiness before another hell comes.”

“How can you say you don’t believe in hell while working here, working for me?”

“Honestly, sir, if this is hell and you really are the devil, which I don’t think you are, I wouldn’t mind spending eternity here!”

“You flatter me, Frank! Now go find Poncho and calm his heart before you replace Hank; he’s itching for some fun.”

Frank walked through the club with all the confidence of someone who knew a single word from him could end any trouble, although deep down he longed for the chance for a good fight.

When he arrived at the bar, he didn’t find Poncho, but standing at the door leading to a secret room was Javier, looking at him with a seductive gaze.

“Did I do something wrong, Papi, for you to ignore me like this?”

“I’m not ignoring you, kid; I just had to sort out an urgent issue, and besides, your uncle was around. He was complaining to the boss, so I need to find him to talk about my intentions with you.”

“And what intentions are those, Papi?”

“The most serious ones possible, Javi.”

“How boring, Papi, because right now all I wanna do is have some fun.” The younger guy said, turning and swaying his hips seductively into the room, and Frank couldn’t resist following him inside with a smile on his face.

The two were wrapped up after some wild sex in the mirrored room overlooking the dance floor and stage of the club that the boss liked to use sometimes to feel like everyone was watching him while he pulled off the most unimaginable acts of depravity, although those on the other side couldn’t actually see anything through the glass.

“We need to go; our break is almost over, and I still haven’t talked to your uncle.” Frank said, getting up and pulling the smaller man close.

“Just one more kiss, Papi!” Javier said, attacking the bigger man with a passionate kiss until they were interrupted.

“I thought you were going to talk to Poncho, Frank. Instead, you came to deflower his nephew.” The boss commented, smiling, accompanied by the Italian porn star who was one of his regular partners.

“Sorry, boss, I didn’t find Poncho, so…”

“… so you decided to use my room to satisfy your carnal needs.”

“Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.”

“Certainly not, because next time I’ll be joining you.” The man said, grinning. “Now go; Hank is gonna lose the little hair he has left if you don’t replace him soon. But Javi stays; Marco and I are gonna play a little. I hope there’s no problem with that.”

“No, sir, Javi can play with whoever he wants, as long as he knows the serious stuff is only with me. But I gotta say, after the speech you made about me needing to talk to Poncho…”

“Ahhh, hypocrisy is one of the perks of being the devil, my dear.” The boss replied with a mischievous smile.

….

“I see you didn’t waste any time.” Frank commented as he saw Hank approaching, wearing shorts and loafers instead of the uniform pants and boots.

“I gotta be quick before all the good ones are taken. You already put your paws on Poncho’s nephew, and I’m not crazy enough to try anything with the boss’s Italian. Though maybe I shouldn’t worry too much.”

“Why not?”

“Take a look at who’s coming over there.” Hank said, nodding toward a group of three young guys who were smiling as they walked toward them at the front of the line.

“Jerome’s group?” Frank asked.

“Jerome’s group.” Hank replied, grinning. “Hope you manage to catch at least some of the fun.”

“Oh, I’ll find a way. I’ll see you inside.” He replied before strutting confidently toward the boys.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?” he asked, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

“Good night, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and said that he hopes… that he hopes you… you have a… a hell of a night.” One of the braver kids said, or maybe just the most daring.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” One of them said, handing over the IDs he knew were fake, though he still made a point to scrutinize them with a serious look, just to intimidate the boys a little.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed before handing the IDs back to the kids and cracking a smile.

“Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

[mya-valentine]

Headcanon: Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, and Kaminari with a S/O that Has a Motorcycle

Katsuki Bakugou

Bakugou loves anything that gets his heart pumping, and when he sees you pull up on a motorcycle, he's immediately impressed. The roar of the engine? The sleek design? Yeah, that’s his kind of thing. He’s all about speed and danger, and now that you’ve got a motorcycle, he’s more than eager to hop on for a ride.

Bakugou doesn’t ask for rides—he demands them. He’s always in control, so it takes him a bit to get used to sitting behind you. But eventually, he comes to enjoy the thrill of you weaving through traffic or speeding down an open road. Of course, he’ll never admit that he trusts you enough to handle it.

It’s only a matter of time before Bakugou starts pushing to get his own motorcycle so he can race you. You can bet he’ll be cocky about it, bragging that there’s no way you can beat him in a head-to-head race. It turns into a competition for who’s the better rider, with lots of teasing and banter along the way.

Despite his tough-guy attitude, Bakugou can’t help but worry about your safety. He’ll nag you about wearing your helmet, making sure your bike’s in good condition, and even insists on checking the brakes himself. He won’t say it outright, but it’s clear that he wants you to stay safe while you’re out riding.

Eijiro Kirishima

Kirishima’s eyes light up when he sees you on your motorcycle for the first time. “That’s so manly!” he exclaims, completely in awe. He’s always thought you were cool, but this just takes it to a whole new level in his eyes. He loves how fearless you are, and it makes him admire you even more.

Kirishima is all for jumping on the back of your bike. At first, he’s a bit nervous, but the second you take off, he’s whooping with excitement. “This is awesome!” he shouts over the sound of the engine. He’s all about that thrill and loves holding on tight to you, feeling the wind rush past him.

Kirishima knows a little about mechanics, so he offers to help with maintenance. Whether it’s oiling the chain or checking the tires, he’s eager to pitch in. It’s another way for him to bond with you, and he wants to make sure everything’s safe so you can keep riding together.

Riding a motorcycle takes confidence, and Kirishima is always your biggest cheerleader. “You’re so brave for doing this,” he’ll say, genuinely proud of how cool and bold you are. He’s always hyping you up and never gets tired of watching you in action, whether it’s riding around or handling a tricky situation with the bike.

Izuku Midoriya

Midoriya is both fascinated and worried when he finds out you have a motorcycle. His first thought is about safety—he’s read tons of statistics on accidents and can’t help but fuss over you. But he’s also amazed by your confidence and skill, and he respects you for doing something so bold.

After finding out about your bike, Midoriya goes into full research mode. He starts learning all about motorcycles, from how they work to the best safety gear. He’ll send you little messages like, “Did you know this helmet is rated the safest?” or “I found some tips for riding in bad weather!”

Midoriya isn’t sure about riding with you at first. He’s nervous about the speed and the lack of protection compared to a car. But once you convince him to try, he realizes how exhilarating it is. He’ll cling to you at first, but after a while, he loosens up and starts to enjoy the ride, even if his heart’s still pounding.

Even though he trusts you, Midoriya can’t help but worry every time you head out on your bike. He’ll ask you to text him when you arrive safely and remind you to stay hydrated and be cautious. His concern is sweet, and it shows just how much he cares about you and your well-being.

Denki Kaminari

When Kaminari sees your motorcycle, he’s instantly excited. “Oh man, this is so cool!” he’ll gush, practically bouncing on his feet. He’s already imagining all the fun things the two of you could do with the bike—road trips, racing, and just showing off to your friends.

Kaminari is not shy about asking for rides. “C’mon, take me for a spin!” he’ll beg, hopping onto the back of your bike without hesitation. He loves the thrill of speeding down the road with you and is constantly asking when you can go out for another ride.

He loves bragging to his friends about your motorcycle. “Yeah, my S/O rides a bike. It’s super cool,” he’ll casually drop into conversation, like it’s no big deal. Kaminari thinks it makes both of you look awesome, and he takes any chance he can get to show you off.

