#and i think i will but it's so hard. watching him not be able to

[heavenorhella2001]

This had never occurred to me way back when when I first watched playthroughs of the game/played it myself, but;

Seeing this post made me remember Max's meltdown, when she was trapped in her own mind/a broken version of reality.

And seeing this now?

Max definitely has PTSD.

Everyone always primarily discusses/ focuses on Chloe's trauma (which is understandable. I'll always be a Chloe defender and don't want to downplay her trauma by any means.)

But, unfortunately, Max's is overlooked.

Now, a lot of people might view this skeptically, question the idea of Max having PTSD. To many, it might seem like Max doesn't really have any lasting form of major trauma after the events of the game. Maybe she really was content and at peace and happy-go-lucky. (I've always scoffed at that scene at Chloe's funeral, when Max smiles at the butterfly.) And I'll admit, within the context of the story maybe we aren't supposed to think so. But if that's the case I just have to assume that's due to the developing team's lack of knowledge, experience with mental health and how it works, the impact things like this have on someone. Not that they are coming from a malicious place, of course. But very rarely does a person 'get it' unless they've been through it themselves. The average person simply won't understand.

But if you see everything I've described here as it's laid out, it makes total sense;

Let's talk about Jefferson. He is just one of many elements in the game contributing to Max's trauma. He was her teacher, someone she looked up to, respected, and was supposed to be able to trust. She truly felt safe around him. It's implied she had a crush on him. But her image of him completely shattered. After the truth about him was revealed, she was no longer able to trust her own judgement of people, her perception of reality.

He drugged her when she was vulnerable, and she was helpless to watch as he shot and killed the love of her life right in front of her. He kidnapped her, and she was thrown from the frying pan right into the fire. When she woke up she was tied up in a basement, helpless, and he had burned all her photos. Not only precious memories, but also one of her only means of going back and fixing things. He then took photos of her, over and over, this went on for who knows how long, while she was drugged, tied up and helpless, in order to satisfy his own perversions. Throughout, he mocked and tormented her.

Then, let's go into what happened with Chloe. Having to watch her best friend, the girl she loved, die over and over and over again. Max felt responsible for fixing it, preventing it, because she was the only one who possibly could. She would blame herself, think of it as a failure on her part each time Chloe died.

After watching her die in various ways, so many times, I'm sure Max questioned if she really even could save Chloe- or if Chloe was supposed to die from the start, and the universe was determined to restore the balance, no matter what Max did or how hard she tried.

And then there's Kate. This could go one of two ways depending on your choices, one of which is infinitely worse and more traumatizing, but either way it would definitely have haunted Max and left an impact on her.

Imagine how you would feel, knowing one of your closest friends was being bullied. Knowing they have been drunk/drugged and taken advantage of at a party. Yet instead of anyone coming forward, doing the right thing and helping Kate out of that situation, everyone at the party instead weaponized it, used it against her, slut-shamed her even though she wasn't in her right mind, was barely even conscious and was in no way able to consent to anything that was happening. Not that slut-shaming her would have in any way been okay or excusable even if Kate was acting of her own volition. Knowing that, even though you don't agree/don't identify with that, that your friend is deeply religious and clings to faith as a means of comfort. Knowing that she feels like a failure, that she feels like she's betrayed her faith, everything she stands for, and her family, even though she was in fact a victim in her situation. Being able to read letters, watching her family victim-blame her, hide behind their beliefs as a means to tear down someone they should feel obligated to protect, to support. Watching your friend be alienated by everyone around her, including her own family. Watching the school bullies write obscenities about your friend on the walls, and in the bathroom, make jabs at her and taunt her at every possible opportunity. Your friend's light has begun to dim, she starts pulling away from you, begins hiding away in her room more, which now feels like a dark, oppresive void. You know your friend is depressed, and you're trying to be supportive in any way you can, but there's a distance building between you you feel you can't bridge.

Then it happens. She kills herself/tries to kill herself. In front of you, and everyone who tormented her. Even then, the people who hurt her have no shame, laughing and recording her when she's in crisis. You begin to question and blame yourself, blaming youself for not noticing something was severely wrong earlier, not recognizing the impending signs for what they were. You want to help your friend, to save her, but your powers at failing you at the worst possible time. You only get one chance to do this, like everyone else, and you have to do it the right way.

If Max managed to talk Kate down, that's still an instense emotional weight, still a serious event to work through and process.

If Kate jumps…well…

Max feels like a failure. Like she contributed to Kate's death just as much as everyone else. Like she may as well have pushed Kate off that ledge herself. Not only watching your friend die in front of you, but knowing that it was self-inflicted in a moment of desperation, that they chose to do so and your words had no effect…

Now, the end of the game. Depending on what you choose, Max either has to to feel an immeasurable weight on her conscience, the responsibility for the destruction of the town where she was born. Where she grew up. Where she has countless memories, despite its' faults. The deaths of almost everyone there she's ever known.

Including (especially) Joyce.

The guilt of feeling like she took Chloe's mom away from her too, after Chloe had already lost her dad.

Oh. And that reminds me.

It was an incredible miracle, Max discovering her ability to go back through time via photos. Being able to go back 5 years, to when she and Chloe were only 13, before all the horror had happened, and save William. The sense of sheer relief, happiness and accomplishment she felt. She felt like a hero.

Only for it to all blow up in her face in the worst possible way.

Seeing Chloe, now a total shell of her former self. Completely disabled, and paralyzed. Helpless. Unable to live on her own. Seeing firsthand the emotional and financial stress William and Joyce are going through as a result of the accident. Chloe having so little quality of life that she pleads with Max to kill her, because she can't even do it herself.

(This is not my narrative or opinion on Chloe's situation, by the way. This is how it's portrayed. Quality of life, determining whether your life is worth living to due a life-changing accident or consequent disability is the choice of the invidual whom it effects. I'm not saying that anyone in Chloe's situation, who is paralyzed would inherently have no quality of life or no reason to live. That really depends on the invidiual, what that person needs in order to truly live and thrive, whether that person has family and friends and an emotional/practical support system in their life, etc. For Chloe, for me, and for many other people, though not all, living that kind of life would not be worth it.)

Max, depending on your choices, having to kill Chloe, to choose the merciful path, allow Chloe to exercise her autonomy in a world in which she can no longer do so and put her out of her misery. Knowing that she's doing for Chloe what she'd want someone to do for her if she were in that situation, yet still full of pain and regrets.

Max then having to go back and undo it all. Allow William to die again. Watch Chloe experience that horror and trauma again, knowing now she could've prevented it. But at what cost?

Lastly, if you chose to let Chloe go. To let her die.

That makes it immeasurably worse in my opinion.

The week she and Chloe spent together, reconnecting and rebulding their friendship, everything they went through together, would essentially never have happened.

Chloe, in this timeline, died alone in a bathroom. She never recieved any sort of closure, never got to know what happened to Rachel, questioning if Rachel perhaps just abandoned her, similarly to how Max did.

She never got to resolve things with Max, never heard from her again. She never got to know that Max still loved her, still cared about her and thought of her, but was too scared and guilty to reach out.

She never got to patch up things with her mom, or with David.

Everything Max went through. Everything she experienced.

To recap:

Having to watch her best friend, the woman she loves, die over and over again, feeling helpless, trapped in this endless, hellish cycle of death.

Being lulled into a false sense of security, betrayed and abducted by someone she thought she could trust, someone she looked up to.

Witnessing firsthand Kate's suicide/attempt, feeling like she failed her.

Being forced to let William die again, and force Joyce and Chloe to suffer that loss again.

Having to watch Joyce mourn her only daughter, after already losing her husband. Knowing she could've prevented it.

Everything that happened would still exist, but only in Max's mind.

She has no one she could ever confide in, talk to, or open up about it.

Chloe, for her, was that person.

No one would believe her, albeit understandably.

It's implied her powers vanish after she goes back that final time to let Chloe die.

She'd have no way to prove her story was true.

Carrying the weight of that burden, that knowledge and trauma, alone, would drive anyone insane.

Feeling like everything she went through, all the efforts she made to keep Chloe alive, were pointless.

I don't believe there is any way Max could be okay after that.

She'd be a hollow shell, just going through the motions. Totally disconnected from the world and the people around her. (Understandably. Who the hell could she connect to? Who would understand her?) Everyone at Blackwell, and their student lives and petty drama would feel so insignificant. So incredibly stupid and shallow to Max after what she's been through.

In fact, I've always felt - years after the events of the game, were you to choose to let Chloe die - that Max likely killed herself.

Over time, she probably began to question herself, to feel crazy, and begin wondering whether any of what happened, actually did, or if it was just something her mind created.

Max's trauma, her thoughts and emotions in regards to all of this are reflected in this part of the game, her mental breakdown. You can see her self-loathing, the way she blames and criticizes herself, in her interactions with herself and in her distorted journal entries.

Anyway. I never really liked Max all that much as a protagonist.

I thought she was a pushover, a little shallow, cared too much about what people like Victoria thought of her. I thought it was pretty unforgivable the way she ghosted Chloe, at the most traumatic, formative time of Chloe's life, when she had just lost the most important person in her life, besides Max. I understand anxiety, feeling awkward, helpless and flailing in that situation and not knowing what to say or do to make it better, but it just doesn't matter to me. Nothing excuses that.

However…

Max, did ultimately (well, depending on your choice at the ending,) make it right.

This has given me some perspective, and I have a lot more empathy for her now.

     you thought you could control everybody and everything, huh?      —   twist time around your fingers?

[hismercytomyjustice]

Ngl I really enjoyed Via’s arc in Sinsmas. She is just SO MUCH like her father that it both delights and hurts me lol.

Their relationship is an interesting take on struggling to try to break the cycle of abuse/neglect.

Stolas grew up with his father not even knowing his name or showing him a shred of affection. He was a means to an end, a tool. The only way he’s ever received any kind of acknowledgement from his father is by doing his duty. Mastering his powers, entering into an arranged marriage, and producing an heir.

You can just so clearly see how he is trying SO HARD to give Via a different life. He wants them to be a family. For her to never doubt her parents love her. To be the father he never had.

To the point he shoves his own wants and needs so far down that he is barely holding on.

Via going from accusing him of not loving her to realizing that he loves her so much that he forced himself to play the role of a good father and husband. To the point he destroyed himself for her…

And that realization just devastates her.

Stolas getting involved with Blitz was the culmination of decades of forcing himself to be the person everyone else expected him to be. He feels he can’t be loved, but he can be useful. And maybe if he’s useful enough, people will care about him.

The reason his connection with Blitz is so strong is because both of them feel that way. The difference is that Blitz was able to create his own found family (tho it took him ages to realize it lol) while Stolas has always been alone. They’re two sides of the same coin. And while Blitz has spent the past few years healing, Stolas has been descending further into darkness because he doesn’t have that same support.

Via has absorbed so many of his insecurities. Especially the fear of not being loved or wanted despite Stolas trying SO HARD to be the perfect father to her. But he’s not. He can never be because he forgot the old adage of “put your oxygen mask on first before helping anyone else.”

I think that definitely can come across as him being neglectful of her. But to me it speaks to his desperation to be such a good father to her that he tries to hold himself to IMPOSSIBLE standards.

He doesn’t fail Via because he doesn’t care. He fails her because he keeps setting up these unrealistic expectations for their relationship. He massively overextends himself and puts his own wants and desires on the back burner so often that his life is imploding around him out of his control.

He doesn’t miss the stars with her because he doesn’t care. He misses them because he’s struggling to put his life back together after finally taking some initiative for himself. He’s trying to deal with the fallout of wanting a divorce from Stella, but he’s waited so long and he’s so overwhelmed by it all that the date slips his mind. And the instant he realizes what’s happened, he drops everything and goes looking for her.

Via keeps watching him make these promises he struggles with or fails to keep and doesn’t realize until she finds all of the happy pills how much he’s overextended himself for her sake. And because she’s her father’s daughter, she immediately thinks she’s at fault. She thinks he would be happier if he hadn’t forced himself to play house all these years for her sake.

She’s not wrong. If he’d separated from Stella years before, they’d probably all be better off. But he didn’t because of his sense of duty. Stolas’s problem is that he never advocates for himself until he reaches his literal breaking point. By then, the damage is more of a tsunami than a ripple because now his meticulously crafted house of cards is falling down around him faster than he can pick up the pieces.

Via is right that he would have been happier, but not for the reasons she thinks. He did it because he loved her, not out of obligation for her. And also because he is deeply broken and flawed.

Via’s dealing with a lot of complicated emotions too. Her father was willing to sacrifice himself for his affair partner, which she initially believes means he’s picking Blitz over her. But really it’s just Stolas trying to save the only other person in his life who understands him and who maybe cares about him.

How could he live with himself if he let Blitz die?

