#and if I say he’s literally everything to me?

[a-most-beloved-fool]

i got sent to in-school-suspension because i was thirsty <3 it was stupid <3

what's the most demented thing you guys got in trouble for in school mine was when an english boy in my class made fun of my name and called my mum a (derogatory word for irish travellers) so i told him my ira uncle was in town and was coming to blow him up after school

[theemporium]

[6.1k] most of the league welcome a bye week as all-stars hits the season calendar. with both brothers picked and the rest of the boys on the team flying out somewhere warm for the break, luke has a decision to make. and that decision ends up being a staycation in new jersey with you—not that anyone else in his life really understand why. (smut)

series masterlist

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“Whoever is in charge of this schedule sounds like a sadist.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah!” You repeated with a small huff, staring down at your phone screen where—he presumed—you were looking at the Devils’ game schedule. “Surely there’s a better way than playing, like, three back to backs in such a short time span.” 

“It’s hockey,” Luke shrugged, like that somehow explained everything. “It’s just how it is. How it’s always been, to be honest.” 

“This makes no sense,” you grumbled, your eyes narrowed in distaste. “You literally played four games last week! Four! In the space of six days!” 

Luke snorted. “Yeah, Cherry, I’m fully aware. I was at the games. Playing.” 

You shot him a look before letting your brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it.” 

“The schedule?” Luke asked. 

“No, the hockey player sex god stereotype,” you retorted. “How the hell do they find the time to even have sex? How the hell do they have the energy to even have sex?”

Luke tried—and mostly failed—to bite back his grin. “That’s your big question about hockey players?” 

“Yes,” you deadpanned. “I know you are professionals and all but surely this is a bit ridiculous.”

“Hockey is hockey,” Luke answered, shrugging once again. “It’s just always how it’s been.” 

“So, hockey players are sex gods and sadists,” you muttered to yourself, your focus back on your phone screen. “Good to know.” 

Luke only laughed in response. 

“I don’t get why they don’t just move some of the games to the first week in February,” you pointed out. “You have nothing on then.” 

“Because that���s when All-Stars is,” Luke answered. “They send a bunch of guys from different teams to compete in these challenges and stuff.” 

“Like the Hunger Games?” 

“I—” Luke’s nose scrunched up. “Yeah, but less death and violence. People usually stay nice for it.” 

“Have you been reaped?” You questioned, grinning a little. 

Luke rolled his eyes. “No, I have not. They choose the best.” 

You frowned. “You are the best. You’re the best hockey player I know.” 

Luke shot you a look. “I’m the only hockey player you know.” 

“Semantics,” you waved him off. “My point still stands.” 

“No, I get something better,” he stated. “I get a week off.”

You grinned. “Big plans?” 

Luke shrugged. “Honestly, I was just looking forward to a week without Jack banging on my door for morning skate.”

“So you’re going to spend the week hibernating,” you teased, lightly nudging his thigh with your foot. But before you could pull your foot back, Luke had grabbed your ankle and easily maneuvered your feet onto his lap. “God, I’ll need to find someone else to cook for me for a week then.” 

And the thing is that Luke knew you were just teasing. For all his claims of being a great cook (which he was, just in the few meals he actually knew how to cook), he had grown into a comfortable habit with you. He enjoyed spending time at your place. He enjoyed unwinding after bad games or grueling practices. He just enjoyed being around you, both before and after his recent realisation of his feelings. 

But now he was staring at you from across the couch, watching the way you were lounging in one of his old Michigan sweatshirts and just felt that overwhelming urge to say something stupid. 

Instead, he settled on, “you should come over.” 

You paused, raising your brows. “Come over where?” 

“To my place,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Jack will be gone and I’ll have the place to myself. We can just—” He paused, his brain going blank at the sight of your amused expression. “Chill.” 

“Chill?” You repeated, grinning.

“Chill,” he nodded, squeezing your ankle. “Just…I feel like…I’m always imposing in your space, you know? You can impose in my space too.” 

“You are a weird guy, Hughes,” you commented, though Luke liked to think you sounded fond when you spoke. 

“Is that a no?” He asked before he could help himself.