Kaminari’s a bit of a goof, so he might try doing silly things while riding—like taking selfies or sticking his arms out to pretend he’s flying. You have to remind him to hang on properly so he doesn’t accidentally fall off, but he just laughs it off, trusting you completely to keep him safe.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[iliketangerines]

body worship/praising

a/n: consider this a part 3 to drunk sex. also, thanks to @neteyamsoare and @inlovewithpandora for hosting this event! it was a ton of fun to write for, and i'll have to catch up on reading all of the fics underneath this event!

pairing: tsu'tey x afab!dreamwalker!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), porn with feelings, pussy eating, public sex, praise kink (sort of)

Tsu’tey watches you as you stand proudly next to Jake, his face and body painted in the familiar swirls of white paint that proved he was one with the Omatikaya Clan

he watches as you smile brightly and place a hand on his shoulder, the others quickly joining in to create an interconnected circle of all of them

his hand hesitates above your shoulder, and then he places it down, feeling you stiffen underneath the pressure

your tail curls down low and around your leg in an effort to self-sooth and your ears pin back to your head, but you keep that bright smile on your face as to try and not disrupt the ceremony

what he had done back at the celebration was wrong, he knows it was, but somehow he cannot find the bravery to confront you, to talk to you about how he felt

a great warrior, felled by his own emotions, it was almost embarrassing, but Tsu’tey squashes the feeling and instead gathers the pride of Jake being accepted

he still didn’t like the dreamwalker, even if he had completed his Iknimaya before you, because even if you had none of the physical abilities, you were fully and completely Na’vi in your heart

Tsu’tey had yet to determine whether Jake’s heart truly belongs with the Omatikaya clan

the ceremony ends in a a blur and before he can even reach out to speak to you, you shrug off his shoulder and walk over to Neytiri, your new mentor after that night

you give her a quick greeting, lips moving in a conversation that Tsu’tey cannot hear, but he wants to so desperately, to be near you

but never once do you even spare him a glance, simply walking away in the direction opposite from Tsu’tey

he approaches Neytiri afterwards, congratulating her on how her student had passed the Ikinimaya and that Jake was now finally a warrior

she only gives him a scowl, pushing at his shoulder and telling him to go and make it up to you, that whatever he had done all those weeks ago had affected everything you did

the warrior can only look down in shame, and Tsu’tey says that he knows, that he should apologize to you

Neytiri sighs and says that you’ve gone off to the pali fields, that the animals brought you great comfort and that you needed a little more practice in riding

Tsu’tey nods in thanks and goes off to chase you, weaving through the crowd and into the sounds of the forest as he looks for you by the pali training fields

as he brushes past a large leaf, he finds you riding calmly on one of the pali, gently guiding it in a circle around the field, eyes focused on the path in front of you

you’ve greatly improved since you’ve come here, but he doesn’t ever remember telling you that you had done well, that you were doing better

clearing his throat, he says that you’ve improved, voice echoing in the air

the pali noticeably stiffens before grunting and growing agitated, hooves stomping into the ground and head shaking in irritation

you quickly unmount the pali and break tsaheylu, muttering to him that you didn’t want to talk to him, and you try to brush past him

he reaches out for you, words failing in his mouth as he watches the view of your back slowly disappear into the foliage

calling out for you, he says that he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, that he never meant to hurt you

it gives you pause, your hand holding onto a leaf blocking your path, and your ears flick in interest at his apology

but you don’t turn around, and Tsu’tey takes it as a signal to continues

he walks closer toward you, each step slow and careful as he speaks, saying that he regret that he had left you like that, that he knows he hurt you and that he shouldn’t have done that

slowly you turn around, just as Tsu’tey stops in front of you, and he purses his lips, taking just a moment to think before saying that you were one of them, that he knows of the effort you had put in to learn their ways and the patience you had to deal with his short temper

those past few weeks without you had been torturous, slow, and he missed you, he had missed your smile, your voice, the sound of your footsteps behind him

Tsu’tey drops his head slightly, casting his gaze downward, and he says once more that he’s sorry, if you would forgive him

there’s no answer from you for a second, and he waits, trying to sooth the nervousness raging in his stomach

your voice is like a lullaby, cutting through the noise of the darkening forest, and you say that you forgive him, that you know where he’s coming from, that your people has done a lot of harm to his people

every word you say is slow, careful as you speak in na’vi, and Tsu’tey barely breathes, trying to absorb your every word and sound that you make

he lets out a breath when you finish, closing his eyes and thanking you, that you truly were a pure soul, just as the atokirina had shown

the night he met you flashes in his head, the way you had looked so soft and confused, clinging to yourself, the way that a single atokirina floated down from the sky as the tsahik judged you and landed perfectly in your palms, the way you had stared at it with wide eyes and with a held breath

that night, Tsu’tey should’ve known you were not a demon but just someone who had come from a system that hurt and killed, an unwilling puppet in a destructive system

he breathes out that you are a pure soul, that you were better than he would ever be, and he hears you let out a huff

opening his eyes, he’s met with your slight smile, your freckles glowing in the darkness of the night, and he wants to do nothing more than trace the patterns on your face

his hands slowly come up, and he brings them to cup your face, thumbs rubbing your cheeks up and down as he counts the stars on your skin

you let him, hands coming up to hold onto his wrists, but you don’t move from his grip, letting him do as he liked

his eyes wander your face, drinking in every detail, and his gaze flickers to your lips for just a brief moment before he lets out a quiet whisper that you’re beautiful

your cheeks heat up underneath his palms, and your gaze drops away from his, almost as if you were embarrassed, and you whisper out a quick thanks

silence envelops the two of you, only the sound of your soft breaths and Eywa surrounding the two of you as you two stand there unmoving

Tsu’tey breaks the silence first, asking you if you would let him make it up to you, to make-up that night and to give you what you deserved

your hold on his wrists tighten, but you only lean in closer to him and then let out a small yes

he brings one hand down from your face to hold onto your waist and leans his head forward until his lips brush against yours

it’s soft as he presses forward, lips soft and slow in their movements, but you sigh into the kiss and melt into his touch, hands resting on his shoulders

your kiss is somehow much better than he remembered, sweet, honeyed, all and completely you without the taste of alcohol stinging his tongue

humming into the kiss, he draws you in a little tighter, wishing he could have you all to himself, to never part from you

you let him hold onto you tighter, and Tsu’tey parts from you to just admire you, to stare at your beauty, to just see you

always such a beauty in his arms, gorgeous and beautiful, and he tells you as much, that you’re beautiful, brighter than the stars in the sky and as breathtaking as the views from the clouds

he can feel you warm underneath his touch, the way your lips slightly part, how you pupils slightly dilate at his words

one more time, he leans forward to kiss you, his hands moving to slowly untie your clothing from your body

his hands are careful, just in case you decided to pull away, but you never do, keeping your hands on his shoulders as an anchor to this reality

slowly, your top and your tewng come away from your body, and Tsu’tey parts once more from your sweet lips to drop to his knees and look at you

he kisses at your thighs, eyes focused on you through his hazy vision, and he mumbles into your skin that he could look at you forever, taste you forever

his hands grip onto your thighs as they slightly part for his head, and Tsu’tey groans in delight at the taste of you on his tongue

how he had deprived himself of you, he would never know, but you taste clean, sweeter, better than the fresh waters of eywa’eveng

Tsu’tey groans as his tongue presses into you, tasting every part of you, worshiping every part of you with his mouth

he how wrong was he about you, no one so evil could ever taste like this, no one who would harm others would sound so sweet as you moan and whine into the air

your thighs tremble and twitch underneath his palms, and he thinks that he could die like this, on his knees before you, your softness surrounding his

gripping on tighter to your knees, he presses his face forward to taste you better, to bury his tongue further into your heat, to bring you to your high

you moan into the air, hands digging into his braids, and Tsu’tey only groans at the pressure, fucking his tongue and moaning into your heat

your hips buck against his, clit grinding against the flat of his nose, and you whine out his name, hips rutting against his face as you come

Tsu’tey could be like this for forever, your sweetness on his tongue, your thighs trembling underneath his grip and around his head, your moans filling his ears like the holiest music he could ever hear

grunting into your heat, he ignores the own ache in his pants and brings you through your orgasm, lapping at your pussy and collecting every drop of you

as you come down, he moves his face away and kisses at the inside of your plush thighs, staring up at you until you look down at him

he tells you that you’re so good for him, too good to him, and he rises up to his feet to kiss you once more, your moans filling his body with a pleasure he would never be able to recreate by himself

this time, you part from him first, pressing your forehead against his, hands gripping onto his shoulders, and your hands tug at his tewng cautiously

Tsu’tey hums and says that he wants to do this properly, to not just make this so simple, to have you in every way and not next to the pali

you laugh slightly, saying that he had just tasted you right next to them, and Tsu’tey just lets out a huff of amusement in response, saying that if he wanted to mate with you, that he wanted to feel all of you and this place was…not the most romantic of sights

if he could have his way, he would take you right now, to feel all of you right now, to have all of you right now, but this was not the right place

there’s a soft sigh from you, and then you mumble out an agreement, saying that the two of you near the pali pastures would not be a good story to tell to Neytiri

Tsu’tey looks up at you in amusement, and you roll your eyes and say that he wouldn’t understand before telling him to look away as you redressed

he laughs at that, saying that he had already seen all of you, traced your skin with his lips and his tongue, and you glares at him with those strange brows and hiss at him to look away

turning around, he sighs and crosses his arms, but a small smile plays on his face

you were strange, but you were his strange love, and he wouldn’t change it

[tinyproprodigy]

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

"Staggered to meet you"

Neito Monoma x reader (F)

Neito Monoma swaggered into the Gym Gamma training arena, his blond hair perfectly coiffed and his U.A. uniform impeccably pressed. Flashing his trademark smirk, he scanned the crowd of students until his gaze landed on you - a relatively unremarkable member of Class 1-A.