And it’s not like Stolas has time to sit down and think of a rational plan. He rushes to the trial because Blitz is literally about to be decapitated. And then he saves him the only way he knows how. I think part of him was also convinced that, as much as he loves Via, she might actually be better off without him because he is a wreck. He’s convinced he’s ruined his life and the lives of everyone around him.

I think this is why he doesn’t fight Stella much for custody of Via. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he genuinely thinks Stella is a more stable parent than he is and that Via will be better off with her as a result. The man also lacks a backbone too tho because his self worth is -9000.

But then Stolas doesn’t get executed. And the consequences of his actions hit him like a ton of bricks once the adrenaline and panic wears off. He saved Blitz, but at what cost? And, based on his statement in Sinsmas, it sounds like he would’ve done it all over again if given the chance. Because he’s the one who let Blitz use his grimoire even though he knew it was wrong. Because Blitz was in danger of dying because of him. And because he has a very strong sense of morality and justice too.

Dying in Blitzo’s place was a spur of the moment decision and once the dust cleared, Stolas realized how everything he’s tried to do to keep his shit together has fallen apart at the seams and now everyone knows it.

All Via can see when she looks at him now is that he’s hit rock bottom because of her. Again, not true. But Stolas has tried so hard to give her this idyllic family life, thinking that was the best thing he could do for her. Not realizing that she could see the cracks forming. She just didn’t understand why there were cracks until now.

I don’t think Via actually hates him. I think she hates herself. Convinced she’s the reason he’s hit rock bottom. Why couldn’t she see how much he was suffering? Why would he suffer so much for her? So she’s taking herself out of the equation, just like he tried to with Blitz. If she’s not in his life anymore, maybe he’ll stop killing himself to try to make her happy. Maybe he’ll stop being so miserable.

I think a big part of their arc together has been her going from thinking of Stolas as this perfect and larger than life figure to seeing him start to crumble and now getting a peek behind the curtain and realizing how much of that wasn’t real. And it scares and upsets her that her dad isn’t the perfect person he’s tried to be for her. He’s broken and hurting and she doesn’t know what to do to help because he’s spent her whole life focusing on her.

Not to say that he’s done that well. He genuinely hasn’t. He’s overcorrected so hard that he’s fucked her up in a completely different way because he’s overextended himself. He pushed himself until the illusion of a perfect happy family cracked along with him. He’s also made it difficult for her to know how to help him because he’s sheltered her so much.

I think this sometimes makes Stolas come across as selfish. He seemingly “ruined” his marriage and his relationship with his daughter for Blitz. But really it was just the pendulum swinging wildly in the opposite direction. He was so starved for happiness and connection that now he’s trying to live two separate lives and it’s just not possible and he’s falling apart even faster.

Stolas was so desperate for affection and to be of use that he lets Blitz have his grimoire, under the impression Blitz is attracted to him because Blitz literally tried to seduce him to get it. He also does all of the dirty talk because he thinks Blitz likes it.

I think he initially sets the terms for the grimoire usage because he thinks it’s a price Blitz is more than willing to pay because he showed up trying to seduce him. I think he l also just really wants an excuse to see/spend time with Blitz too. It doesn’t even cross his mind that Blitz might want anything other than sex from him. He’s once again playing a role based on what he thinks is expected of him.

It’s not until Stolas discovers he’s starting to develop feelings for Blitz that he realizes their arrangement is wrong. And the moment he realizes it, he immediately tries to make amends. He hopes Blitz will admit he has feelings for him too, but is willing to step away if not. But he also cares about him so much, he makes sure to give him the Asmodean Crystal so he can freely make the choice.

Meanwhile he has no idea Blitz will just view this as another person trying to abandon him or look down on him. Because Blitz struggles with self worth too and believes the only way people will care about him is if he can be useful. Blitz has a deep seated fear of abandonment while Stolas fears no one could ever love him just for himself. He offers Blitz the crystal to let him know his feelings are genuine and to gauge Blitz’s too.

All of this is to say that I think Via and Stolas will reconcile, hopefully sooner rather than later. I think Via needs some time to process who her father actually is vs who she thought he was. And both of them need to be able to forgive themselves/grant themselves some grace so they can finally meet each other in the middle like Stolas has finally managed with Blitz. Stolas needs to accept Via is grown up now and he can’t shield her from the negatives of the world forever. Meanwhile Via needs to understand everything doesn’t have to be so black and white.

[penkura]

Holly Jolly Christmas

Summary: Your first Christmas with the Heart Pirates leads you out on deck for a few moments alone, only to be joined by your captain making sure you're okay.

Note: Just wanted to write something like this, Reader needing to step away to get their feelings in check and Law being willing to listen. :) Again, SORRY IT'S SO LATE. I went to see Sonic 3 this morning after church and it threw my whole day off. (:

“Oh come on, stay inside with us! It’s chilly out there!”

“I’ll be fine, Ikkaku, I just need some air!”

She rolls her eyes at you but doesn’t fight, instead being pulled away by Shachi for a dance while you laugh and step outside to the deck of the Polar Tang, taking a breath and feeling at ease. The holiday party your crewmates were throwing was starting to overwhelm you, a small break is all you need, some fresh air and the chance to collect yourself. It’s still hard to believe this is your life sometimes, that you’re a member of this crew and have friends that care about you, including a captain that wants you to stay safe. People who like and want you around, it’s so different from before.

Your first year with the Heart Pirates was coming to an end, right at Christmas time too. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think a pirate captain would request you to join them after seeing you protect yourself from some robbers on your home island, you just wanted to be able to eat that night and keep your hard-earned money from them. Apparently it was enough that day to convince Law you would be a good addition to his crew, for some reason you felt like you couldn’t say no even though he didn’t scare you or anything. It felt like something told you that day to go, not like you had anyone to return to at home anyway. Most people on your home island tolerates you enough to pay you for small jobs, but no one cared when you left, you’re sure of that.

It didn’t matter though, once you were introduced to everyone, they all took a quick liking to you and showed you the ropes, taught you how the ship worked and everything you’d need to know for life as a Heart Pirate. You learned everything as quickly as you could, you didn’t want to be seen and burden or dead weight on the crew, and not one of your new friends thought that about you, they all gave Law good reports when they’d help you with anything.

You’re grateful for everything that’s happened the last year, watching your crewmates have fun tonight and enjoy themselves. It’s really like having a family again.

“There a reason you’re out here alone?”

Hearing Law’s voice just makes you smile at him over your shoulder, before he joins you leaning against the railing. Of course he’d find you, he’s very good at that lately. Sometimes it feels like he's actively seeking you out, though that could just be wishful thinking.

“I just needed some air, captain.”

“You don’t have to call me that when it’s just us, I’ve told you that,” Law rolls his eyes while you giggle at him, “Doing okay?”

You nod with a small hum, you know he won’t press too hard to find out what’s going on, he already knows everything about you. Law never pushed but always listened when you wanted to talk about your previous life, when he noticed you weren’t doing well one day and it ended in you sobbing in his arms for hours about your lost family. He was awkward about it but didn’t make you leave until you were calm again, it made him realize there was more that you hadn’t told him at that point.

You two were more alike than Law ever expected when he brought you on.

“I need to thank you, Law,” he looks over to you with furrowed brows, but you’re not even looking at him, “If you all hadn’t shown up last year, I probably—”

“Enough, you don’t have to thank me again.”

You laugh with a nod as Law rolls his eyes once again, before you reach over and hug him. It’s taken some time but you’ve gotten Law used to these random hugs, he’s even started returning them like he does now.

“Still though, I’m grateful…getting to know all of you and feel like I belong somewhere again…thank you for saving me, captain.”

“…we’re all glad to have you here.”

You both stay like that for a while, even though it’s cold out and you know Law will want you inside shortly to get warm again.  But these moments with just the two of you are rare, some people would question your relationship if it’s just captain and subordinate or something else there, but you’re happy with where the two of you are.

“All right, you lovebirds, everyone’s waiting for you to do Secret Santa already!”

The two of you almost up away from each other, Law giving Penguin a glare while you look away, your older crewmate having a smirk on his face.

“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry. But really, come on! Everyone wants to open gifts!”

“Fine,” Law sighs, waving Penguin and keeping a hand on your shoulder, “We’ll be there in a moment.”

“Sure thing, cap!”

Penguin runs off to get everyone ready, leaving you and Law alone against. He’s obviously annoyed but it makes you smile anyway. It might be more than either of you are ready for, but you grab his hand and starts walking back into the Polar Tang.

“Better not keep everyone waiting, right, Law?”

“Yeah…guess so…”

You’ll tease him about the light blush on his face later, but tonight, you’ll keep the smile he gives you later on to yourself, and the fact you were his Secret Santa will be your personal secret until Law questions you about it.

You’re the only one who could’ve given him those coins from your home island anyway.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Merry Christmas, Little Dove

18+. Minors, Do Not Interact

Summary: You and Joel celebrate your Christmas tradition. OR Joel fucks you in front of the Christmas tree.

WC: 3.7k of straight filth

AN: this is not proofread or beta read, so just take it like the good girl you are 😉 Headers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

TW: multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names, unprotected P-in-V (relax they’re both in their 40’s and in a long term relationship), one single slap, two drops of spit, oral (both ways), mentions of alcohol consumption

Main Masterlist || More of Joel & Little Dove

You watch the way his soft, dark green t-shirt stretches against his muscle-lined back as he places the gifts under the tree. The house is quiet, and both your daughters are asleep in their childhood bedrooms. The living room is basked in the warm glow of only the tree and electric fireplace. Joel is meticulously putting presents out, completely focused on his role as Santa Claus. This is one of the things you love most about your partner. He might have this tough, grumpy exterior, but he’s never been afraid to exude the Christmas spirit. When Ellie and Sarah were young, he would spend hours driving from store to store to find exactly what they wanted. He’d stayed up all night once building Sarah’s Barbie dream house and Ellie’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pizza parlour so they’d be surprised in the morning.

You smile to yourself over the years and years of memories in this room, and the smile is bigger knowing your college-aged daughters still want to come home for Christmas with mom and dad. You tiptoe over to the record player, putting on Joel’s favourite Frank Sinatra Christmas vinyl. As the soft tones of ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ filter from the speakers Joel stands and turns to face you.

“Hi, baby. Where’s the girls?”

“I think someone got a little heavy-handed with the whiskey in the hot toddies,” you say with a raise of an eyebrow. He smirks, closing the distance between the two of you as he pulls you in to slow dance with him. “You might have two hungover daughters tomorrow morning.”

Your body meets his and need floods your system almost immediately. He smells like cedar and whiskey, his large palm rests on your lower back and you sway along with him.

“I’ll make them an Irish coffee tomorrow and they’ll be good as new. Besides, you and I wouldn’t be able to do our Christmas tradition if they were awake.”

“Joel Miller,” you say with a shocked laugh. “Did you do this on purpose?”

“Perhaps,” he smirks down at you, his dimple on full display as his eyes darken with arousal.

“Devious,” you whisper before his lips sponge against yours. Truthfully, it’s been years since the two of you did your actual Christmas tradition. When the girls were younger, after all the gifts were under the tree and the cookies were eaten, Joel would turn out all the lights and then strip you bare in front of the tree and fuck you softly. But when the girls became teens it was too risky to just fuck out in the open like that.

Joel’s hands come to your waist pulling at the black shirt you have tucked into your high-waisted jeans. You squeak as he pulls. “What kind of witchcraft is this?” He jokes between kisses when the shirt doesn’t come out.

You giggle against his mouth, “It’s a bodysuit.”

“Mmm, with the little snaps where my Christmas present is?” His voice is lower and more seductive now.

“Yes, sir.” You say, the shift in the air between you two makes it hard to breathe.

Joel makes slow work of the button and the zipper on your jeans before lowering you to the ground. The slow sounds of Frank Sinatra are somewhere in the background, but at this moment all you can see, hear and feel is your beautiful partner above you, kissing anywhere he can reach.

He raises on his knees and tugs your jeans off, guiding your feet to fall on each side of him, then pulls his shirt over his head. The glow of the tree turns his body into a work of art. The dips of his muscles along his chest and shoulders are darker, making him look bigger than he is. Your hands reach towards the button of his jeans but he grabs your wrists to stop you.

“Not yet, little dove,” Joel’s voice is a scratchy whisper as he leans forward, pinning your hands above your head. “Stay like this for me, ok?”

You nod and hum out an agreeable sound before he sits back up, his warm, rough fingers trailing along your covered arms, breasts, and stomach as he comes to rest on his heels. Your breaths quicken at the sight of him and then stop altogether as he runs a finger along the gusset of your body suit.

“Gods you’re so beautiful, baby.” He whispers it like a hymn like you’re the deity he prays to, and you know you’re about to be worshipped.

“I need you,” you moan, clenching your fists to stay in his desired position.