You beamed in response. “It’s not a no.” 

He felt something quite like hope spark in his chest. “So, it’s a yes?” 

“Depends,” your eyes glinted. “Are you still Team Stefan? Because if the answer is yes, I will have to decline.” 

Luke groaned. “I said that after we watched, like, three episodes! Stop holding that over my head!” 

…

“This sucks!” 

“Yes, it sucks so much being acknowledged for your skills,” Dawson deadpanned, watching the way Jack wandered around the locker room after practice, whining and complaining about everyone else making their Bye Week plans.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jack huffed, narrowing his eyes at the boy before shifting his attention to Nico, eyes wide and hopeful. “Take me with you? I want to go somewhere warm. I want to go somewhere where the chances of freezing my balls off are lower than zero.” 

“Dude,” Nate scrunched his nose, laughing. “We play ice hockey for a living, you can handle a bit of cold.” 

“Suck it up, superstar,” Curtis called out with a huge grin. “Gotta pay up for having the Hughes name on the back of your jersey.” 

“Moose lucked out,” Jack sighed. “I have Quinn and the bajillion Canucks players that are also going. I swear he rigged the thing.”

“Bajillion?” Nico repeated with a disgustingly fond expression.

“Bajillion,” Jack nodded. “There’s too many of them. No one needs that many Canucks in one place. It’s an infestation.”

“I’m surprised you even know what that word means,” Nate snorted. 

Jack glared. 

“You not going up to Toronto to support your brothers?” Dawson asked, turning his head to look over at Luke. However, the boy barely reacted. He repeated the question again, and one more time before finally throwing a ball of rolled up tape at the side of Luke’s head.

Luke tore his eyes away from his phone, snapping his head up to find half the locker room already staring at him. “What? What did I miss?” 

“Jack complaining about All Stars,” Curtis answered.

“Oh,” Luke blinked. “So nothing new then?” 

“You're not going to Toronto?” Nico asked this time, before Curtis could say whatever witty response he had ready to go.

“Uh, no,” Luke shook his head. 

“Scared you’ll steal their thunder?” Nate joked, patting Luke’s shoulder as he walked past to get to his stall. 

Jack snorted. “He thinks he’s too cool for Toronto. Probably following John to wherever the hell he is going.” 

John’s ears perked, turning whilst he was still removing some of his gear. “What? Luke said he didn’t want to come with us.” 

Jack paused, frowning a little before turning to Luke. “You’re not going away for the week?” 

Luke could feel his cheeks burning up. “No?” 

Jack’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“At least he also won’t be somewhere warm,” Nico stepped in, a hand on Jack’s shoulder providing more than enough distraction from Jack asking questions as he turned to look at Nico with the embarrassingly obvious heart eyes he has always had for the captain.

It gave Luke the short reprieve he wanted, avoiding the other curious looks he was getting as he glanced down at his phone screen for a moment, grinning at the messages before he locked it and put it back in his bag so he could finish getting changed.

cherry🍒: i hope you know that i am using this opportunity to steal as many of your hoodies as i can before the week is over 

cherry🍒: consider this your one and only warning

…

It was surprisingly easy to prevent Jack from asking any more questions. 

A little too easy, if Luke was being honest. 

But Luke was also not an idiot so he didn’t question Jack’s silence after he mentioned a friend would be staying with Luke for the week. Jack had just stared blankly for a few moments before laughing, shaking his head and walking out the room, muttering something about needing to stop by Nico’s after he finished packing. Luke took it as the blessing it was and didn’t bring it up again.

Truthfully, it didn’t hit Luke how insane it felt to have you with him the whole week until he was running around the apartment, cleaning up whatever he could before his phone began ringing from the other room.

“Dude, you have shit timing.” 

Ethan laughed on the other side of the phone. “You’ve been ignoring me! I feel abandoned. What happened to the Luke who said he missed me?” 

“I never said that,” Luke retorted.

“Rude,” Ethan huffed. “Why do you sound so out of breath? Were you training or something?” 