"Well, well, if it isn't little (Y/N)," he drawled, sauntering over. "I was hoping to spar against one of the elite students today, but I suppose you'll have to do."

You narrowed your eyes as Monoma lazily twirled a lock of hair around his finger. His incessant teasing and constant attempts to rile up your class had become tiresome. But today, you were determined to wipe that smug grin off his face.

"Bring it on, Monoma," you retorted, cracking your knuckles. "Maybe you'll finally get that ego of yours knocked down a few pegs."

Monoma let out a derisive laugh. "My, my, such confidence! Though I can hardly blame you for being starstruck in my presence." He assumed a fighting stance, his eyes glinting with Challenge. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

The match began, and almost immediately, Monoma's copied quirks gave him the upper hand. Bursts of fire scorched the arena floor as he unleashed a barrage of attacks. You dodged and weaved, biding your time as he continued his relentless assault.

Then, just as Monoma began to tire, you saw your opening. With a speed he didn't anticipate, you closed the distance between you, your fist connecting squarely with his chiseled jaw.

Monoma's eyes went wide with shock as he stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet and crashing to the ground in an undignified heap. The entire class erupted into raucous laughter and cheers as the great Neito Monoma found himself flat on his back, staring up at you in disbelief.

"Impossible..." he mumbled, gingerly prodding his soon-to-be-bruised jaw. "How could I, the elite Neito Monoma, be floored by someone from the inferior Class 1-A?"

You offered him a sarcastic smile and a hand up. "I guess all that ego finally caught up to you," you quipped, trying (and failing) to stifle a giggle at his ruffled appearance.

As the days passed, Monoma found his thoughts continually drifting back to that fateful sparring session. No matter how he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't shake the image of you standing over him, your (h/c) hair tousled and a triumphant grin on your face.

It was... oddly captivating.

He started noticing little things about you that he'd never paid attention to before. The way your nose scrunched up when you concentrated in class. The melodic lilt of your laugh as you joked with your friends. The confident sway of your walk as you strode down the hallway.

Monoma caught himself staring more than once, only to be met with a quizzical look or a teasing remark from his classmates. He tried to brush it off, but the truth became increasingly difficult to ignore.

Neito Monoma, the self-proclaimed "elite" who looked down on Class 1-A, had developed a massive, all-consuming crush on you.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks one afternoon as he watched you sparring with Midoriya. You moved with a grace and power that

left him slack-jawed, and when you caught his eye and flashed him a lopsided grin, his heart did a traitorous little flip in his chest.

Monoma was officially smitten.

From that day on, his attempts to get under your skin took on a new, almost flirtatious undertone. He went out of his way to seek you out, always finding an excuse to be in your vicinity. Mundane things like watching you take notes in class or eat your lunch suddenly became fascinating displays worthy of his utmost attention.

"Eyes up here, Monoma," you'd tease whenever you caught him staring, causing his cheeks to flush a vivid shade of crimson.

His classmates mercilessly ribbed him about his not-so-subtle infatuation, but Monoma couldn't bring himself to care. He was a man on a mission - a mission to win your heart, no matter how bruised his ego became in the process.

After all, he reasoned to himself, a little humility was a small price to pay for the affection of someone as amazing as you. And if getting knocked down a peg or two was what it took, then Neito Monoma would gladly kiss the ground you walked on.

[nastyenemyeater]

Rockstar Choso 🫣👹🎸🥁- FANFIC

I saw some tiktoks about Choso being a drummer and it gave me some ideas.

Here are the links :

SHOUT OUT TO NARUTOSS.RAMEN

either way here's the plot : basically Y/n got cheated on by her bf at a club and she got revenge by kissing the drummer of 'The curses' rockstar band .

“Look Y/n isn’t that Nathan?” asked your best friend, pointing at a guy during a hardcore kissing session with a random girl.

The blasting music, the heat in the club and the moving people passing by and occasionally shoving you to pave their way, were not helping you in any way digest the scene you just witnessed.

Your knees felt weak, your heartbeat increased considerably, memories flashed by, tears started overflowing and millions of questions exploded inside your head “why? Am I dreaming? Why did he cheat so easily? Did he even love me?”

“Go confront him Y/n! What are you waiting for? The fuck??” shouted your best friend, shaking you fervently and bringing you back to the hell.

You couldn’t. Or you thought it didn’t matter anymore.

“That motherfucker” you seethed in anger.

Alcohol was all you could think about. Yes, you needed to drink a shit ton of it. After all, you came to the club to enjoy your Saturday night. You didn’t plan on having your heart broken but … life never goes how you want it right?

You made your way to the bar, jaw clenched, eyes burning with anger and determined to drown the night’s misery in alcohol. The bartender handed you the strongest shot of vodka, and you backed at least five of them. Each one went down smoother than the last, but the pain refused to fade.

"Maybe I should just make out with the first guy that comes along," you thought bitterly, resting your head on your arms as you looked to your left.

Unexpectedly, a pair of dark, hazy eyes were already locked on you. He sat back against the bar, elbows resting casually behind him. His dark, messy hair clung to his sweaty forehead, framing his sharp features – a defined jawline, high cheekbones, and tired, yet piercing eyes that studied you intently. Tattoos snaked up his neck and down his muscular arms, accentuated by the sleeveless black shirt that clung to his broad frame. His legs were spread wide, exuding a quiet confidence and control.

Without thinking, you locked eyes with him, staring intently with no thoughts, just an empty, heated gaze. A faint smirk played on his lips as he stared back, silent but sharp, as if he was waiting for you to make the next move.

“Whatch’you lookin’ at?” he asked with an amused tone, breaking the silence between you two.

You didn’t have the strength to engage in any conversation yet, and all you could do was stare at him. Being in that inebriating state made easy for you to prolongate the eye contact.

He let out a low chuckle, stood from his seat and made his way toward you.

But before he could take another step, 2 other guys suddenly pulled him away, dragging him toward the other side of the bar. A chaotic stream of girls followed, screaming some names as they swarmed after them.

You watched as he winked at you before disappearing into the crowd. Despite the commotion, you remained rooted to your spot, an amused smile playing on your lips as you took in the scene.

“Wow, they must be somebody for them to get followed liked this” you wondered. You groaned loudly as you realized your mistake “Fuckkk ! I just blew my chance … fuck fuck fuck … Uh give me another one please” you said, asking for another shot to forget about this massive fail.

By now, the alcohol coursing through your veins made you feel more at ease, braver, and a little reckless. Confidence surged with every beat of the rock music that pounded through the club, filling your body with raw energy. The tension that had been building up inside you needed an outlet, and before you knew it, you found yourself weaving through the crowd toward the dance floor.

You moved with purpose, shaking off the accumulated stress with each step. The crowd was electric, and soon you managed to slip right to the front of the stage, where you spotted the two guys who had dragged your "new friend" away earlier. They were performing, and you finally recognized them as The Curses, a rockstar band.

You also spotted your "new friend" as their drummer. His name was Choso apparently.

The music reverberated through your body, each beat syncing with the rising tension inside, a strange mix of hurt, anger, and alcohol pushing you to the edge. By the time they finished their set, the adrenaline was pumping so hard it was like a shot of fire to your system.

Without thinking, you somehow climbed up on the stage. The crowd’s roar faded into the background as you grabbed the microphone, your voice raw with emotion as you shouted, “FUCK YOU NATHAN!”

The audience gasped, some laughing, some unsure what was happening, but you didn’t care. Your mind raced as you continued, “GO FUCK YOURSELF NATHAN! YOU DON’T DESERVE SHIT IN YOUR LIFE”

The two guys from the band rushed over, trying to calm you down, but most importantly trying to yank the mic out of your hands. One of them put a hand on your shoulder, but you jerked your arm away and continued, “YOU HEAR ME, NATHAN? YOU MANWHORE”

Someone grabbed your arm, pulling you slightly back as a voice whispered, "C’mon, miss, don’t embarrass yourself. Get down from the—"

But you cut them off, shouting, “DON’T TOUCH ME! I HAVE THE RIGHT TO SPEAK!” Your voice rang out, fierce and defiant. Then, you turned and realized it wasn’t a stranger—it was Choso. His intense, steady gaze met yours, silently pleading for you to calm down. For a moment, everything else faded, and it was just the two of you, his eyes trying to pull you back from the edge.