“Do ya now?” Joel smiles softly, his finger grazing at your clit through your clothing. “Tell me what you want.”

“Take the rest of my clothes off and fuck me all slow and gentle until I come and then fill me up.” It’s a whispered request.

His finger hooks through the bodysuit and you gasp, then grind your hips to try to get him to touch you where you need it most. His eyes widen and the feel of your soaked pussy along the back of his knuckle. “Did you attend our wholesome Christmas Eve family dinner without any panties on, little dove?”

You bite down on your bottom lip as your cheeks flush pink. “Yes.”

With the flick of his finger the snaps on your bodysuit open. “Naughty girl.”

You lift your hips so he can slide the body suit up, which he does until your lacy red bra is exposed, but he’s much too preoccupied looking at your completely bare pussy. “Something looks different here,” he says with an eyebrow raised.

You feel shy all of a sudden, butterflies bursting in your stomach. When the two of you were in your twenties this was standard, but as you both got older you started leaving more hair. Joel never complained, now you’re worried he doesn’t like it.

“I got it waxed for you.”

He licks his lips before looking up at you. “Little dove, you know you don’t have to do that, right? I love your pussy just as much when it isn’t shaved.”

“I know,” you say, bringing your knees together nervously.

“Whoa, not so fast,” his hands come to your knees, pressing them apart. “I just want you to know that before I go down and don’t come up. Because this was my plan either way. I’m going to lick your perfect pussy until you pry me off. And then I’m going to fuck you so slowly, and only when you’re begging for it am I going slam into you until you come.”

The silence between you is thick with arousal before you croak, “Colour system?”

Joel lowers his body to the ground. His warm breath hits your soaked cunt as he speaks. “Yes, little dove. What do you say if you want to stop?”

“Red,” your hips lift closer to his mouth, and he presses down against your hips with one of his forearms and tuts at you.

“And if you need a break or for me to slow down?”

“Yellow,” you whine.

He slides his forearm to the side, placing his warm hand on your mount and pulls back slightly to expose your clit. “Look at you, little dove. So wet and perfect. Give me a colour.”

Goosebumps break out across your skin and you sink into the floor, wholly submitting to Joel as you whisper, “Green.”

Joel’s lips come to your center kissing your clit lightly before he dives in. Licking long hot lines from the bottom of your pussy to the top. Your hands fly to hair, carding through the girls and he groans at the slight pain in his scalp as you tug.

“Oh god, fuckfuck,” you chant out along with his name as he pulls a quick orgasm out of you almost immediately.

“Already, little dove?” He asks, smirking between licks.

“You feel so good. Joel.”

He continues to taste you, now focusing just on your clit with the flat of his tongue. He applies just the right amount of pressure and circles your sensitive bud slowly. You arch your back off the floor as a tingling pleasure starts to build.

“I’m gonna come again, baby.” You gasp, keeping your voice low even though you want to scream.

He keeps doing exactly as he has been, knowing you’re loving it and soon you fall apart for him again. The waves of this orgasm are stronger and you try to squirm out of his grasp as you come down from high.

“Too much. S’too much,” it’s almost a cry.

Joel pins your hips down again, and with his broad shoulders between your legs you can’t close them. “One more, little dove. You can give me one more.”

“No, please. Fuck me now. I can’t.” You’re practically panting and the mixture of the pleasure and the hot totty from earlier has your skin on fire.

His free hand comes between your legs. He gathers your arousal with his ring and middle fingers, effectively turning you into a writhing, moaning mess before slipping his fingers deep inside you and sucking your puffy clit between his lips.

You slide your feet closer to your body and try to squeeze your thigh shut. It’s no use, you could clamp Joel’s head between them like an MMA fighter but that wouldn’t stop him and you know it.

“Relax,” he murmurs before suckling on your clit again.

“Fuck me, god. So good.” You’re sure that’s what you say but at this point, you can barely form a thought.

He taps his finger along the front wall a few times before hooking them forward. Pleasure overwhelms you and you go boneless. Your knees fall open, your hands all from his hair and your eyes shut. This is how Joel likes you. Pliable. Agreeable. Completely his.

“There’s my pretty little dove,” he admires and flicks his wrist up and down to taunt your g spot while sucking harder on your clit.

Pressure builds at the base of your spine and you mumble how good it feels. It takes all the strength you can muster but you get yourself up on your elbows to push Joel’s finger in deeper and within seconds the pressure snaps and every fiber of your being is lit ablaze as you come for a third.

“Joel, fuuuuuck. Yes, mmmmm, oh god.”

He lets out a quiet, devious laugh and it vibrates against your pussy, causing another strong wave of your orgasm to flood your system. You need him to stop but never want him to stop at the same time. Your hips grind on their own as you come down. Joel knows your body better than anyone so he stops moving; just keeps his finger crooked forward and his tongue pressed to your clit and lets you take what you need.

The whimper that leaves your lips as you slow your hips is his cue to stop teasing your clit. He pulls back and whispers up at you.

“You’re so beautiful when you fall apart like that. My naughty little dove. Right in front of Santa Claus and everything, hmm?”

“Fuck me, Joel. Please. I need to feel you inside me.”

He slips his fingers out slowly as he crawls up your body. His wet fingers come to your lips.

“Suck,” he commands, “But don’t swallow.”

Eagerly you suck his fingers into your mouth, lapping up your heady sweetness and letting it rest on your tongue. Joel slips his fingers from your lips and kisses you, ducking your tongue into his mouth and swallowing your arousal. You both moan in tandem, and as if his kiss has put you under some sort of spell you’re on the verge of coming again at just the feel of his strong body on top of yours. He breaks the kiss and then winces.

You stifle a laugh, “I guess we aren’t in our twenties anymore, are we?”

“No,” he huffs. “But that’s not going to stop me from fucking you on the floor tonight.”

You scratch your fingers through his soft, short beard. Admiring the way it’s more grey than just a few months ago.

“Why don’t you let me get on top, sir.” You soften your expression and bat your eyelashes, knowing he’s usually powerless under your puppy dog eyes.

He shifts his weight above you to his other knee; the left one, and you know that because it’s the one that bothers him less.

“You gonna listen when you’re up there?” His eyes darken as he says it. You aren’t sure what kind of punishment he could come up with the girls being home for the next two weeks, but you aren’t about to find out.

“Yes, sir,” you say with your voice full of sweetness. He rolls the two of you and you land on top of him with a quiet squeak. His legs part to make room for you between them. You already know what’s coming next.

“Take my cock out, little dove.” His voice a husky growl.

You sit up between his thighs, resting on your heels. Before following his demands, you reach for your bodysuit and slowly peel it off your body and over your head. He presses his lips together to stop the smile.

“No panties and that see-through red bra I love so much? Was someone planning to get fucked tonight?”

You trail your fingers along the cups of your bra, your nipples hardening at attention through the fabric. “Maybe,” you wink.

Joel sits up so quickly that it startles you, the strong muscles behind his soft tummy rippling as he does it. His hands wrap around your wrists and through gritted teeth he commands, “Then take out my fucking cock, little dove. Get it nice and wet. Then, when I tell you to, sit on it and stay still like a good little girl until I tell you what to do.”

You go to kiss him but he lays back down with his hands behind his head and a cock smile on his face. You’re panting, you’re not sure when that happened. You lick your lips and your hands fly to the button of his jeans. Undoing it with shaky hands and then pull at the zipper. He’s rock-hard behind his black boxers. He shifts his hips so you can tug the jeans and his underwear down to sit just below his ass. His cock springs free and you don’t waste a single second, grabbing it by the base and lowering your face towards him. He watches you intensely.

“That’s it. Get it nice and wet, baby. Gotta make sure he can slide into that tight, little pussy of yours.”

You stop your lips mere inches from the tip of his leaking cock and look up at him. Without breaking eye contact you let saliva fall from your mouth and land on his cock. You clock the way his breathing halts as he watches it fall from your velvety lips to his aching cock, and the way he shudders an exhale as it runs down his shaft to your hand. You do it again, this time smiling up at him and then biting your bottom lip and the spit makes its sensual trail from his tip to your hand.

“Suck my cock, little dove. Now.”

Your lips are around his cock in an instant, sliding down as deep as you can go and holding it there. You breathe through your nose and let saliva pool in your cheeks before sliding up to the tip, coating his shaft with your spit. When you reach the top, you flick your tongue along the bottom ridge.

Joel groans, “Such a good listener.”

The praise washes over you, encouraging you to repeat your previous motion. You press him deeper this time, stopping when you feel him at the back of your throat.

“Fuck, little dove.” Joel’s voice is rough but full of admiration.

As your saliva starts to leak from your lips you pull back slowly, swirling your tongue along every ridge and vein that line the bottom of his cock. Your eyes meet his again as your tongue rounds the tip of his dick, the salty tang of his pre cum floods your system like a drug.

“Sit,” he accentuates the T and you scramble to straddle him.

You put your right knee on the floor, bending your left leg up so you can put your foot on the floor. This position saves one of your knees and you can usually get better leverage in a half squat versus a straddle. One of his hands comes to your right hip, the other wraps around his cock, holding it steady as you line yourself up.

The thick head prods at your entrance and you moan as you slide down the first few inches. “So good, Joel.”

“Mm-hmm, you have been good. Keep going, baby.” He releases his grip from his cock so you can take more of him. “That’s my girl. Taking it so well.”

You breathe through the stretch as your hips settle against his, then lean back to rest your hands on his muscle-packed thighs.

“Little dove, tell me how it feels.”

“Mmmm, so full,” you half whine, half pant.

He flexes his hips forward slightly at the neediness in your tone. “Gotta relax for me before you can move.”

His thumb comes to brush your clit. A small sob escapes your throat, “M’trying to.”

“I know, baby,” he coos, his thumb barely touching you as he circles it along your swollen clit. “You’re doin’ so good. Just breathe, little dove. Make room for my cock in that pretty little pussy of yours.”

You make a conscious effort to relax; unclenching your jaw and then letting your shoulders fall. Your head lulls back, the star on top of the tree and the smell of pine needles surrounds you. A fresh wave of arousal floods between your thighs and the pinch of him turns to pleasure.

“Good job, little dove. Are you ready to move?”

“Please. Oh gods. Please!”

“Sshhh, you’re ok. Nice and slow, honey.” His hand on your hip guides you back and forth. The motion is almost infinitesimal, but the forward rocking puts pressure on your g-spot and the thumb that still hovers about your clit. “Eyes on me now, baby.”

You tilt your chin down until your sparkling eyes meet his dark ones. He continues, “Can you do as you're told?”

You nod as a breathy plea leaves your lips, “Yes, sir. I will. Please, it feels so good.”

“I want you to ride me until you’re right on the edge of coming and then stop. Can you do that?”

“No,” you whine. “Why? I wanna come. Please.”

“You will. If you listen like the good little girl I know you can be, I’ll let you come. But first, you have to earn it.” He squeezes at your hip, his short nails digging into the skin.

You stick out your bottom lip and say a sad, “Okay.”

“Give me your hand.” You move one of his hands from his thighs. He guides your hand to your clit and then wraps his hand around your left ankle. “Show me, little dove.”

You take the reins, rubbing tight circles along your clit as you grind back and forth. Your orgasm builds in an instant.

“Shit can feel how close you are already,” Joel grits out.

“Please let me come. I’ll do anything.” You change to a circular motion, shifting your weight to the left, using the squat position for more friction.

“Don’t you dare! You said you can do as you're told,” he reminds you roughly, then uses the hand that was clamped on your right hip to slap your inner left thigh. “Don’t make me punish you.”

The pain from his strike sends warmth right to your core and you stop before you come. You let out a sad whine and fall forward, hands landing on either side of your head as you catch your breath.

“Please!” You murmur.

“God, little dove. You have no idea what it does to me when you listen like that. Such a good little submissive, aren’t you?” His hand runs from your right hip up your back, finger flicking the clasp of your bra open. “Sit back up. You earned it, little dove. Use my cock. Make us come.”

The lacy red bra slides down your arms as you sit up and you toss it towards the tree before riding him like it’s the last time. Your hands fly to your breast, rolling your nipples between your fingers in time with your hips. Nothing compares to the feeling of Joel's thick cock filling you. It’s indescribable and so fucking addicting even after almost fifteen years together.

The rough pad of his thumb loves back to your clit and you gasp. “Please don’t make me stop again, Joel. I’m so close.”

“I know, baby. I won’t. Fucking Christ, squeezin me so tight. I’m not gonna last.” The last part is a whimper.

“I’m gonna come,” you moan.

“Me too, little dove. Let go, fuuuck, let go for me.”

The sparks behind your clit turn into a fire, scalding every nerve ending as it spreads throughout your body. You bite down on your hand to stop from screaming as you twitch on his cock. Your pussy clenches tightly around him a few times before you feel him burst inside of you. His grip on your hip tightens again as he whines softly. Your eyes lock on his, the veins in his neck popping as he whispers your name and praises how good you feel wrapped around him.