“Nah, just tidying the place up,” Luke replied absentmindedly, staring at the hoodie he picked up on the floor with a frown. If he was being honest, he didn’t know if it was his or Jack’s, and usually he didn’t care. But the image of you wearing it thinking it belonged to him when in reality it was Jack’s passed his mind and he quickly shoved it into the washing basket. That would be a problem he dealt with later.

“Ugh, don’t even,” Ethan whined on the other side of the phone. “I’m so jealous, dude. I would kill to be on a beach somewhere right now.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke muttered as he continued to pick up a few empty bottles of gatorade on the coffee table before pausing. “Wait, what? What the fuck are you on about? Who’s going to the beach?” 

Ethan sounded just as confused on the other side. “You?” 

“No, I’m not?” Luke replied, frowning. “I just told you, I’m at my place.” 

“Yeah, because you are tidying up before you fly out somewhere. For Bye Week.”

“Who told you that?”

“I thought it was obvious? Why the fuck would you not be flying out somewhere?” 

And honestly, Luke didn’t have much of a comeback for that one. Because to everyone else, it did seem weird. He knew that. He gathered as much from the rest of the boys’ reactions in the locker room the other day. He gathered it from Jack’s reaction and Quinn’s message (‘wtf rusty’) when he broke the news in the brothers group chat. 

He knew. 

But somehow trying to justify it to one of his best friends over the phone made him realise how fucking dodgy it sounded when none of them really knew about you.

“So, let me get this straight.” 

Luke let out a deep sigh.

“You declined on going up to Toronto with your brothers because you didn’t want to impose, or whatever dumb shit you said, and let them enjoy All-Stars.” 

“Yes.” 

“And then you had the offer to go to Cabo and the Bahamas with teammates, which you also declined.” 

“Mhm.” 

“And then you decided to stay in New Jersey instead of even visiting us up in Michigan with your week off?” 

“Yup.”

“Dude,” Ethan squawked, offended and confused and downright discombobulated. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have a concussion? Is this like a mid-season breakdown? Do I need to call for help?” 

Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re always so dramatic.”

“I think I am being perfectly reasonable here.” 

Luke disagreed—majorly—but he valued his life so he stayed silent.

“You’re gonna get so bored staying in Jersey all week,” Ethan pointed out. “What are you even gonna do?” 

Luke opened his mouth to reply just as the buzzer sounded through the apartment. If anyone asked, he would deny the way his face instantly broke out into a smile. 

“Sleep my ass off. It’s hard being in the NHL,” Luke said in the snobbiest voice he could, letting Ethan cackle on the other side and try to get another word in before he spoke up again. “Look, I gotta run, I’ll call you later. Promise.” 

“He plays in the big leagues and thinks he’s so much better than us.” 

“I am better than you,” Luke grinned. “I remember winning beer pong.” 

“That doesn’t fucking count! Mark was the one who—” 

“Bye, Ethan!” 

Luke couldn’t hang up and rush to open the door fast enough. 

…

Deep down, he knew it was stupid for him to feel nervous about you staying over at his place for the week. 

He had stayed over at yours more times than he could count on one hand. You had become an integral part of his life in New Jersey. You were one of his closest friends. He knew you. He knew you knew him. There should have been nothing that made the week weird. 

But he couldn’t help but feel like it meant more. This was him inviting you to stay over for a few days, to stay at his place whilst his brother was out of town, to spend the week with him when he should be resting and drinking some overpriced cocktail on a beach somewhere warm. 

You were his friend but spending his whole stay-cation with him in his apartment like the two of you were playing house was something far from platonic. 

It was a bit of a mindfuck, but not as much as realising just how fucking easy it all was.

It was different from the various nights he spent at your apartment. It was different seeing you in his space, fitting into his life so easily. It was different seeing you relaxed and laid back, looking like you belonged. 

It was different from the night at his birthday party, where you were one of many faces. It was just you and him, standing in his kitchen or sitting on his couch or lying in his bed. It felt so different but so fucking good. 

Only a few days had passed and yet Luke forgot a time where you weren’t here, where you weren’t by his side throughout the whole day. 

It was dangerous but the warning signs were easy to ignore when his attention was fully focused on you.

“Are you calling me lanky?” 