The noise and chaos seemed to fade into the background. Staring into his captivating eyes, you thought, It’s now or never. Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his plump lips, and without hesitation, you acted.

You dragged him down toward you, while rising up onto your tiptoes, and then you kissed him fervently, all the pent-up emotion pouring into that moment.

His pink-haired friend cackled into the mic, “You hear that, Nathan? You fucked up! Your girl’s gone now!”

“yeah you son a bitch! look at me eating up this guy’s mouth!” you thought, deepening the kiss.

You would be a total liar if you said that making out with Choso was just any other chore to get back at your ex.

No, no, no, no… that man was a beast. The second your lips touched his, he yanked your body against his, your breasts colliding with his large, hard chest.

Every inch of him was solid, muscle-packed beneath his shirt like he was carved from stone. His body radiated heat, and the faint sheen of sweat from his earlier performance mixed with the scent of his cologne—a powerful, intoxicating blend that made you want him even more. The mix was engulfing, dizzying, wrapping around you like a drug, making it impossible to pull away.

What started as a kiss turned into something deeper, more intense. His mouth was commanding, his lips moving over yours with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. His tongue was battling against yours, and all you could do was respond.

He was devouring the fuck out of you.

His hands slid down to your waist, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The feel of his body against yours – strong, immovable – made you crave more. Your fingers roamed up his shoulders, desperate to feel more of him, to get closer.

This wasn’t just some kiss to get back at Nathan. Choso’s kiss was raw, overwhelming, and consuming – everything you didn’t know you needed.

“Ok ok lovebirds! time’s up! you both can finish this later” suggested his sexy black-haired friend.

The crowd's reaction to your passionate kiss was a mix of emotions. Some voices rose in anger, hurling insults, while others cheered loudly, celebrating your bold move. The air buzzed with a clash of discontent and admiration. Some of them even started chanting “fuck you Nathan” in chorus.

But eventually, all good things must come to an end … and you had to shed yourself from Choso’s addictive body. You were both panting and staring at each other’s soul trying to figure out what just happened and what was going to happen afterwards.

“So ... do you make a habit of kissing random guys on stage?” he asked with a smirk, his eyes lingering on your face, taking in every detail.

“I … I have to go …” you stuttered, pushing him slowly away.

“Oh nah you can’t go now. There is no way I’ll let you leave after what you just did to me” he said, pulling you closer.

“I acted impulsively … I’m sorry … I need to go” you said, still trying to get out of his grip.

“Oh, so you’re just going to run back to Nathan?” he spat bitterly, holding you even harder.

You immediately frowned upon hearing his name again.

“Fuck you” you gritted, putting all your almighty force to push yourself away from him.

“That’s perfect, I have a 20-minute break anyway” he said, grinning. Before you could respond, his strong arms encircled your waist. In one swift, fluid motion, you were lifted off the ground. Panic surged as you were hoisted over his shoulder. It wasn’t a gentle lift; it was firm and unyielding.

“Guys, if you don’t mind, I have something to take care of” he informed his friends.

“Man, do whatch’ya gotta do, we lost you the minute she got on stage” said the black-haired guy.

You kicked and hit desperately, your fists pounding against his back. “Put me down!” you screamed, struggling against the grip holding you. “Let me go!”

“I don’t know about you, but I like to kiss a little before fucking. That being said, if you like it rough I can do that for you baby” he said, spanking you.

“The fuck??? did you just spank me?? how dare you??” you screamed at him, outraged.

“oh so we were literally dry-humping each other on stage 5 minutes ago but I can’t spank you now? That’s bullshit! You’re mine now!” he said, pushing an exit door.

When he finally set you down, the cold night air jolted you back to reality.

“Listen, I’m sorry, I didn’t think this through, ok? I just saw my boyfriend kissing a chick and I saw you as an opportunity to get revenge … I’m sorry please, just let me go” you pleaded.

He leaned in, slammed both of his hands on the wall, caging you with his body “So you’re telling me you didn’t enjoy our kissing session?” he asked faking a pout, but clearly amused.

“I didn’t say that” you shyly admitted, looking away.

“Then why are you running away?” he whispered in your ear, his lips now dangerously close to your neck.

“Please understand my situation here, I still have to deal with my feelings” you said, trying to get your neurons to work.

“I know for sure I can get him out of your head and give you new feelings to think about” he whispered against your neck.

“Look, I’m not trying to fuck … I told you I acted impulsively, I’m sorry” you asserted. Your mouth said no but your body craved this man with every alive and dead cell.

“Hey, as much as I love sex, I’m not going to fuck with you if you’re not willing. What I’d really like to do, though, is to get to know you better. So, what���s your name” he asked, his tilted curious face looking at you.

“I … uh … Y/n” you sighed. You knew there was no point in faking a name. You would have forgotten about it anyway.

“Y/n ... I can see myself moaning your name”

“Shut up. Choso.” you said, trying to hide your fluster.

“I definitely can see you moaning my name” he added, with a smirk.

You could see yourself doing that too. Just thinking about it, sent tingling signals to your pussy.

“Can I get another kiss before going back to stage?” he asked with a demanding look on his face. He looked so adorable, with his pleading eyes and his slightly parted lips. He held your chin up with his hand, forcing you to look up to him.

That bastard … He wasn’t playing fairly …

“if you keep looking at me like that I might have to bring you home, and keep you all for myself” he whispered again in your neck.

You couldn’t speak. You were unable to focus on not acting impulsively again and trying to formulate long sentences. Your brain was in a total meltdown.

“Just so you know, I still plan to get my revenge and kiss you first, and when I do, you’re not getting out alive” he added, gently kissing your neck.

Silence.

“Please ... say something, you’re driving me crazy” he whispered, desperation lingering on his voice.

His hands slid on your back, pulling you closer to him.

“Fuck … baby … please … don’t give me the silence treatment …” he whined, holding you harder.

“Ok …just one peck” you sighed, finally making a decision. You had surrendered to this man’s desires.  

You got on your tippy toes and gave him a 4-second peck on his soft lips. But no light brush of lips or polite peck was enough for Choso. As soon as your lips touched again, he kissed you back with everything he had, hungry for so much more.

“Hey! C’mon man, we need you back on stage. Sex time’s over” interrupted pink-haired guy busting the exit door open.

“Fuck off man” Choso growled between kisses, as you both slowly came to a stop.

“I want to see you again baby. Gimme somethin’ more than your name” he asked, visibly frustrated.

“How about you look for me here next Saturday at your concert?” you suggested, smirking unknowingly, your hands roaming on his broad chest.

“And when I catch you,” he said with a grin, “you'll see the things I’m going to do to you.” he finished, with a hard squeeze of your ass.

i hope you liked this story ❤️ don't hesitate to comment and reblog !

[milkweedman]

Coincidentally my usable warp is like exactly as long as my dining room. Point is tho, i am finally done thank fuck

[autumnywinter]

Runaway - Yandere!Vox

TW: Abusive behavior, hypnosis, suggestive, dubious consent implied

Reader is gender neutral

It was a miracle you managed to escape Vox. Not literally. Miracles aren't a thing in Hell, especially not for you. It was a fluke, a mistake on Vox's part, a happy accident that you took full advantage of. It was luck that he happened to have business in another ring on that specific day. You were able to slip out without him noticing, or any of the Vees for that matter.

Not that they really cared to begin with, only to avoid Vox's rage. They both acknowledged you, but as nothing but Vox's pet. That's what you felt like, so they weren't entirely wrong.

And now you were trying your best to avoid him, making your way through the Ring of Pride. You weren't sure where to go, just far away from Vox as possible.

It had been three days since your escape, and you hadn't heard anything about it on the news. But that was more because you were scared to stand next to any TV screen that wasn't bolted down and already turned off.

So you kept your head down, hood up, and tried to think of a plan.

You weren't sure how Vox would react when he finally found you. Well, angry, obviously. Furious even. Would he hypnotize you again? Probably. Not before ripping you a new one. He had never laid a hand on you, but that didn't mean he wouldn't now.

His constant surveillance would make it borderline impossible for something like this to happen again. You couldn't afford to fuck it up.

You felt like an animal on the run. A rat in a maze. Everything you did was to avoid him. It was too exhausting. And dangerous. You couldn't get enough rest to make up for it.

There were so many ways this could go wrong. And so many ways it could go worse. You were ready for anything, willing to do anything to stay away from him. You felt like you were at the end of your rope, but you didn't have any rope left, and you were starting to fall off the ledge.