Your highs seem to last forever before he reaches up to pull you down on top of him. Helping you shift your weight so you straddle him fully. He plasters you to his chest, the thin layer of both of your sweat mixing. Your heart races behind your ribs as you catch your breath, an occasional after-shock causing your pussy to flutter gently on his slowly softening cock.

“Oh my god,” you say, relaxing into his warmth.

“You ok, baby?” He sponges a kiss to your hairline.

“Mm-hmm. So good. Sleepy, but amazing.” Your mumble, kissing his chest.

His hands run along the lines of your back. “Good. Merry Christmas, little dove.”

[tashism]

thinking about patrick coming to visit you during tour everyone lock in

sitting back against the wall while he sits between your legs, back to your chest, his cock in your hand. he can barely keep his eyes open and his words are nothing but low slurs as you jerk him off, his head lolled back onto your shoulder. “i don’t even like masturbating anymore…” he admits quietly, lifting his head to watch the way your hand works over him, your thumb swiping along his slit and your free hand running over his abs. “you’re too good at it… you’re too good at this… can’t cum without you” the way he says it is enough to make you dizzy, your hand twisting over his pink, sensitive tip as you listen to his dazed confessions.

“all you can do is pump, huh?” you tease, bringing a hand to his hair and tangling your fingers in the brown locks, holding his head up so he can’t look away from what you’re doing to him. he nods with a sharp inhale, his big hands grasping tighter at your thighs, your calves, anything he can touch. “i just keep trying and trying… but it never works- fuck, baby, please…”. he’s desperate at this rate, so needy and full after three months of disappointing nights alone. his hips snap up a little, begging for more friction as his head falls back into you, his lips parted in probably the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard from him. the second he’s fucking your hand it’s over, his cum spilling out onto your hand, his stomach, your sheets. you hadn’t really believed him about not being able to cum until you saw how much he had in him, his thighs shaking and eyes squeezed shut, his hands fisting the sheets so hard that his knuckles start to turn white. he’s left a panting, dizzy mess, covered in cum and sweat.

that’s not enough for you, though — you have three months to make up for!

[blackenedsnow]

OMG YOUR BLOG IS SO SO SO COOL ??? HELLO?? IM IN LUV W YOUR LAYOUT AAAAA

soeey but may i make a request pls i beg bc ive been thinking ab this all day every day for like a week 😭😭 is it okay to request slashers reacting to you faking an 0rgasm?? 😭 specifically micheal bc I'm in my mikey phase but if not then don't worry about it <3<3<3 but tag me if possible !! thank you!!!

slashers reactions to you faking an orgasm

WARNING ; NSFW/18+, fake orgasms

PAIRING: Michael Myers x Reader, Jason Voorhees x Reader, Billy Loomis x Reader

NOTE: Omg, first of all, thank you for the sweet words about my blog!! 🖤 I didn't know what other slashers to put so I put a few in those feel spinner thingys and chose like that. Hope you enjoy!

MICHAEL MYERS

He knows your body better than anyone, and the moment he catches onto the fact that you faked it?

He goes completely still.

No breathing, no movement—just his blank mask staring at you like you’ve committed a cardinal sin.

He’s not mad, per se.

He’s disappointed.

But also? He takes it as a personal challenge.

You think you need to fake it? That you’d have to with him?

Oh, he’s going to prove you so wrong.

Expect him to be relentless.

He’ll have you pinned under his weight, utterly at his mercy, as he drags it out of you for real this time.

And you won’t be able to fake anything by the end of it—not with the way he watches you like a predator, soaking in every sound and twitch you make.

(And yeah, maybe he’s a little salty. He’ll take his time, make you beg, just to remind you who’s in charge here.)

JASON VOORHEES

He’s not exactly the most experienced in this department, but he tries so hard to please you.

When you fake it, he stops immediately.

He looks at you with confusion, maybe even a little bit of hurt.

Jason doesn’t understand why you’d fake something like this.

Did he hurt you? Did you not want to be with him? Were you bored? His mind spirals into self-doubt.

He’ll sit back, his big hands resting on your thighs as he studies your face, searching for answers.

If you admit you were faking it, Jason might feel a little dejected, but he’ll try to do better.

He’s nothing if not attentive, and he’ll take your cues more seriously from now on.

Honestly, he’s so focused on making you happy that the whole situation ends up being more of a learning experience than anything else.

Jason just wants to be a good partner.

BILLY LOOMIS

Oh, you’re gonna regret this one, babe.

Billy is petty as hell.

The second he catches on, he stops everything.

Completely.

Pulls back, smirking down at you with that cocky, condescending expression.

What follows is absolute hell—the good kind, though.

Billy edges you mercilessly, taking you right to the brink over and over again until you’re begging him to let you finish.

When he finally lets you come undone, it’s explosive.

Billy makes sure you won’t even think about faking it again.

And, of course, he’ll tease you about it for weeks afterward.

[caspiansinclair]

TRK KANDREW QUOTES:

- "Andrew twisted and punched the wall hard enough to split the skin along his knuckles. Kevin took a quick step forward, hand out like he could stop Andrew from landing a second blow"

- "You shouldn't be outside if you're coming down with something," Kevin said. "Such concern." Andrew grinned at Kevin's cool tone. "Don't cry, Kevin. It's nothing a nap and some vitamin C can't fix."

- Kevin had a knee hugged to his chest and his face hidden in the fold of his arm. His knuckles were white where his hand was clenched into a fist. Neil didn't think it was the bus that was making Kevin shake like that. "Look at me," Andrew said. "It'll be fine. You believe me, yes?" "I believe you," Kevin said, muffled but noticeably strained.

- "Andrew has neither purpose nor ambition," Kevin said. "I was the first person who ever looked at Andrew and told him he was worth something. When he comes off these drugs and has nothing else to hold him up I will give him something to build his life around." (my fav quote)

- Kevin had eyes only for Andrew as he crouched in front of the downed goalkeeper. "So," Kevin said, "did you have fun?" Andrew was too tired to put any heat in his words. "You are despicable, Kevin Day. I don't know why I keep you around."

- Kevin only smiled, slow and sure and pleased, and offered Andrew a hand. Andrew looked at it, then at Kevin, and let Kevin haul him to his feet.

- "Why do you have his drugs?" "I hold onto them when he's adjusting his schedule," Kevin answered. "Game nights or nights like tonight when he wants to go into withdrawal, it's better if someone else keeps the bottle. If he has his pills he'll take them. He won't be able to help himself."

- "When I said I wasn't Andrew's type, I meant it. It's not about my looks or faith. It's that I'm a woman." Neil heard her words but was slow to understand them. He blinked at her in confusion, blinked again when it clicked, and said a little too loudly, "Oh. Then Andrew and Kevin—"

- "Andrew won't agree to this," Abby said, a last-ditch effort to change their minds. "Going means leaving Kevin behind. They haven't had more than a campus between them since Andrew took Kevin under his wing."

- "Kevin," Andrew called from out of sight. Kevin nearly knocked the chair over in his hurry to answer. Neil watched from the doorway as Andrew stopped almost right up against Kevin. Andrew pat Kevin down for imaginary injuries and Kevin stood motionless until he was done."

- "Look at that face, Bee. He wants me sober more than almost anyone does, but only if the timing's right. I warned you, didn't I? Who will take care of Kevin if I'm gone? I can't trust him wandering around here by himself, and Coach can't be with him all the time. Kevin's kind of a full-time job."

- "I can't believe you're sending Andrew away," Kevin said, a little sharply.

- "She shouldn't have taken Andrew away," Kevin said in a low voice.

- Kevin is not like us; he is valuable but he is not property in the same sense. He escaped because he had family to run to." "Andrew?" Neil guessed.

- “Kevin had spent the better part of a year trying to get through to Andrew. He wanted Exy to mean something; he wanted Andrew’s best preformance like a dying man wanted one last breath of air. Andrew knew it, and he refused to play along.”

- (this one’s long:) "So you'll try," Kevin said through gritted teeth, "because Coach asked you to."

Andrew folded his arms across his knees, tilted his head back, and smiled up at Kevin.

"Careful, Kevin. Your jealous streak is showing."

"For eight months you've told me no. In eight seconds you told him yes. Why?"

"Oh, that's easy." Andrew stuffed the last of his gear into his bag and zipped it shut. He slung the bag over his shoulders and got to his feet, standing up so close to Kevin he almost knocked Kevin back a step.

"It's just more fun to tell you no. That's what you wanted, right? You wanted me to have fun. I am. Aren't you?"

For someone so small, Andrew made a lot of noise when shoved into the lockers. Andrew was laughing as he crashed into the orange metal. Neil didn't know what amused Andrew more: Kevin's violence or the splash of blood that now stained the front of Kevin's shirt. Neil hadn't even seen Andrew take a knife out, but it was in his hand in the air between them. Kevin retreated from Andrew with a sharp curse.

"Jesus, Andrew!" Matt said. "Kevin, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Kevin put a hand to his chest as if checking the truth of his words. Neil was at the far end of the lockers from them, so he couldn't see very well, but the relative lack of blood made him think the cut was shallow. It was long, but it wasn't serious. It was going to sting when Kevin put heavy armor overtop it tonight, though.

Andrew stepped away from the lockers and got in Kevin's space again. He put the edge of the blade against Kevin's chest over his heart and peered up into Kevin's face. Kevin looked more angry than intimidated as he stared back. Matt started toward them, maybe thinking he had to break up round two of their fight. Kevin didn't look away from Andrew when he motioned at Matt to back off.”

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance Christmas Special

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Christmas Special

            “Kusuo, the cookies are ready!” said (Y/N), pulling the pan out of the oven. “Ow.” They hissed as the metal pan burnt their finger for a second. They drew it back and shook it out.

            “Don’t hurt yourself,” said Saiki. His psychokinesis picked up the tray and set all the cookies to cool down while he also healed (Y/N)’s finger.

            “Thanks, Kusuo,” said (Y/N), smiling and kissed his cheek before walking to a cupboard.

Behind them, Saiki eyed the cookies—shaped like little people—and one began to float into the air.

            “No eating them until we’ve decorated,” said (Y/N), not even having to turn around. They knew their boyfriend well.

            Saiki let out a mighty sigh, and (Y/N) just laughed, holding icing and sprinkles. “They’ll be even more delicious when we’ve finished and they have icing, and you know it.”

            “Fine,” said Saiki. Not only did he know they were right, but, as usual, he was unable to say no to them (which was maybe why he thought they were right…chicken and the egg problem).

            “I was thinking we make our friends,” said (Y/N), excitedly setting out the icing. “I’ve gotten better at cookie art, and I think I can make chibi-versions of them on these gingerbread men.” They smiled excitedly.

            “Who are our friends?” said Saiki, feigning ignorance.

            “Your ‘bothers,’ as you’ve nicknamed them,” teased (Y/N), knowing he cared. “We have enough gingerbread for a bunch of friends. I was thinking at least Nendou, Kaidou, Kokomi, Miko, Chiyo, Akechi, Hairo, and Toritsuka.”

            “He’s our friend?” Saiki was really doubtful of that.

            “He’s a perv, but he’s got his moments,” said (Y/N), shrugging. They grinned. “But we’re not including Saiko.” Giggling, they pretended to be posh and put on an accent. “ ‘You didn’t capture me well enough, and I have my chefs prepare an entire cake designed after me every year!’ ”

            Saiki smirked. That was a good impression. “Who do you want to make?” He would let (Y/N) choose first so they could have as much fun as they wanted.

            “Hm…Miko, Kaidou, Kokomi, and Chiyo!” said (Y/N) with a grin.

            “Then I’ll do Nendou, Akechi, Hairo, and Toritsuka,” said Saiki.

            “Let’s get to work,” said (Y/N) excitedly.

            Saiki nodded and got to work. With his psychokinesis and art-related abilities, he was able to represent the people he knew fairly well (and by ‘fairly well’ he meant perfectly but then he dumbed it down so they looked funnier). They all had school uniforms on, but Nendou had little question marks to represent how thick he was, Akechi had giant white “text boxes” with scrawls of black to represent his rambles, Hairo had his usual energetic fire around him, and Toritsuka…was just Toritsuka. If Saiki added too much of his personality, it would be inappropriate. …Maybe he’d add a tiny ghost and that would be enough.

            On (Y/N)’s part, they were also hard at work. Cookie Miko had sprinkles as barrettes all over her head, and (Y/N) carefully placed a round sprinkle in her hand as her crystal ball—they had been really excited to find those for this reason. Cookie Yumehara was also turning out quite nicely with some heart sprinkles around her because of her romantic personality. Cookie Kaidou was a lot of fun since (Y/N) added an “evil aura” around him for his battles of magic against Dark Reunion. Hey, they might tease him for it, but it was a cute, creative outlet. Satisfied with his cookie, (Y/N) put it with Cookie Yumehara.

            Cute, they thought, smiling.

            Teruhashi was next. (Y/N) happily made their friend with blue hair and put her in the same pose as everyone else. They added the golden glow that followed her around afterwards and nodded in satisfaction. Teruhashi looked adorable even as a cookie, unsurprisingly.

            Saiki watched (Y/N) work and looked at the remaining cookies—two. Floating one to him, he didn’t even have to think. He knew who he wanted to make. (Y/N) reached over and picked up the final cookie and smiled to themself. They knew who this was going to become.

            It was silent except for the soft Sinatra Christmas music playing through the house until (Y/N) and Saiki finished and looked up. Excitedly, (Y/N) smiled and looked at the tray of cookies.

            “They all look so good! You added their personalities, too!” said (Y/N), grinning. They knew he cared and paid attention to his friends. “That’s so cute.”

            “They’re so loud it’s impossible not to notice,” said Saiki.          

            “Uh-huh,” said (Y/N), shaking their head and grinning.

            “Yours look good,” said Saiki, seeing their knowing look. He saw through him like he was transparent. And I like it. No point (or ability) to lie there.

            “Thanks!” said (Y/N). “I tried to make it look like everyone and have important parts of them.” They paused and grinned. “And I made one more—here.” From behind their back, (Y/N) held up a Cookie Saiki.

            Saiki stared. It had his glasses, power dampeners, everything down to his deadpan expression. However, it did have a tiny sprinkle heart on his chest where his own heart would be. Oh, wow. It was so…sweet. (Y/N) saw him so nicely.

            “Do you like it?” said (Y/N) nervously.

            Saiki looked at them. “Of course I do.” He picked up another cookie. “And this one is for you.” He had also meant to surprise them by creating a Cookie (Y/N).

            They let out a surprised and pleased laugh, looking at the cookie. It had them in a little baker’s hat with hearts on it, and they were smiling widely. “It’s so cute,” said (Y/N). They smiled just as widely as the cookie’s expression and looked at Saiki with shining eyes. “I love it, Kusuo.”

            “I love you,” said Saiki, the words coming quickly.

            (Y/N)’s smile softened to a loving, gentle one. “I love you, too, Kusuo.”

            They put the cookies down and held out their hands. Saiki nodded, and (Y/N) hugged him. Saiki’s hands raised and pulled them close.

            “Merry Christmas, Kusuo,” whispered (Y/N), leaning back only so they could look him in the face.

            “Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” said Saiki. He leaned in to kiss them, and (Y/N) kissed back happily.

            The (Y/N) and Saiki Cookies lay side-by-side under the glow of Christmas lights, together just as (Y/N) and Saiki would be forever.

Taglist:

@elaemae

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[1425fivefive]

if you’re still doing kink prompt asks, can you do piercings/tattoos with Carlos Sainz and Oscar Piastri?

yes!! carlos is a piercer in this and oscar has a pussy for unexplained reasons. there is an actual genital piercing in this, so don't read if you're squeamish about that 💕 (for the kink prompt asks)

Carlos sucks Oscar’s clit into his mouth, moaning when Oscar lets out a desperate whimper of Carlos’s name, thighs trembling.

Oscar’s always been sensitive, always liked having his clit sucked and played with. Most of the time, Carlos feels like he barely has to do anything to have Oscar coming, shaking and whining, falling apart on Carlos’s fingers or face or cock. Carlos knows he’s good with his hands, has to be because of his work, but he’s not delusional enough to think he’s some sort of sex god. He knows Oscar is just like that. Too sensitive for his own good.

Carlos had brought up the piercing sort of as a joke. Pinched Oscar’s clit between his fingers and said, “Imagine how sensitive you would be with something sparkly here. You would never stop coming, I think.” Oscar’s mouth had dropped open, blinking up at Carlos with a shocked expression, and he came with a shuddering moan, clit twitching between Carlos’s fingers. Oscar hadn’t wanted to talk about it after, had just shoved his face against Carlos’s neck, thick thigh slung over Carlos’s waist.

Oscar hadn’t brought it up again for ages and Carlos figured he’d forgotten about it. Mindless dirty talk, in one ear and out the other.

But Oscar had turned up at the shop one day, hoodie pulled over his head like he was trying to avoid being spotted, like anyone would care about a random engineering student walking into a piercing studio. He’d barely been able to get the words out but he’d asked Carlos to show him pictures of clitoral piercings.

Carlos had pulled out a binder and they’d flipped through it together, Carlos resting a soft palm on Oscar’s lower back, pointing out which ones would increase sensitivity, which ones were easiest to heal.

Oscar lingered on one picture. “What’s this one called?” Oscar asked, voice so soft Carlos almost couldn’t hear him.

“Ah, that one is a vertical clitoral hood piercing,” Carlos said. “VCH for short.”

Oscar hummed, a pink flush rising in his cheeks.

“It is pretty, no?” Carlos asked, watching Oscar closely.

“Yeah, uh, really pretty,” Oscar said, still barely audible. “And does it—feel good?”

Carlos laughed softly, leaning in to press a kiss to Oscar’s neck. “Very good, cariño. The people I have given it to are always leaving me very nice reviews.”

Oscar let out a little squeak, a shiver running through him.

“If you want,” Carlos murmured, tugging Oscar closer to him, sliding his hand down to cup Oscar’s arse. “I could do it for you.”

Oscar moaned, shuddering against Carlos. “I have to—I need to—” He trailed off, letting out another little moan. “Let me think about it, maybe?”

“Of course,” Carlos said. “Take as long as you need.”

He’d eaten Oscar out on one of the display counters, after, made Oscar come three times on his tongue, imagining the taste of metal in his mouth, how easy it’d be to make Oscar come.

In the end, Oscar had only taken a week to think about it.

They’d been in Carlos’s flat, Oscar in Carlos’s lap, Carlos helping Oscar bounce on his cock, when Oscar had panted, “I want it. Please, Carlos. Want you to.”

Carlos had come on the spot.

And now he has Oscar in his bed, naked and flushed, thick thighs splayed apart, pussy dripping onto Carlos’s sheets. Carlos’s piercing tools are next to them on a tray, along with the little bar Carlos picked out for him with two white jewels on either end. The little bar that’s going to be pressed up right against Oscar’s clit, keeping him sensitive and wet and needy, desperate for Carlos.

Carlos moans against Oscar’s cunt, sucking hard on his clit. It’ll be easier if Oscar’s turned on, his clit swollen and easy to pierce. And it’ll be less painful if he’s just come. If he’s still riding the endorphins of his orgasm. Oscar also won’t be able to play with his clit for a few weeks, has to leave it alone to heal. Carlos can’t even imagine how desperate Oscar will be at the end of it, how good that first orgasm with the piercing in will feel. Carlos sort of wants to see if he’ll finally be able to get Oscar to squirt.

“Carlos,” Oscar gasps, back arching off the bed and thighs spreading wide in the way they always do right when he’s about to come. “Carlos, fuck, oh, please, Carlos.”

Carlos whines and drags a flat tongue over Oscar’s clit, keeping the pressure steady and even, making sure his tongue’s covering Oscar’s entire clit, that Oscar can feel him everywhere.

Oscar’s thighs are shaking and he’s gone almost silent, nothing except little gasping breaths, tiny hitched whimpers. It only takes one more drag of Carlos’s tongue for Oscar to come with a hoarse scream, cunt twitching rapidly under Carlos’s mouth, wetness flooding onto Carlos’s chin, Carlos’s sheets. Carlos groans, licking Oscar through it, hoping his sheets will smell like Oscar for days, a reminder of the pleasure Carlos brought him.

Oscar hasn’t even finished coming when he gasps, “Do it.”

Carlos moans, giving Oscar’s clit one last suck, but he sits up, grabbing for the needle.

Oscar’s still shaking a bit, still trembling, but he goes still when Carlos pinches Oscar’s swollen clit between his fingers, letting out a whimper that sounds aroused and frightened all at once.

“Deep breath, cariño,” Carlos murmurs, positioning the needle. He feels focused, in control. He’s done thousands of piercings, he knows he’s good at this, knows he won’t hurt Oscar. “Deep breath.”

Oscar whimpers again but he takes a shaky breath in, looking up at Carlos with desperate eyes.

“Good,” Carlos soothes. “Now let it out.”

Oscar starts to exhale and Carlos pushes the needle through, quick and efficient, one smooth movement.

Oscar lets out an anguished scream but it turns into something else halfway through, a cry of pleasure, and then Oscar’s shaking, toes curling, hands twitching, letting out little gasps of, “Oh, oh, oh.”

“Oh my god,” Carlos moans, watching Oscar come just from the feeling of being pierced, just from the brush of metal against his clit. “Oh my god, Oscar, oh my god.”

Oscar’s still coming, cunt gushing onto the bed, trembling and crying out, desperate chants of Carlos’s name.

“I’m here,” Carlos breathes, pressing a kiss to Oscar’s knee, keeping the needle steady, keeping Oscar’s throbbing clit between his fingers. “I’m here, baby, you’re okay.”

“Carlos,” Oscar sobs, one last shiver before finally going lax against the bed.

Carlos takes a shaky breath before reaching for the jewelry, slipping it through and screwing the gems on either end. Carlos can’t hold back a moan at the sight of Oscar’s puffy cunt, his swollen clit decorated with little jewels. Carlos had thought Oscar’s cunt was pretty before, but now—

“Beautiful,” Carlos murmurs, staring at Oscar’s pussy. “So pretty.”

Oscar whines, thighs splaying open, even as he whispers, “Hurts.”

“I know,” Carlos soothes, running a palm over Oscar’s thigh. “But I think you like that, no?”

Oscar lets out a tiny, anguished sob, but he nods, once.

[mountquokka]

Attention

Bang Chan X fem!reader

Word count: 1,848

Warnings: dom Chan, sub reader, bondage, heavy amounts of teasing, orgasm denial, sir kink, begging, no protection (no), pet names (baby, babygirl, babe), hair pulling, mirror sex, slight choking, oral (f receiving)

Summary: You're bored and just trying to find a way to past the time

Notes: This will have a second part 🤭

Taglist <3: @hongjoongtime117 @lee-sang1625

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays🎄☃️🎅🏻

Chan was with 3racha working on a song for their next comeback and you were alone in the dorm. You find ways to pass time. You clean any room that seemed remotely dirty and reorganized random books on the bookshelf. Looking at your phone hoping the time would go by faster yet nothing kept you occupied long enough.

You then get an idea. 

You remember you had bought an outfit to surprise him with. You knew he would love it and wouldn’t be able to resist you, so you kept it hidden. Until now…

You went to your bedroom, fetched the box you hid in the back of the closet and opened the lid. You took out the red lingerie with matching thigh highs. You admired the soft material and started changing. Once changed, you walked over to the mirror next to the bed and smiled at yourself. The lingerie hugged your body perfectly. The sheer material with lacy detail left little to imagination.

Afterwards, you put on a little lipgloss and sat on the bed. You took a pillow, placed it in front of you and put your phone on it.

You go to your camera and set the timer. You do various poses, showing off the set. When you were satisfied, you sent them to Chan with the message “I miss you sir, please come home soon. I really need you” You wait for his response with a mischievous giggle.

Chan was in the studio trying to find lyrics when he felt his phone vibrate. Usually he'd ignore it but he thought that a little break might help his writer's block. He pulls it out and sees it’s a text from you. 

He opens it and his eyes widen. He clears his throat and excused himself from the studio and went to the bathroom. He pulled up the pictures you sent again, smirking. He called you.

When you saw him calling, you smiled and answered, putting it on speaker. “Hey babe, how’s work going?” You asked innocently “Oh babygirl, I know what you’re doing” you giggled “I don’t know what you are talking about sir” he growled into the phone “watch it” you could tell you were getting to him so you push a little further. You slide your hand into your panties and moan at how wet you already were “Sir please? I need you, I’m already so wet for you.” You add a hint of tease in your tone. He groans a soft fuck, trying so hard to not pull his cock out and release right there in that bathroom. “You’re playing a dangerous game baby, you better watch it before I punish you” 

You smiled to yourself, you had him right where you wanted him “maybe that’s what I want” the phone goes quiet for a few seconds before Chan replies in a deep lust filled voice “you just wait” With that he hangs up and heads back to the studio and starts packing his things.

 “Hey everything ok?” Han asked and Changbin looked him slightly concerned. “Yeah I’m good but I gotta go… y/n needs… help. with… something? GottaGo!” Then he was out the door. Changbin and Han look at each other and just shake their heads and get back to work.