You had no one. There was no one you could turn to for help, not here. Even if anyone took pity on you, no one would be willing to piss off an Overlord.

But you knew you couldn't keep this up forever. There was no way for you to leave the ring, and Vox had cameras everywhere. Honestly, you're surprised you even still had freedom. Not that it felt like it.

Maybe he wasn't looking for you at all. Maybe he was just waiting for you to come crawling back to him. Or maybe he was watching you right now, waiting for you to slip up so he could swoop in and reclaim you.

One thing you knew Vox would avoid at all costs was to ruin his reputation. He cared far too much about that. So he probably wouldn't want to advertise that his little pet had escaped from his leash. You imagined that was the only reason you were free, or else there'd be a bounty on your head right now.

As you trudged through the streets of Pride, you turned a corner and saw who you recognized as Vox's bodyguards. Though he had tons of them, you knew most of them. Whenever he was gone for business purposes, there'd always be at least two keeping a close eye on you.

Your heart pounded and you felt a wave of dread. But they hadn't seen you yet, and the sidewalk was crowded enough that you could quickly hide in the bustle. You tried to look as inconspicuous as possible while keeping your eyes on them. They seemed to be looking around, checking the crowd for something. Looking for you, you thought.

The crowd dissipated, but a little too soon. There were several more bodyguards on the other side of the street, and they quickly spotted you. Your breath hitched in your throat.

One of them raised a walkie-talkie to their mouth, and you broke out into a run.

You ran as fast as you could, zigzagging through the crowds and almost running into other demons. You turned corners and weaved through alleys, and you could hear the bodyguards not far behind.

Your hood blew off in your frantic running, but you didn't bother to pull it back up. You could barely breathe, the panic and terror taking over.

After what felt like forever, you managed to lose them. You were almost too exhausted to stand, leaning against a wall as you struggled to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell heavily as you gasped for air. Your legs were shaking violently.

There was a familiar sound of static behind you. Your heart stopped.

You spun around, only to come face to face with Vox. He wore an angry scowl, eyes narrowed darkly. You tried to step back, but you bumped into the wall behind you. He stood right in front of you, towering over you. He was absolutely terrifying like this, and you had no way to escape.

He reached out and grabbed your arm roughly, and you flinched and tried to yank away, but his grip was like iron. You looked around desperately for help, but there was no one around. Of course there wasn't. You had run so far from the busy streets, and it was far too late for anyone to be wandering around. If not for that, Vox probably wouldn't have shown up himself.

He dragged you back towards the limo waiting around the corner, ignoring your pleading and resistance. You clawed at his hand and dug your heels into the ground, but it was futile.

"Let go! Please!" you cried, trying to dig your heels into the ground, but Vox just kept pulling you along. You kicked and screamed, but it didn't matter. There was no one here to hear you, no one to save you.

Vox opened the limo door and tossed you inside, slamming it shut behind him. You scrambled backwards into the door. You were cornered, trapped between Vox and the door. Vox climbed into the limo and the driver started moving. You pressed yourself further against the door.

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" he said, his voice a low growl. You shuddered. "I'm your husband. Don't I deserve a little respect?"

'Husband'. That word made you sick. He always claimed that's what he was. You couldn't remember the ceremony, but the papers were real. There wasn't a doubt in your mind he used hypnosis for most of your relationship. You couldn't remember a single memory where you actually were in love with him, especially how much he claimed you were to be.

You felt a lot of things when you were with him, but it certainly wasn't love. You were scared. Angry. Disgusted. Violated. But you were never in love.

"I believe we've talked about how this'd go if you ever tried it, didn't I?" he continued. He pulled out his phone and showed you a video. It was of you, running through the streets of Pride, looking even more exhausted and miserable than you felt, even under the hood. "I know every street cam in Hell, don't forget that."

"Then why didn't you come for me sooner?" you rasped. Your throat felt raw from running, and your lungs burned. Your arm throbbed from where he grabbed you, and you knew there'd be a bruise later.

"I wanted to see if you'd come crawling back to me on your own," he said, leaning forward to look down on you. He was sitting right next to you, his leg pressed against yours. "And you didn't."

You shrunk back slightly. His gaze was harsh and intimidating. The lights of his eyes flickered across his screen and danced on your skin. You felt his gaze bore into you, like he was trying to figure out what was going on in your mind.

You tried to pull your knees up to your chest, but Vox reached out and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. He brushed his thumb along your lower lip.

"I think you need another lesson on how things work," he growled.

"I don't want--"

"Did I ask what you wanted?"

He pinned you against the limo door and leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. You could feel his breath on your cheek.

"Don't act like you didn't miss this, baby," he purred, his tone changing like a switch had been flipped. "Why'd you leave me? Have I not been spending enough time with you? Am I not making you feel loved enough? I'm the only thing that can protect you down here, but I can't do that if you keep running away."

You squirmed under his grasp. He was holding you so tight that it was hard to breathe. It hurt.

His eye swirled, the familiar hypnotic glow enveloping your vision, and the world around you began to melt away. It was like your consciousness was sinking into a swamp. You were still aware of what was happening, but you couldn't control your own body or voice. Even your emotions beneath his control were dulled down, and it felt like a fog had rolled in over your mind.

You went limp and slumped forward against Vox as he cradled you. His hands traveled down your body and slid up under your shirt, brushing against your stomach. Your skin tingled wherever he touched it.

Just as you heard a dark chuckle from him, just as his hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants...

"We're here," the driver said, interrupting the moment. Vox's hands lingered on your hips for a second longer before pulling away. He moved out of the limo first, then helped you out. You followed him inside without hesitation.

He led you inside the tower, an arm wrapped around your waist. As soon as you stepped inside, he kicked the door closed behind him and picked you up bridal style, carrying you into the bedroom.

You wouldn't be coming out of your hypnotized state any time soon.

[mooreaux]

Silly questions ahoy. Sorry not sorry.

Who fell first, Deirdre or Gale?

Who fell harder?

Were there any things outside of the main romance plot beats that they had to overcome?

Do they have a Big Waterdhavian Wedding?

Well here is a real time pic of them realizing simultaneously that they were already neck deep in a romance without having clocked it up until that very moment

So much more rambling under the cut!

Deirdre and Gale started off as respectful colleagues. He had his little ‘o wow a warlock huh’ and she had her little ‘yeah what of it wizard boy?’ Both incredibly polite about it of course. They gravitated to one another immediately because they are both well read and spoken and kinda looked at the rest of their companions like

So in actuality they buddied up and then got teased relentlessly for being like an old married couple when neither one of them was even in the realm of romantic attraction. Gale because…. Bomb In Chest. And Deirdre having an internal incredibly well hidden behind bardic shenanigans PTSD nightmare from the horrors she witnessed during her imprisonment in Menzoberranzan.

It was only when they started sharing their magic; the weave scene, and the pic above with Dede sharing some fey vibes, that they started to shift from platonic to romantic. I would say Gale fell a little harder and faster because he just seems like that kind of person to me? Like he knows all the reasons he shouldn’t and that kinda unconsciously eggs him on even more. I’d say the crisis with Mystra’s order thru Elminster pushed them both into taking the step of actually admitting feelings tho. Dede couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. Especially to himself.

As for the last two questions… yeah. Gale’s big grand gestures got them into a bit of hot water during and post game. His constant need to prove himself worried Deirdre a lot about his self worth beyond what he could do for her. She had to go through a lot of talks with him to let him know he was enough. Just him. As he was. No magic or pageantry even tho she loves that about him too.

And of course, Dede has a TON of intimacy issues. A lot was done to her without her consent thru her life. Tadpole being the most recent offense. So she doesn’t really like surprises and has a hard time letting people in. Which is funny considering how bright and bombastic her personality is. She uses it mainly to cover the hurt. Not to say she isn’t well adjusted. She spent many many years with her patron working thru the stuff the lolthsworn drow did to her. Tadpole just kinda inflamed the wound again.

So yeah! I think it was actually several years before he even proposed. And several more after that until they got married. But the wedding was HUGE. Her family is gigantic and they have a wide social circle with the folk of Waterdeep, and Baldur’s Gate, and the Druid Grove which they still frequently visited. Gale went above and beyond constructing a castle out of flowers just for the occasion (dedes Patron helped).

Thank u so much for the ask Harding! I love my gnome gal (and i luv urs too)

[mymegrokosmos]

B specifically asked not to be hurt but it's her bday weekend so instead of listening we are writing Yunho smut on this fine Friday evening. Anyway, uh yeah... best friend Yunho. 🔞

content : mentions of drinking, thigh riding, unprotected sex, slightly dubious consent, best friends Yunho and reader fooling around.