When Chan arrived at the dorms, he drop his stuff at the door. He instantly went to the bedroom where you were. He opens the door to see you laying there on the bed, in a sexy pose, looking back at him. He smirks and takes off his shirt. He walks to the bed and stops at the edge. You get on your knees in front of him on the bed. “Such a naughty girl, you really thought it was a good idea to tease me while I’m working?” “It seemed like you were enjoying” You giggled, continue your teasing. He grabs you by the throat and brings your ear to his mouth “you think this is funny? You better drop this teasing act before your punishment gets worse” you shiver and  thought for a moment, wanting to keep this game going. You put on an innocent look and answered “I just wanted your attention sir” you drag your hand against his abs, biting your lower lip. He grabs your wrist with his free hand before you can get any lower. “And now you have it” He lets go of your throat with a growl and walks to the dresser across from the bed.

He pulls out a box from one of the drawers. He takes out rope and walks back over to the bed, you’re already in position. He smirks at your eagerness and he gets onto the bed, kneeling next to you. “Arms” you raised your arms up and he started tying the rope in a basic but pretty design up to your elbow.

He gets between your legs and hovers over you. He starts kissing you and his hands roaming your body. His kisses start making its way down your body. You moan as he starts going lower. You take your tied arms and grab his hair as he kisses your inner thigh. Chan moves away and slams your arms down over your head. “Who said you could touch me? You wanted to be a tease so your lost your privilege” you whine, realizing what the REAL punishment is.

“Now be a good girl and keep your arms there”

He starts taking the bottom of the lingerie off and admired your glistening pussy before him. “you look so beautiful babygirl, so wet” he takes his index and middle finger and drags it against your folds. Your fingers twitched trying to hold back from touching. He continues to move his fingers against you as he starts bringing his face closer. He starts with a lick to your clit and you tense at the pleasure. He feels you tense up so he lightly rubs your thigh. 

He starts lapping at your folds and your hand goes to his hair, unable to stop yourself. He takes your wrists into his hand and continues licking and sucking your clit. He held your arms far enough where you couldn’t reach him even if you weren’t tied up. He pulls off your clit with a pop and looks up at you. 

“What did I say about not touching me? You just don’t wanna listen today do you?” You mewl and squirm in his hold “No wait please I’m sorry. It was a reflex. I didn’t mean t-” He cuts you off by going back to your folds also plunging two fingers into you. He pumps at a fast pace while sucking your clit. You wriggle against him as the pleasure in the pit of your stomach builds rapidly. Your moans get louder and more high pitched as you feel your release approach.

When your legs started shaking, he knew you were close and removes his fingers and mouth. You whined as your high starts to die down. “No cumming yet baby, we’re just getting started”

He gets off the bed taking off his pants but leaving on his boxers, the tent very prominent. You eyes fall to his dick and your mouth starts watering. The wet spot in his boxers doesn’t go unnoticed along with the twitch when he realized you were staring. “My eyes are up here babygirl” he says with a smirk. You look up at him with doe-like eyes “Please I want it in my mouth” He groans at your response “Do you think you deserve it? Especially with how you were acting earlier?” You pout, knowing the right answer “No…” He hums at your response.

Chan unties the rope but still pins them down so you can’t touch him “You still can’t touch me baby, your punishment isn’t over yet” You whine loudly. He flips you onto your stomach and moves behind you. He pulls you up by your hips so your ass meets his bulge. He slowly rocks himself against you groaning at the friction. You feel him twitching against you and you whimper, trying to push back against him. He holds you hips in place and continues grinding against you faster, more precum building in his boxers. 

“Please sir just fuck me already. I really need you please” he smirks and pulls down his boxers. He lines himself up to your entrance, but he doesn’t push in right away. “Hmmm, I don’t know if I should. Maybe I’ll just stay like this”  “No no please, sir I wanna feel you so bad! I’ll be good please, no more teasing I really really want you” Chan groaned at your begs. He slams into you, you let out a scream. “Damn baby you feel so good, still so tight” Your eyes roll back as you moan at his words. You grip the sheets in front of you until your knuckles turn white. You mewl out his name as he groans at you clenching him, throwing his head back. His speed increasing the more you clench him.

He looks over to the side and sees the mirror across from the bed. Then an idea pops in his head. He moves you and places you facing the mirror. He grabs your hair and pulls you up to look at yourself. “Look at how fucked out you look on my cock” you whimper as you make eye contact with him and then yourself, taking in you disheveled appearance. He grabs your boobs and squeezes them as you fall apart underneath him. He plays with your nipples through the bra of the lingerie and you start clenching around him more. He groans and starts picking up more speed. 

He starts thrusting harder getting close to his high. You start shaking getting close to yours too. “S-sir I’m gonna-“ he groans, not being able to hold back anymore. He flips you onto your back, continuing his rough pace “I wanna see your face while you cum for me” You grip the sheets next to you. He interlaced one of his hands into yours “you can touch me now baby” You wrap your free arm around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. “Cum for me babygirl” he moans against your lips. Your release crashes over you. Chan swallowing your screams as his hips stutter. He releases into you and you moan at the warmth of his cum painting your walls. You wrap your arms around his neck. “You took your punishment so well baby” You giggle into his neck as you come down from your high.

Chan pulls out if you and goes to the bathroom. He wets a rag and comes back into the room. He wipes you down then goes to the closet. He grabs one of his hoodies and puts it on you. He grabs boxers for himself and puts them on. He gets back on the bed and cuddles up with you. He kisses your forehead as you drift to sleep.

“You’ll never fail to get my attention babygirl”

[faithlia]

᥉᥆꧑ᥱᥒthιᥒg ᥲb᥆ᥙt ᥡ᥆ᥙ ᝰ.ᐟ

english ins't my first lenguage!

summary: matt and you share a tension that could be cut with a knife – which intensifies even more when he sees a picture of you.

warnings: suggestive, flirting, bissexual!reader, jealousy.

a/n: this is a collab with @aniesvision about the same story with different povs. click here to read her pov with Chris and get to know a little more about this.

The phrase "fucked up" is exactly what can define me at this moment. Damn! How could I be so careless and stupid? Look, I had no intention of sending that photo of my boobs in the group – that Matt is – I just wanted to show my bikini line to Anne.

My eyes widened in despair when I saw him approaching. My heart almost jumped out of my mouth when I noticed the smile on his lips. I pulled Anne by the arm before I could even greet them. I took her to the bathroom and started yapping nonstop, forming several scenarios in my mind. However, Anne proposed an interesting idea after I told her that yes, maybe, I want Matt, but not in a way that he thinks I'm desperate for him.

"Okay, well, why don't we test it out to see if he likes you too? I can pretend to be flirting with you so we see his reactions." she suggested with a mischievous smile. Something was so enchanting in her voice that made me delirious, it was impossible to say no to her.

I bit my lip and listened to her words.

In the end, it really seemed to work. She approached me with her crimson lips very close to mine, she touched me shamelessly and, even though it was just to tease the boys, I really did get slightly excited. Matt seemed confused, unlike Chris who was furious. I laughed as I looked at Matt but kept up the charade, loving the way he didn't take his eyes off me.

As the night went on, we drank and said a lot of stupid things to lighten the mood, except for the fact that Anne and I kept on touching each other. We went to the mini golf course and Anne kept bragging about scoring more than us; she and Chris were in an unbearable fight – which was the gateway for Matt to finally approach me.

"So, how long are you and Anne going to keep rubbing against each other like two bitches in heat?", he asked, with the golf club on his shoulders – he looked like an idiot.

"And since when do you care, huh?", I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I think since you sent me that picture...", he had a smug smile on his lips. Son of a bitch! I looked down, embarrassed, trying to find words that could shut that insufferable and delicious mouth. "Oh, no, come on! Don't be shy... they're beautiful."

"Oh my God", I exclaimed, positioning myself to leave, pretending I didn't like the compliment. Damn, I wish it wasn't true that I had tanned for him, but it was! I wanted him to see me, I wanted him to desire me, to like me and say it out loud just so I could tell him to fuck off or something. Does that even make sense?

"You know I sent it wrong"

He put the bat on the floor and let out a sigh. It was true, I had no intention of sending that photo in the chat like that, I wanted him to see it in person, but no one needed to know that. I sat in one of the chairs in a row, watching Chris and Anne almost kill each other on the mini golf course.

He sat next to me and I was dazzled by his blue eyes adorned with a shine that I was rarely able to witness. It was beautiful. He lowered his gaze to my mouth, sighing, and I soon noticed when he planted his eyes on my bust, ignoring what I had said.

As focused as I was at that moment, we were surrounded by several people, and that alarmed me. I swallowed hard, feeling shame take over my body. "Okay, stop it,” I said.

“Stop what?” Matt frowned and I gave him a disapproving look – he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “What? Do I make you nervous?” His smile was cocky and smug, but yes, he made me nervous as hell.

“No,” I lied. “It’s just that you’re practically ogling me, Matt,” I blurted out.

He pursed his lips and said, laughing at my insinuation, “Oh, stop pretending you don’t like it.”

"What?" I asked, offended - but not entirely. Matt was slouched in his chair, very close to me. He put one of his arms around my neck, using his fingers to play with my necklace. I didn't feel uncomfortable, although it was rare that we were actually this close. Even though we were friends, there was always that indiscreet flirting when we were alone. I just didn't have the courage to make the first move, and, disappointingly, neither did Matt. However, tonight, he had been less reluctant than usual, and I loved it.

"Am I lying?" he pointed out. Now, with the proximity, his voice was a little lower, but due to the music in the place and the constant chatter, he decided to speak in my ear. "I'm wondering: how long are you going to keep playing this little game, hm?" his soft voice made me shiver. I liked the way his body was pressed against mine - trying his best to calm my nervousness.

Matt turned his face away, waiting for my answer. "I'm not playing games!".

Unfortunately, I never got around to being more deliberate. I crossed my legs and snuggled closer to him, getting much closer to each other.

"Aren't you? Then what's all this?", he lowered his gaze and I bit my lip.

"You're the one who did this, idiot," I grumbled. "And, well, you're the one who kept complimenting my boobs...", I shrugged, watching him chuckle. I felt comfortable enough to run my boot over his covered leg, giving him a gentle caress.

"But you're the one who sent the picture of them..."

He brought his lips closer to mine, ready to kiss me but I dodged, making him kiss the corner of my mouth. "Matt... not here!", I whispered in a slurred voice, wanting to cry with so much desire.

"Not here?", he repeated, kissing my cheek, then behind my ear and also my neck. "Where then?", he moved his hand to my arm, forcing me lightly against his chest. "Tell me..."

I really didn't want to kiss him in the middle of so many people, especially because I knew very well how a simple kiss could end. My temptations seemed insatiable, just like his. Before I could answer, I saw Anne and Chris approaching. I took a deep breath, straightening my posture and thinking about what I would do, but nothing came to mind.

Matt didn't force me to speak, respecting my silence. He gave me his usual simplistic look, dragging his hand down my thigh and finally standing up.

I saw him handing the car keys to Chris and Anne came to me, asking: "So, is he already desperate for you?", I stood up and put my arm around her waist while she put hers around my shoulders. "Almost", I answered.

They got to the car and Chris would be our driver this time while Anne made herself comfortable in the passenger seat. There was an uncomfortable silence in the air, and I had to hold back a nervous laugh.

The silence was broken when Anne decided to put on some music to drown out the tense atmosphere.

Matt was next to me, with a neutral expression. I looked away, starting to think he hated me. Shit, shit.

It was so dark that I couldn't tell what was going on in the backseat, and the loud music drowned out any other sounds.

Matt grabbed his phone, ignoring my existence, and I decided I wasn't going to care about it until I heard the notification sound on my phone.

Matt: Did I really need to see you two flirting?

Me: are you jealous?

Matt: Just wondering if that's why you didn't answer me.

I glanced at him, knowing what he was talking about.

Me: I don't want to go to your house. Nick will be there... with a ton of questions.

Matt: Great. Let's go to yours, I can't wait to see you.

Me: you're literally right next to me.

Matt: You know what I mean.

Me: that's not fair! If you saw my boobs then you're gonna have to show me yours too, bitch.

He looked at me, thinking about what to write and I gave him a cocky smile.

Matt: I can show you that and a lot more, baby...

Marry Christmas 🎄

[ink-stainedkiss]

Tattoo Artist Satoru Gojo Headcannons

*Not proofread sorry I got to excited and immediately wanted to post this.*

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who is ecstatic when you walk through his shop doors. As you scan the lobby, looking at different tattoo ideas, Gojo sneakily walks over to his employee, who is mainly the receptionist, but he tells her to take a break since she’s working so hard.

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who listens very carefully to your explanation. His eyes scanning over your form to uh…get an understanding of where you want the tattoo, yeah, that’s right. He quickly perks up when you tell him you want the ink on your ribs, your hand tracing right under your breast.

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who flirts with you shamelessly while others in the room work on their clients.

“So you want it on your ribs, huh?” He asks, inspecting the reference photo you brought in for him. You hum in confirmation,”Yes, is that going to be a problem?” The artist shakes his head,”No not at all, but I’m supposed to tell you that it’s not going to feel amazing.”

Gojo watches as you start to pull up your hoodie sleeve, revealing your arm covered in gorgeous drawings,”I think I’ll handle it.” Gojo gave you a smirk, but on the inside he was still gawking at your arm. If you too were alone, he probably wouldn’t be able to help himself. He stepped back from the counter, slyly lifting his arms to “stretch”, and doesn’t mind how you peek at the slip of skin from his lifted shirt. To add the cherry on top, he catches your eyes, and gives you a flirty wink.

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who has to bite his own fist to contain any crude sounds from escaping as you walk past, telling him,”I came here to get a tattoo, pretty boy, not to be teased.”

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who trails after you like an excited puppy to the back tables. He tells you to take off your hoodie, hoping that after he can tell you to take off more. You clearly aren’t shy, because even the way you take off you jacket makes you ten times hotter.

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who believes he hit the mother load as he sees the scattered markings of tattoos across your body, since you so gratefully decided to wear a tank top to his store. As he preps the stencil, he can’t help but take glances as you hop up onto the bed. His eyes linger on your bra strap, noting the scarlet material shining through your practically transparent tank top.

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who has to keep his face neutral when he asks you to lift your top. His jaw tightens at the sight of your bare skin and he has to tell himself to be professional. It’s just so hard when you're laid out on his medical bed and looking so, so, perfect.

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who chuckles when you let out a small squeak as he applies the cold sterile wipe on your skin, his azure eyes locking onto your for only a second, before he’s looking away. The tension in the room is thick and he loves every second of it.

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who loves seeing you flustered by his intense staring.

He tilts his head and gives you a sultry smile, asking,”Are you ready?” His mouth twisting in a lazy grin. You open your mouth to respond, but you can’t, instead you look away, a blush reaching your cheeks,”Mhm.” You hate how his small laughs make your heart flutter.

He begins to trace your tattoo, but as the needle hits your skin, you inhale sharply. Of course it’s not pleasant, but it wasn’t agonizing. Gojo flicks his eyes back and forth, checking in on you and making sure he doesn’t mess up your tattoo. As he glides the tool down, it hits a spot that makes you gasp, impulsively grabbing ahold of Gojo’s hand that rests on your stomach. He doesn’t mind, hell, he loves the fact that your using his hand as a vice. His smirk grows as you squeeze his hand each time the needle punctures your skin a bit too hard.

To soothe you, his thumb gently caresses your skin, and it seems to work.

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who praises you immensely once the tattoo is done. He finds the sparkle in your eye as you stare at the ink in the large mirror adorable. While most will say he’s just charming you, he honestly finds you stronger than most that walk in. Especially because it was a rib tattoo. He’s seen some men that have gotten the same and walk out of the shop with tear stains coating their cheeks. But you didn’t even need one break.

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who grins as you examine your new tattoo in the mirror.

“Ya know, it kinda matches mine.” Without waiting a second, Gojo is lifting his shirt, making you go beet red. His abs make their way into your vision, but the artist is turning around before you can look any longer. There on his back are beautiful marks, etching from his shoulder blacks, to the bottom of his back.And dear god, it’s gorgeous. Everything. The ink to just his figure. He’s large. You reach out a hand to feel, but you instinctively yank it back, embarrassed at your actions.

Gojo had seen it in the mirror and chuckled under his breath,”It’s alright, you can touch. I don’t bite.” He purred,”Unless you want me too.”You were speechless by his boldness. It was super hot, but you wouldn’t tell him that. You hesitated, but the tattoo was practically calling to you. Finally, your soft fingers traced over the sketches, making Gojo let out a shaky breath.

You started at his shoulders, dragging down till you hit his spine. Gojo obviously had a sensitive spot, because you were sure you heard a muffled groan.Gaining more confidence, you use both hands, massaging his sculpted back,”It's breathtaking.” That’s it. That’s all Gojo needed to snap, because in an instant he’s flipping around, stealing your lips in a hot and needy kiss.

Tattoo Artist!Gojo who makes his employees question why your tattoo is taking so long and why his room is locked…

[t-horn-n]

— the nights the wind grows teeth

pairing: silco x hard of hearing!reader (female) 

genre: a little of everything 

summary: a simple introduction, briefly. 

word count: 1 311

note: I have an unserious headcanon that Silco doesn’t drink anything from the Last Drop since Vander’s not the one pouring them.

anyway, prolly gonna be a series ???

You possess a capacity for calmness that so often escapes fissure folk.  It’s a quality that Silco appreciates even if that sort of level-headedness is off-putting to most, to the extent that many believe you’re either a stone cold bitch or just stupid enough to live in a constant state of ignorant bliss.  

Silco supposes that, temperamentally, you remind him of himself.  Sevika has his passion, but she also has a tendency to think with her fists.  Jinx has his intellect and intuition but she’s inclined to act out on her own.  You actually can exhibit an amount of forethought.  And, well, past the three of you, he can’t claim to be interested in anyone else. 

“Go home, kid,” Sevika says into your good ear.  “You’ve done enough for the day.”

It’s barely eleven at night and you know that she’s going to be running around for the next three hours, at least.  That, and you’re actually Sevika’s senior by a year, give or take.  She just likes to play big sister once in a while.  You like to let her.  

And you can’t say that you mind getting off a little early to sit in one of the Last Drop’s booths until you’re tired enough that you’ll be asleep on your feet by the time you trudge back to your bed.  Well actually, if you’re more inclined to be honest, which you aren’t, you would admit that you’re hoping it’ll be one of those occasions where your generous benefactor will slide into the seat across from you and lean forward so that you can light his cigar.  You’ve never quite understood why he likes the things considering that the fissures already have their fair share of smoke.  

Sometimes he’ll talk about the week’s plans, monologuing into your good ear, or he’ll talk about Jinx.  On other nights, when he knows that the ringing in your bad ear is particularly bad, he’ll let you sit in silence, watching his smoke writhe beneath the Last Drop’s grimy green light.  

Everyone knows that Silco is clever, but he is also observant, and he knows that it’s the biting, frosty nights that your hearing is the worst.  The uncomfortable whine is the loudest and even the sounds that you can hear become smothered and unfocused.  

It’s also when that unrequited ache, bone-deep, is the most needy.  

You’ve only had shimmer once.  It’s been too long for you to remember how it actually tasted, whether it was bitter or sweet; whether it burned your throat or whether they injected it straight into your veins.  But you can remember the way that it made you feel.  You’ve never been in love, but you figure that shimmer makes one as manic as love does.  

When it’s cold fog stalking the Lanes, rather than just the typical Gray, your severed ear calls out for the weightless sensation shimmer provided, but you’re sure that if you indulge, even when you feel like you won’t survive the phantom pains, you won’t be able to resist the drug the next time.  Or the next.  You can’t say that your life is bliss, but you know that you're much better off fighting the cold with the Last Drop’s liquor than you are addicted to shimmer.

“It’s bothering you tonight,” Silco states plainly.  

Before you is a glass of some mystery, clouded liquid.  All you’d asked for was something strong, hoping that it’d dull the persistent thrumming in your skull.  Silco, lounging across from you, has an unlit cigar dancing between his fingers.  You swear you’ve never seen him drink from his own bar.

“Yes,” you admit because you know anything else will lead to a pointless argument.  “But it’s not bad tonight.” 

“Hm,” he hums.

You’d only been to the Last Drop once before meeting Silco, officially that is.  And, you hadn’t really been there, all things considered.  You had been fifteen and had your ear pressed against one of its windows in order to hear the murmurs of whomever was inside.  Before you ran with Silco, you were an information runner.  It was simple and clean and tidy.  You’d play the part of the fly on the wall and whisper plans for hit-and-runs and smuggling jobs into the ears of your handlers and you’d get a cut.  It was simple, well, until you got caught.  

Now, it’s certainly true that your old job would be more difficult considering the circumstances.  The reason why Silco keeps you around, you suspect, is because you can be quiet and charming, when you want to be.  Your feet are coated in enough silver for you to make your way silently around the Lanes into places where people don’t want you to be.  And your center is soft and gooey enough to charm Piltees into trying shimmer.  Just this once, they’ll tell you.  That’s how you get them.

“A shipment is going out tomorrow and I expect that it will go better than the last one,” Silco says.  

He sounds submerged.  He repeats himself, slowly so that you can make out the movements of his lips in the low light, then continues, “We don’t need the Fireflies disrupting our schedule any more than they already have.” 

You nod and notice how odd he looks down among the general trouble of the Lanes.  

“You’ll be there tomorrow,” he says and it’s a fact.

He slides out of the booth, his cigar still unlit.  “It’s cold tonight.”

“I’m warm enough,” you tell him as you down the rest of your drink.  

The cobblestones beneath seep cold into the soles of your feet and the alleyways shuck their frosty breath onto your back on your way to your hole-in-the-wall apartment.  It’s cold there too.  And dark. 

There’s not really a kitchen, just a gas cooktop beside a muddy window.  A single stool sits at a counter and beyond that is a bed boxed in by three walls and an old dresser. 

“Hi, Jinx.” 

“Aw, how’d you know I was here?” she croons.

“I heard the sound of your breathing.” 

“No you didn’t,” she laughs.  

“No,” you agree.  “But you left my door unlocked.” 

“Oops.” 

You toss your jacket at her as you flip the light on, and Jinx is there, perched on your windowsill.  She swats away your oncoming jacket.  

“Close the window.” 

“You’re bossy.  Has anyone ever told you that?” she asks, twirling her hair around her fingers.  

She follows you into your bedroom and falls backward onto your bed.  She’s appeared in your apartment enough times that this is all routine, practically.  At least you’ve trained her to keep her boots off your bed.  

“Mhm,” you reply.

Your fingers are cold and slow moving as you unlace your shoes, tug them off, and throw them on top of your dresser.  You press your palm against the spot where you ear should be trying to warm it up.

“He sent you to make sure I didn’t trip up the stairs?” you ask, a little sarcastically but really, you’re somewhat flattered.

She groans and doesn’t answer you.  “He’s bossy too,” she whines.  

“He is.” 

You fall onto the bed next to her head.

“Did you know that you’re the only one he comes down to that shitty bar for?” 

“Mm?”  You only caught half of her sentence.

“He just sits in that chair and frowns.”

Jinx always makes enough conversation for both of you.  You wonder how often she fills in your parts herself.

It’s likely stupid of the thought to even cross your mind, but on these particularly cold nights when you are feeling particularly unlike yourself—when you are in pain and you crave what you shouldn’t have and your regrets feel the most potent—Silco feels particularly like a friend.  You almost scoff.  That’s a dangerous thought.

“If you’re sleeping here, you’re getting the light,” you tell Jinx.

— m. list

[zehrbear]

shigaraki didn't know shit about sex before he met you.

all he even "learned", if you could even call it that, were through doujinshis and hentais that he watched, or those really extreme porn videos. poor boy, was so isolated from the human contact experience and is so deprived of touch that he puts all his frustration in a porn addiction.

so then, enter you in the picture, and shigaraki is so clueless. he's saying how he doesn't need your help, but you knew that he did need it once he tried to insert his finger DRY in you. he didn't even know where the clit was! and once you pointed out, he tried to play it like a joystick.

absolutely not!

so there's now shigaraki, having sex education for the first time of his life with you, who's using your body was example. and he finds out that getting himself off can have multiple ways of doing so. even better, he can get you off in multiple ways.

he tries being a dom when he finally gets the chance to use his cock instead of his tongue and fingers like he's been training the past days with you, but he finds the sensation so overwhelming that he crumbles, he almost cries from how good it feels!

so yeah, you now have a whimpering tomura, who's panting and moaning like a bitch while you ride the life out of him. he does cum embarrassingly fast, but that doesn't even matter, because he's somehow still hard! look at that, is that the most frightening villain of the century? crying as you keep on riding his overstimulated cock? blabbing incoherently and barely being able to say anything besides your name?

he can't even think anymore, all has been reduced to obsessive thoughts. his hands travel your body without knowing where to put them. if you let him hold your tits as you almost break his hips from how hard you're riding? he could cum just from that.

he became submissive so fast with you that it's almost pathetic, but you're just as crazy as he is, so instead, it's endearing.

moonie… moonie wtf im shaking… SHAKING !!!

i can just imagine him on top of you, moving the way he thinks he’s supposed to after rotting his brain with porn and hentai, wondering why you haven’t squirted or gone cross eyed yet. he’d be all force and no technique, going fast while you just lay there wondering if this was really what all that talk was about. it would get to the point where you’d have to flip him over, your legs on either of his as you lower yourself onto his cock and ride him nice and slow. and its like agony and bliss had a baby and punched him in the face. he’d throw his head back, muttering something and clenching his teeth as he fights the urge to hammer his hips up against you. but you’re so warm and tight and it’s like you’re sucking the souls out of him with every lazy roll of your hips. he’d try to reach for you, to take control (if you could even call it that) only to be forced down by your hand pressed against his chest, keeping him in place as you begin to go faster… harder. he’d be so loud too, whining and whimpering and feelimg tears prick at the corners of his eyes because fuck, he didn’t know it could feel this good. not with his hands or his toys he might have spent a small fortune on… no, nothing could compare to the way you were clenching around him and milking him dry. he’d be dazed, his heavy lidded eyes glossed over and cheeks flushed, gray strands of hair sticking to his flushed, sweat glazed face as he pants before he finds you towering over him once more, your fingers spreading your cunt open and hovering over his lips. and it’s like hes gone dumb, the way he immediately opens up for you, his tongue sticking out for you to lower yourself onto and use while his hands fist into the sheets. he knows better than to reach for you. knows better than to act like he’s the one in control and risk having the euphoric feeling of your pussy on his tongue ripped from him.

only you could put tomura in his place like this <3

[schlatt-love-bot]

saw ur repost about giving schlatt head under the desk!!! we needdddd a fic of that!