The evening started the way Thursdays typically did. You showed up at Yunho's cramped little excuse for an office, shared with the always courteous San and Seonghwa, to find him the only one working late. San was just packing up when you walked in, Wooyoung perched halfway on his desk chattering away as you offered them both a wave. You weaved your way past them, carefully avoiding Seonghwa's little shelf of lego creations, to drop down onto the corner of the desk Yunho typically had half covered in papers and miscellaneous stationary.

"Fancy meeting you here."

He glanced up from his grading, pen tapping against his bottom lip as he sat back with a sigh when he finished the page. "Hello stranger."

You smiled as he ran a hand through his already messy dark hair. It was always in disarray after these classes. His TA position stressing him out more this semester than it usually did. He was better at managing most of the time but his course load was heavy lately and he'd been staying later and later to finish marking and assignments. The balance wasn't exactly work life balancing and you had yet to see him actually sleep once this week.

He ran a hand over his face when you quirked a brow at him, glancing between him and the pile of papers on his desk. "When are these marks due in?"

"Tuesday."

"How many do you have left to get through?"

"Maybe twenty more? I should be able to finish a few more tonight and then run through the rest tomorrow. Then I can sit down and study for that Stats exam Sunday and help you with our presentation Monday."

"And are you planning on sleeping any time between now and then?"

He sighed. "y/n you know I'm doing my best here. I just don't have time."

You shook your head. "Finish that one and I'll borrow Hwa's or Sannie's desk space to sit down and get through more of our presentation. Then we can go back to mine, since Mingi is definitely not going to let you get any sleep tonight, and I'll help you with the rest of these tomorrow."

He blinked up at you. "You've already done like three quarters of the work on this presentation."

"So it won't be much more when I make up 85% and you have a fresh, functioning, brain to look over everything before the final draft Monday. Plus, you're my best bet at actually passing stats and if we're going to be studying all weekend we can at least get some rest in between. And I have plenty of caffeine."

He groaned. "Please do not even talk to me about caffeine right now."

His leg jiggled and you laughed. "On your fifth americano of the day or something are we?"

He shrugged and held up four fingers, biting his lip. You shook your head.

"I'm not even going to ask. Speedrun your marking, I'll be over there and then I'm buying you a drink on the way back to my apartment. If anyone deserves it, it's you. And maybe it'll counteract some of the blood in your caffeine system."

A laugh and then you both turned to set back about your own tasks.

You hummed softly as you worked, only glancing at the time once you'd finished the last section of the powerpoint. Yunho's fresh eyes would catch a ton of small details you'd missed but that was fine. It was why he was always the final run-through on these things. You cracked your back and stretched, pressing save and closing your laptop. You found Yunho pretty much exactly where you had left him.

He sat hunched over his desk, chin resting in one hand as a red pen tapped against one cheek while he poked his tongue into the other. He was so focused or lost in whatever train of thought he was currently jotting down in the margins of the paper he was nearly done that he didn't even start when you came over. You leaned back against the corner of Hwa's desk and watched. He adjusted the glasses on his face as he finished and you bit your lip as he cracked his neck.

"If you keep doing that one of these days you're going to break something important."

It always made you just a little nervous. He grinned, dropping the pen as both arms came up over his head in a stretch you could almost feel. He flopped back into his chair, legs spread, and adjusted the glasses that had begun slipping down over the bridge of his nose. You just sighed and dropped into his lap.

"Done for the night?"

His forehead dropped forward to rest against the back of your shoulder as you cleaned up his desk, hands resting on your thighs as his fingers drew abstract shapes on your jeans.

"Mhm, if I start another one right now I think my head might just explode."

You smiled and started shuffling his things into a pile. "Help me clean up and then we can leave. I have a bottle of soju or seven with your name on them in the fridge."

His little cheer was muffled against the back of your shirt as you both got up.

It didn't take long to walk to your building, your apartment wasn't far from the building all his classes were in this semester and Yunho's long legs forced you to walk a little faster than you would have alone. His presence did make the dark campus feel a little less foreboding so you stuck close as you headed inside and up to your unit.

He followed you in like he always did, at home here since he'd lived part time in your apartment before he and Mingi moved in together last fall. He was more than familiar. You dropped your things in the living room and headed to the kitchen to see what flavours of soju you had available. There was a selection.

It had maybe been a bad idea to suggest alcohol on an empty stomach.

You found yourself half naked, having lost a round of strip poker or two before the takeout arrived, leaning against Yunho's shoulder as you both burst into laughter for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour. The food was great and you shoved another bite into Yunho's mouth before he could launch into another story.

"Please shut up and eat your noodles before I suffocate. I think I broke a rib just now."

He chuckled, taking the chopsticks from you and scarfing down the rest of the container while you wiggled around trying to get your bones to sit right again. Your ribs and face hurt from laughing and you were pretty sure you'd cried off most of your mascara already. You took a deep breath.

"Why do I ever listen to you? You're so ridiculous, you know that?"

He grinned and you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted to his lips, lingering a little as you reached up to brush a bit of sauce from the corner. His breath hitched and you blinked up at your best friend.

"Okay?"

He nodded.

"Sorry, I should have asked first."

He shook his head, hand coming up to capture your wrist. You knew, in theory, that they were large but the ease with which his long fingers circled your wrist had you staring. This was new. Or was it?

You didn't think you were that tipsy.

"Hey Yun?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you pinch me please?"

He smirked. "I can think of something better."

You blinked. His face hovered closer, moving slowly. You didn't stop him. Then his lips were on yours and oh, you were so not dreaming. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, making you squeak into his mouth and he laughed as he pulled away.

"I can't believe we've never done that before."

You reached up to touch your lips, and then to pinch him.

He jumped. "Yah! Hey! You can just tell me if you didn't like it."

You smiled. "I did like it. I was just making sure I didn't black out and accidentally dream this."

He sighed. "No, we're both still awake. Was that really necessary?"

You shrugged and then you were leaning up to kiss him again. He tasted like soju, what was new there, and the strawberry chapstick Hwa had bought him for his birthday last month. His lips were soft and everything but gentle as they worked against yours. You lit up when his tongue parted your lips and plunged into your mouth, sighing against his lips.

He was a good kisser, you'd give him that. Your hands found his wide shoulders and you braced yourself as you climbed into his lap to get closer. Something about Yunho was just addictive and as long as he was good with where this was going, you didn't want to stop.

He was right, why had you never made out before? You'd definitely gotten drunk and tried other things together over the years. It should have been only natural that this was on the list of experimentation, you'd known him since high school after all, but kissing was just one of those things you'd never dared to initiate with Yunho before now.

His hands were everywhere and you found yourself whining into his mouth when they slid down to cup your ass. He squeezed and you rocked forward, gasping as he adjusted you like you weighed nothing. You let Yunho manhandle you, moving you from his lap to straddling one large thigh. You nipped at his jaw when he pressed your hips down, guiding them over his still jeans-clad leg.

"Yunho." You whined.

It was unfair that he was still so clothed while you sat there in just your underwear. It was a matching set at least but neither of you was really paying attention to that particular detail. You tugged on his shirt and he leaned back to watch you unbutton it, hand coming up to fold behind his head. His eyes were dark as they trailed over you and you could feel the heat pooling in your gut.

"Tell me to stop and we can."

You shook your head. "If you stop now I'm disowning you. Hongjoong is going to be my new best friend."

He laughed and leaned in to press kisses down your neck, humming softly against your skin as you finally managed to get him out of his shirt, shoving it off over his shoulders.

He pulled you back in, one hand on your waist guiding you to rock against his flexed thigh as the other came up to cup your breast. "Do you have any idea how pretty you are like this?"

You hummed. "A mess?"

He shrugged, the hand on your breast moving to unclip your bra in one smooth motion. "For me, yeah, that's hot."

"Mm, because you're the one making me desperate?"

He nodded, head dipping down to catch a nipple in his mouth. You gasped, hand tangling in his hair and he groaned as you tugged when his tongue flicked over your skin.

"You have no idea how desperate you make me. It's nice being the one with the upper hand for once."

Before you could ask what, exactly, he meant by that his hands and mouth busied themselves making it impossible to think. You gave in, only getting a minute to breathe when he flipped you around and pulled you back against his chest.