Oooh, I absolutely love it!! Here comes a frustrated Schlatt who just needs a liiiittle bit of relief during his work day! 

IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! NSFW CONTENT!

____________________________________

“God fucking damn it!” A scream cried out from Schlatt’s office, hearing him grumble a few more profanities under his breath as you creaked open the door to your joint office. He had been in there all day, recording for his personal channels as well as earlier recording a podcast session for Sleep Deprived, where he took a very quick lunch break to tease you on the kitchen counter before telling you he needed to record this week’s episode of Chuckle Sandwich. Leaving you high and (not very) dry, you weren’t happy to say the least with hearing his groaning profanities coming from the office. Slipping in without him noticing, you could see Schlatt’s screen, where he was on a call with Tucker and Ted, and it seemed as though they were going over the results of each other’s personality test results. Schlatt had complained to you earlier in the week about how stupid he thought this topic was for the pod—he viewed his Meyers-Briggs results just like how he interpreted his zodiac signs and horoscopes, absolutely meaningless. 

“Listen, it’s not that I don’t like the results, that’s not it at all! I just don’t care! I don’t care what this stupid online quiz believes I am!” He ranted, running his hands through his hair before ultimately deciding to rest his hands in the palms of his hands. Through his headset, you could vaguely make out Ted giggling, and Tucker insisting that the only reason he was discontent with the results was because he didn’t like the way he was being portrayed. Seeing how genuinely pissed off he was slowly becoming, you knew it was time to intervene, in one of the only ways you knew how. 

Shutting the door as quietly as you could, Schlatt looked up, making eye contact with you. Quickly, you signalled him to keep quiet, circling to the other side of his desk. Confusion and frustration laced his eyes, which must’ve caused Ted to ask if everything was alright, since Schlatt hadn’t retorted to any of the teasing currently going on in the call for a moment. You squatted down, crawling through his organized cords to prop yourself on your knees underneath his desk, directly eye-level with his already semi-hard member. 

“Y-Yeah, I’m alright, everything’s good. Stupid cat was about to jump on my desk.” He grumbled, looking down towards you, knowing that he was about to find himself in some trouble. You slowly began to trace the outline of his girth through his readily-available sweatpants, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back. Without much time passing, he was already throbbing against the fabric of his sweatpants. Trying to contain himself on camera, he found himself leaning back in his desk chair, placing his arms behind his head. 

“Listen…all I’m saying is…” he tried to continue on as if you weren’t about to make him come in his pants, giving you an opportunity to slip your hands under his waistband to begin pulling them down. Instead of fighting back, he hopped himself up a bit in his seat, allowing you to slide his pants down with ease, his stiff cock already slapping up towards his stomach. Not being able to help yourself, you began to lick your lips as you locked eyes with Schlatt, who couldn’t look away. 

“Fuck…I’m so fucked…” he muttered under his breath as he watched your hands begin to pump up and down his length. He made sure to look up, making sure that Ted and Tucker didn’t catch on that something was indeed making him distracted from completing the podcast episode, though you knew in your mind that he wouldn’t be able to help himself once you got started. 

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t think any of this is shocking, that’s all. I’m bored because it’s–” he stopped mid-sentence from air being caught in his throat as you began to kitten lick his beet red tip, making sure to get every drop of precum off before giving him a kiss. You chuckled to yourself as you slowly began to drag your tongue from the base of his shaft near his balls all the way back up to his tip, making sure that he began to speak again before beginning to take the rest of him in your mouth, “i-it’s nothing…nothing new! This is all…all information I, I already know…” his voice began to trail off with a groan, as you began to take as much of his cock into your mouth as you could fit. His eyes, hooded with lust, looked down towards you as he saw you snake your free hand, the one not simultaneously pumping whatever couldn’t fit into your mouth, down your own lazy day pajama shorts, making figure eights on your clit so you would get your own pleasure during Schlatt’s torture. 

“Oh my fucking…oh my fucking god.” He let out a grumble from the back of his throat, trying his best to maintain his composure on his podcast as he got closer and closer to his release. Seeing him crumble under your tongue made you moan harder against his cock, quickening your pace with your tongue and hands. Schlatt managed to take his hand that was squeezing his thigh in an attempt to regain his composure down to your hair, grasping as much of it as he could before pulling hard. The pull itself caused you to moan, but the force alone caused your mouth to come off of his cock with a slight “pop,” saliva strings connecting your swollen lips to his still swollen tip. His eyes told you to finish him off, but he began to push himself back from his desk slightly before clearing his throat.

“Guys…I hate to do this…something, something has literally come..up…I need to hop off the pod to deal with some, business. As soon as I’m finished, I will message you both and I’ll be back.” He quickly stumbled over his words as he logged off his computer, making sure all of his tabs were closed and the computer was shut off before he pulled you out from under his desk.

“Now, toots, you’re going to suck me off until I come down your throat, and then you’re going to explain to me what the fuck you were thinking, coming in and sucking me off like that while I was working. I knew you were a little cum slut, but I didn’t think you were that needy.” He groaned, pushing your head back down on his cock, bucking his hips up into your mouth, ensuring that you were taking all of his cock down your throat as tears welled up in your eyes. He wouldn’t lessen the grip he had on your hair, not letting you up for air, as he mumbled profanities towards you. 

“Little slut, thinking you can come in here and get me to stop working…you’ve gotten what you wanted…I hope you can handle it.” He groaned, his hips beginning to buck sloppily as you knew he was nearing the edge. You snuck one of your hands up towards his sack, taking it in your fingertips before fondling it a bit, hoping to speed up his release. 

“Fuck, (Y/N)!” He groaned, his hot seed funneling down your throat, letting go of the back of your head. You slowly pulled your mouth from his cock, sitting back on your knees to swallow the rest of his load that remained in his mouth, dazed from having been fucked in the face a little too hard. Schlatt began to pull you up from the floor, pulling your shorts down in the process, so your went cunt sat directly on top of his now semi-flacid, worn out cock. 

“Princess, please. Enthuse me. What the fuck were you thinking?” He said, hand gripping your jaw to make sure you were looking at him, as he took his other hand to your folds, finding and beginning to play with your clit. Missing his touch, you let out a hiss before his motions stopped. “Answer me, princess.” 

“I…I…” you struggled to get your thoughts out, still being dick drunk as he began to slide his fingers in and out of you. “I heard how…frustrated you sounded on your call…figured I’d help…release some of your stress.” You managed to get out, as Schlatt nodded his head, quickening his pace as his fingers found your clit once more. 

“Oh yeah? Is that it? You definitely didn’t want to distract me from my work, right? Make me pause my last session of the day so you could get your quick fuck in, right? Make me absolutely lose my mind on camera, so you can watch later and relive the dirty memories only you and I share, right?” Every time he questioned your motive, he pressed harder on your clit, making you buck your hips against his hand, letting out a mewl from the back of your throat. 

“No! No Schlatt, I just…I wanted you to be satisfied!” You groaned as he took his hand away from your clit, picking you up and setting you face down on the bed next to his recording desk. 

“Mmmmm, well, princess, you certainly did satisfy me. Now’s my turn to satisfy you before I have to finish working, okay?” He asked, taking the tip of his dick to rub up and down your folds. Before you had a chance to respond, he began to plow into you, snaking his hands to your front, one to fondle your breast under your t-shirt, the other to reconnect with your clit, in hopes to overstimulate you. 

“Oh, shit, fuck, Schlatt…!” You couldn’t manage to think straight, your senses being overburdened from the simultaneous stimulation you were receiving all over your body. Schlatt ducked his head down in the crook of your neck, biting your earlobe before groaning in your ear, causing you to let out a moan you didn’t realize you were holding back.

“There we go, princess, let me hear just how good you’re feeling.” He groaned, nipping at your neck as his thrusts began to get sloppy. 

“Oh, Schlatt, oh, you’re doing so good…” you started to praise, feeling the familiar warmth beginning to brew in the pit of your stomach, “fuck, think I’m gonna come..” 

“Let it out baby, let me feel you come all over my cock…” He groaned, the moment he allowed you to release to felt yourself coming, feeling him pull out his cock to come on your back. Schlatt stood back for a moment, admiring how undone he made you, a mixture of his and your own come dripping down your thigh. He reached over to the nightstand he kept in the room (just in case of quickie moments such as this) to retrieve a cleanup cloth, making sure to be careful around your sensitive, swollen folds. 

Sitting back in his desk chair, he patted his lap, signalling you to come over and join him. You managed to stand, waddling over to him before straddling his lap once more. 

“As much as I loved that, toots, you can’t just interrupt my work like that.” He let out a low chuckle, turning his computer back on. 

“Sorry, just needed you, and could see how badly you needed some release..” you mumbled out, the post-come sleep beginning to hit your eyes.

“Listen, princess. Let me finish this, and then I’ll be back to take good care of you, okay?” He says, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began to carry you back to your bedroom. Setting you down, he covered your body with the blanket on the bed before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. You nodded your head in a “yes,” knowing damn well by the time he was done recording, you would most certainly be passed out in bed. Schlatt let out a chuckle before turning off the lights, leaving you to rest from the ride your pussy just received. 

[crushedsweets]

im so curious how it would play out in the hypothetical, unlikely situation that toby does read that letter/ connie catches him some how

i like that you specify hypothetical/unlikely cuz you know my annoying ass would be like "tbh im not sure it would happen cuz xyz" LMFAOOOOOOOOO.

anyhow. in the TOTALLY POSSIBLE situation that toby read the letter(smth adjacent to "i love you, i care for you, i forgive you, im sorry for everything, youre still my baby, take care of yourself") i think he might cave. wait for a day connie visits lyras grave and anxiously walk towards her. all quiet, giving himself time to change his mind. he tics and catches her attention - no choice but to say hi now.

immediately she'd start bawling, crumpling to the ground and wailing out apologies and pleas and asking him where he's been, what he's been doing, has he been safe. in every other situation, toby tries so hard to be strong and put up a facade of arrogance, sadism, carelessness. but i think if he saw connie like that (years after killing his dad, when he's developed a stronger support system and improved his mental health) he'd start crying too. kneel down in front of her and try hugging her, something about "stop that mom stop stand up please stop crying stand up please" and choke out the saddest laugh in the entire world when she cries about how he's gotten so big and his voice has gotten so deep.

i think she'd be able to convince him to come sit in the car with her and talk. she'd be impossible to console, holding his hand and crying. she'd calm down, and then look at how tired he looks, start crying again. calm down, see that he still wears lyras necklace, cry again. etc etc. eventually she'd exhaust herself and actually maintain a conversation with him, but it would mostly be toby being like "i just cant talk about it, but i promise im doing good ma. i got friends, really good friends" and skirting around a lot of her questions. he'd forget to ask her questions, because he stalked her enough to know most of the answers, but she wouldnt mind.

neither of them want to talk about frank, and if she even tried bringing him up, toby would cut her off and insist they dont need to talk about it. he'd struggle with it a lot, MAYBE coughing up an apology for widowing connie, but he's not sorry about killing frank and he's trying not to tell her that. so he rather avoid it entirely.

she'd try to ask him to stay, but he'd be like ??? r u serious. and shed be like okay. youre right. im sorry. and i think thatd kill him a little, watching her apologize to him like that.

in a nicer world, he'd give her a phone number to call and they'd keep in contact. but toby is more likely to tell her he cant keep in touch(he'd make up an excuse, refuse to tell her its cuz he's scared she'll call the cops, even if he wants to trust her).

anyhow. um. um. shakes your hand. im tired n the rogers family hurts my soul