You leaned your head back, tilting your neck to give his lips better access while his fingers moved to trace your wetness over your panties. He bit down on your shoulder when you gasped, fingers trailing under the fabric to ghost over where you needed him the most. He groaned against your skin and you gasped when one finger slid inside you, slowly sinking up to the knuckle.

"Fuck."

"Mm, too much?"

You shook your head, hand grasping his wrist. "No. No, don't stop."

The chuckle against your neck had you shivering. "Oh, greedy tonight are we? My good girl wants another?"

You struggled to force your eyes open. "Please Yun, feels so good. Fill me up. Please."

He didn't ask again, sinking two more fingers knuckle deep as they continued to pump in and out at his pace. He worked you fast and didn't let up until you were shaking, clawing at his thighs and begging. You were pretty sure you'd started crying and you didn't care, the orgasm that swept over you was worth it.

When you caught your breath enough to whimper his name again he was already pulling out his cock, groaning as he adjusted you on his lap again, legs hooking underneath yours to keep you spread open for him.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you cum."

He was stroking himself with the hand that, moments ago, had been mostly inside you. You forced your thighs to cooperate a little longer as you turned to straddle him properly again, hips rocking as his tip slid along your slit, now slick with your own release. He moaned and you found yourself smirking.

Oh, so this was what he had been on about. It did feel good, seeing him such a mess for you, especially when you had barely done anything.

"Let me, please, don't need to be inside but can I...?"

His pathetic whines had you biting your lip and nodding. "Yes, yes Yun. Use me however you need."

You swear he almost came at those words, stopping to stare you dead in the eye and then he was guiding his length along your slit like a man possessed. He felt so good you let your eyes slide shut, hands anchored on his shoulders as you felt him slip inside.

"Mm... just the tip. Please y/n."

His begging nearly undid you. You nodded, hips rolling with his and then suddenly he was grasping you by both hips and slamming up into you. The size of him knocked the breath from your lungs and he groaned.

"Fuck, shit, sorry. Just felt so good. Couldn't help it."

You rocked your hips a little, testing the stretch, and his hips stuttered. You'd never seen him like this and fuck if it wasn't more than a little intoxicating. The breathy moans, the whines as he held himself still just long enough for you to adjust to the sheer length of him pressed fully inside you.

You both paused as he pressed a hand to your pelvis and you caught a glimpse of him bulging in your abdomen. You gasped, he groaned, and then you were being pressed down into the couch while he hovered over you.

"Please please let me do that again."

You guided his hand, back arching as he slammed into you. You watched as he traced his fingers over the outline, cursing under his breath, and whimpered when his pace suddenly went from manic to man on a mission. He was rutting into you so hard he had to hold your waist to keep you from sliding all the way up the length of the couch but neither of you noticed the way the sofa creaked beneath you with every snap of his hips.

By the time he pulled out, hand fisting his cock as he painted your stomach, you were already seeing stars again. You arched up against him, whining and moaning his name as your hand slid down to your clit, fingers working you through your climax while he caught his breath.

"Who knew all needed was to get railed?" You teased, when you glanced up and met his eyes.

He laughed, sweat dripping down his forehead as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. That set you off and then you were both shaking with laughter.

"At least let me clean you up before we make another mess."

[cer-rata]

Fic WIP: “No One Majored In Chemistry"

“...So yes, I’m going to figure out which one of you it was.” Billy growled into his phone as he dodged and weaved through the crowd of other excited freshmen.

Bruce sighed on the other end. “Are you really saying it’s impossible that you could have gotten into a good school without one of us meddling?”

“Gee, I dunno, acceptance and a full-ride scholarship to an ivy league school I didn’t apply to, with no active requirements to keep it up? Because of my AV experience? Room and board included? UPenn has a 6.5% acceptance rate, and again, I didn’t even apply, Bruce!”

A pause. “...It was Diana. Drop out, and she might actually cry.” Then he hung up, because of course he did. Billy groaned.

Fine. It was fine. Maybe superhero nepotism had gotten him into college, maybe that meant some other, more worthy kid didn’t get a shot. He had to balance that guilt with gratitude: Because someone clearly believed in him, and that meant a lot. Ugh, he couldn’t even yell at Diana about it, you can’t just yell at Diana! Why couldn’t it have been Ollie? Half of his job was giving people someone to yell at!

He was so frustrated that he pushed the door to his dorm open way harder than he intended, and it slammed against the wall, startling the boy who had apparently gotten there first. He spun on his heels away from the window where he’d been setting up some figurines and pointed a pair of accusatory finger-guns at Billy. He looked like a Scandinavian dude, with all of the trappings: Tall, broad shoulders, long shiny blond hair, blue eyes as sharp as Tim’s but somehow much less eerie to look at, probably because he wasn’t being possessed by the ghost of a Victorian street urchin.

“Oh! Oh, hey.” He pushed some hair out of his face and flashed Billy a bright smile.

“I recommend this one, Batson.” 

Billy paused. He didn’t recognize that voice, who was--Oh no. Oh no, Achilles never said anything unless he was asked a direct question, and even then--OH NO.

The guy cleared his throat. “Um…You’re Billy, right?”

Crap, I missed a dialogue cue! “Uh, yeah, yeah, sorry, weird…weird morning.” Billy quickly propped his suitcase against his bed and walked over to offer the guy a handshake, which was smoothly accepted. Billy wasn’t a little guy, 5”7 was perfectly average, but this guy--wait, what was his name?

“Yeah, totally, it’s been a weird morning. It’s nice to meet you, though! I’m Garth.”

Ah, okay. “Garth” had at least five inches on him, and that, combined with the length of the fingers and width of the palm that consumed his hand served to make average old Billy feel kind of small.

“Me…me too. Um. I mean, it’s nice to also meet you, not that I’m Garth. I don’t know you well enough to decide if I want to steal your identity yet.”

Garth let out a surprised giggle and raised an eyebrow. “...Well, I hope to prove that my credit score is worthy of being ravished.”

His smile made Billy’s eyes sting a little bit, but on a level he wondered if that was a product of every one of the degenerates in his mind (and maybe Solomon) trying to get a look at once.

“Aha, I guess we’ll see!”

Garth shook his head a little and smirked. Then his eyes flicked over to Billy’s bed. “Wait, is that your only bag?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I…don’t like having a ton of clothes.” It was kind of true.

Garth nodded. “Hmm. Fair enough. I’m a little bit of a…well…” He gestured to the pile of clothes on his bed. “...I like shirts.”

"Nothing wrong with that, you seem to be good at…wearing shirts.” What?

“What?”

“I dunno man, I haven’t had any coffee, the prompt was: 'Friendly compliment that is also not weird.'”

Garth laughed again and patted him on the shoulder, and it was at that moment that Billy realized that they’d just been standing in handshake range the entire time. He backed up in the direction of his bed a bit, and Garth took that as a cue to go back to unpacking while he talked. 

“I’m from Gotham, my standard for weird is a little warped.”

Billy sat on the edge of his bed and quietly lamented that his feet didn’t reach all the way to the floor. “Gotham is a wild place, yeah. Probably cursed.” Literally cursed, actually.

“Yeah, yeah there’s…yeah. But imma be real, I think Fawcett is much scarier.”

How does he know I’m from Fawcett?

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, that place is a Buzzfeed unsolved video waiting to happen, I mean there’s a reason the Big Red Goober hangs out there so often, right? Magic is spooky, man.”

Billy bit his cheek. “Ah, well, you may have a point, there have been a couple weird things over the years.”

Garth let the silence ride for a beat as he put some sweaters in his closet. “Hey so, big fan of your podcast, by the way.”

Billy chuckled nervously. “How…how do you know about that?”

“How many Billy Batsons can there be?”

“Honestly? A WEIRD number.”

Garth snorted and stretched slightly to get to the top shelf. Achilles noted that his shoulder-to-chest ratio was good for archery (and other things), and Billy tried his best to ignore him. “Either way, I figured you’d be a little more braggy about getting to interview superheroes, that’s kind of good for like, street cred and shit. But I guess being a bit of a shy little guy makes sense, all things considered.”

Billy was about to defend himself against the “little guy” accusations, but Garth turned around and made eye contact again, which derailed him long enough that he lost the window, and Garth continued on. 

“So, what’re you majoring in?”

“Mixed media, with a minor in journalism.” For some reason, Billy felt a little self-conscious whenever he told someone, like it was somehow unrealistic, when in reality it had been made abundantly clear to him that the concept of ‘unrealistic’ did not apply to a life like his.

Garth seemed to think it was cool, even. “Oh that’s great! Makes sense, you seem like the type to be good at all of that stuff.”

Billy fought to keep a blush down. “Ah, gee. Um, wh-what about you?”

“Pre-med and Screenwriting. Dual major.” 

Billy blinked a couple times. “Wow that--”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I kinda…I kinda applied to both departments and didn’t expect to get into either, so when I got into both I kind of panicked and accepted. So. You know. It’s…I’ll be fine, I’m used to juggling plates.” He brushed some hair out of his face and tucked it behind an ear, and for the first time in the fifteen minutes that Billy had known him, Garth looked a little nervous. Only for a moment though, then it was all smiles again. “Hey, that reminds me actually…”

Billy’s eyes widened as he watched the blond cross their room to sit right next to him on his bed. “Uh, wh--”

“How are we going to do this?”

“Do…what?”

“Oh, I do like it when they’re forward.” Zeus, please!

Garth leaned back on his hands.“I have two stressful majors, my mom has been in AA since before I was born, so no drinking, and I like people. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“Well, theater, medicine, Gotham, parental stress: You’re one rejection letter from turning into a Phantom of the Opera themed, organ-harvesting villain of the week?” Why did I say that!?

He could hear the smug satisfaction in Hermes' voice. “Just a little inspiration, for free. You’re welcome.” AHHHHHHH--

Garth laughed really hard at that one, and any cool vibe he was trying to foster was shattered by the way his cheeks went pink and he snorted. Billy could suddenly see the dork behind the symmetrical features and shiny hair.

“Fuck you! This just means you’re gonna be my first victim, Batson. That kidney?” Billy giggled and leaned away as Garth jabbed a finger right over where his kidney actually was. “Is mine.”

“This is good,” Achilles said, “Generally this is where I’d suggest pulling your shirt up, and enticing him with your wares, but that may be unwise as you’ve neglected your mortal body’s physical integrity, you disappointing, noodly-armed twink--”

“Hey!”

Garth raised an eyebrow and Billy realized with horror that he’d let that one escape.

“Uh--”

“Sorry, just…remembered…a thing--where were you going with that before you claimed my kidney?”

“Oh! Yeah right. So I’m gonna like…be busy, you know? ‘Everybody stares at me, boys, girls, I can't help it, baby--’”

“You did NOT just quote Rent--”

“It’s a good musical! What I’m asking is if you want to like, set up a schedule, or is there a codeword, or do I put a sock on the door, or…you know.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Billy wanted to die. For some reason. 

“Oh, uh. I mean yeah I guess you can just text me? But it’s not gonna be--”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m a considerate guy, I won’t screw you.”

“Wow, Batson, look at that, you’ve already taken yourself off of the table.”

“That’s not what he meant! Wait, shoot--”

“Who are you arguing with?” Garth asked casually.

Billy slowly turned to look back at him. “...Eheh, whaaaat? Sorry, just, my internal monologue sometimes--”

“It was Zeus, right? I know about the Ganymede thing, I figure I’m within his taste range.”

“He’s not wrong.”

A chill shot through Billy and he frowned. “...How do you--”

“Dami' wanted me to be prepared in the event of, and I quote, ‘Billy fucking up badly enough that you end up with a demon trying to crawl up your ass.’ End quote.”

Billy stared at him. 

“...When you say ‘Dami'--’”

“The stabbiest Christmas elf, yeah.”

Billy groaned. 

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

I'll find you always (but I'd rather go alone)

comfort came against my will - series masterlist coming soon

pairing: dick grayson x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.1k

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: established relationship, reader finding out dick is nightwing, reader is almost mugged but nothing actually happens, dick has big feelings and doesn't know how to handle them

a/n: I have a ton more written for this couple but let's just start here

It's while you're walking home late one night that it all comes out. You sigh as you weave through a back alley, knowing that Dick would be furious if he knew that, not only were you walking home alone after dark, but you're taking shortcuts through more dangerous parts of the city. But you're tired and you'd had a long day and you couldn't stand the thought of dealing with a creepy cabbie, so you decided to walk, slipping through side streets as all your thoughts swirled around wanting to be home.

But of course, it's not that simple. Of course, you're cornered by three guys who are incredibly interested in the contents of your bag. And… of course, you grew up the way you did, in Gotham of all places. You're not scared, you're just tired and fed up and want to go home.

You don't even have a chance to move, though, before Nightwing is dropping from a nearby roof and dispatching the men in front of you. You cross your arms and huff while you lean against the brick wall. You tilt your chin up as Nightwing stalks towards you and somewhere in the back of your brain, where your sensible self-preservation instincts are buried, an alarm bell rings. Nightwing is all power and presence and danger as he stands tall before you, close enough that you can see the way his muscles strain against his suit.  

You level your gaze with his, waiting for him to make the first move as he stares back at you - you've had your fair share of run-ins with vigilantes and you know that not all of them are as friendly as Batman and his crew. So you wait, holding yourself steady until Nightwing makes the first move.

"Are you hurt?" is all he asks. You arch a brow, his voice pinging some sort of recognition in your brain as you try to place where you've heard it before.

"Pretty sure you showed up before anything had a chance to happen, hm?" you quip back and notice the way his fists ball. Okay, you think. Not in the mood for banter.

"You should be more careful," he responds, and there's a levelness to his rage that reminds you of something but you just can't place it and -

"I'm as careful as I need to be," you snap back. "There are a lot of people in this city who need a guardian angel more than I do - you should go find one of them." So much for not provoking him.

He doesn't do anything, though. He's wound up, that much is clear; he's tense and angry and frustrated and you're not completely sure why or… why you know all of that about him. 

"I found you," is what he finally offers, softness seeping into his voice in a way that makes your stomach flip.

"Hm?" you respond, worried that if you speak, you'll break through the blanket of softness that enveloped you both.

"I found you. Always - I'll always find you. I'll always be here," it's the gentleness that does it, that clicks the last piece of the puzzle into place and forces a huff of breath out of your lungs.

"Is that so?" you murmur back. His hand unclenches and looks as if it's reaching for you for a moment before it falls back to his side and he steps back.

"Of course," he clears his throat. "I always will."

"And why's that?" you press, finally knowing what you're pressing for.

"I'm going to make sure you get home safely. Come on… other people are waiting for their guardian angel," he says, stiff as a board as he closes up. You cock your head to the side.

"Go on then," you prompt. "I can get myself home."

"And I'll make sure of it. Come on."

"No," you shrug. "I'd rather go alone."

"I'm trying to keep you safe." There it is, that dangerous, angry edge seeping back into his voice. You recognize it so clearly this time around.

"And I said no," you push. "I don't need protecting, and you can't save someone that doesn't want to be saved."

"Sometimes when people refuse it is when they need it the most," he growls back, fists balling again. You scoff and cross your arms, slouching against the alley wall.

"Dick saviour complex Grayson, huh. You never let it go, do you?"

Time sort of just… stands still after that. Dick stands before you frozen and your heart melts a little, knowing how rare it is for him to be caught like this and how he must be reeling right now.

"Come on," you say gently as you push yourself off the wall and start walking down the alley. "You were gonna walk me home, right?" He doesn't respond, but you hear his footsteps ever so slightly following behind you, and wonder if he's doing it intentionally so that he doesn't spook you, or if you've done enough spooking and he's still in shock. You glance behind you, but his mask keeps so much from you. You sigh, then, halting as you wait for him to catch up.

"Hey…" you say gently when he stands in front of you, anxious in a way you've never seen him before. "You ok?"

"How long have you known?" he asks quietly.

"About… three minutes I think," you respond lightly. His eyes snap to your and he huffs out a laugh.

"Oh…" he says. "Oh, that's not so bad." you laugh and take his hand, pulling him further out of the alley.

"No, it's really not, is it? Your teasing is gentle. "Now come on, Nightwing, you promised to make sure I get home safe. We can talk about this later, okay? But - you should know… it's okay. It's all okay." He stops walking, then, pulling your arm gently so that you swing around and face him.

"Really?" he prods gently.

"Really," you assure. "I mean… if I had a problem with vigilantes I wouldn't be here, right? And I did, uh… have some suspicions that you hadn't quite retired after Robin"

"Yea," Dick laughs. "I guess that was bound to happen. But, you're right, we can talk later. Come on, now - I promised to get you home safe." you smile up at him, letting him keep your hand firmly in his as you walk side by side.

"Oh," he continues. "And don't think for a second this means I've forgotten about you being out here alone late at night. We're gonna be talking about that, too." You groan and he laughs, pulling you into him to press a kiss to your forehead.