“It was a compliment!” You insisted, but there was a smile on your face—not that he could see, considering your face was currently pressed against his chest as the two of you laid on the couch to watch the fastest skater skill event. “You would do well in this challenge. It would take you, like, five less strides than the rest of them.”

Luke snorted. “Geez, thanks.” 

“You’ll see,” you murmured, nuzzling your head further into his chest. “You’ll do it one day and win and know that I’m right.”

“And then you’ll tell me ‘I told you so’?” Luke guessed, his eyes now on you rather than the tv screen. 

“Obviously,” you replied, lifting your head so your chin was resting on the spot your cheek was squished against moments ago. “I’m always right, Hughes. The sooner you accept that fact, the easier your life will be.” 

Luke raised his brows in amusement. “So when you very confidently said that you loved that movie where Andrew Garfield played Batman—” 

“Shut up,” you groaned, lightly pinching his side but he quickly caught your hand. “We were watching Twilight! I was thinking about Robert Pattinson! I got confused!” 

“Uh huh,” Luke beamed. “Just always so right—”

“You’re being a dick,” you huffed, even if you were smiling. “Here I was trying to give you a compliment—”

“By calling me lanky.”

“—and this is the thanks I get,” you shook your head. 

Luke’s expression softened, his hand reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you. “Thank you, Cherry. I appreciate the confidence.” 

“Confidence is sexy,” you retorted, your palms warm and comforting against his sides. “Soon you won’t need me to remind you.” 

“But I like when you say it,” Luke retorted.

“Professional athletes and their praise kinks,” you sighed, grinning a little when he reached down to pinch your side this time. 

“I’m the only professional athlete you know,” Luke pointed out, trying to ignore the twist in his stomach at the mere idea that maybe he wasn’t. That maybe you knew more, that maybe you had experience with more, that maybe they were far more experienced than him and—

“And you have a praise kink,” you said, interrupting his spiralling thoughts. “Therefore, my theory has not been disproved. I’m right.”

Luke’s cheeks burned hot. “I do not have a praise kink.”

You snorted, grinning as you lifted a hand to playfully squeeze his cheeks. “Aw, baby, you do and it’s hot. Don’t get all shy about it.”

“Whatever,” Luke murmured, turning his focus back to the tv instead of the growing smirk on your face. 

But the thought lingered in his mind even as the two of you continued to cuddle on the couch, watching whatever movie you had chosen after the All-Stars events ended. It picked at his brain, chipping away at the self-restraint he had to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the night until the two of you were getting ready for bed. 

He was lingering by the doorway, watching you get your side of the bed (because apparently that was also something that came easily to the two of you) ready before you climbed into bed. And before he could stop himself, he was already blurting out the words that were on the tip of his tongue for most of the night.

“Do you really think the praise kink thing is hot?” 

His cheeks were already blushy and pink and hot when you turned your head to look at him.

“How long have you been wanting to ask that?” You asked, something lighthearted and teasing in your voice that was oddly reassuring. You didn’t think he was a freak for asking. Not that he ever assumed you would judge him, you both were far from that point. 

“Does it change your answer?” He asked, not sounding half as confident as he wanted to. 

Your smile softened a little as you walked around the bed and towards him. You tilted your head back once you were in front of him, watching him with a look he couldn’t quite work out. 

Luke swallowed a little.

“It doesn’t change my answer,” you answered honestly. 

Luke could feel something in his chest tighten. “And what’s your answer?” 

“I think it’s hot,” you told him, saying it so casually as though the two of you were discussing the weather. “I think everyone has a praise kink to some extent but…”

Luke could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “But?” 

“But it’s different with you,” you said, your fingers lightly skimming against his stomach before curling around the hem of his shirt. “You’re so…responsive. It’s hot.” 

His body twitched, like his skin was too tight for his body. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling a little before using the grasp on his shirt to tug him closer and close the distance between you both. Not that there was much.

Luke was almost embarrassed by the noise he made the second your lips were on his, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as you used the leverage against him. He ducked his head down, trying to chase your lips as you continued to tease him and tempt him. He barely realised his feet were moving until the back of your knees hit the bed and you pulled back to look at him. 

“So pretty,” you murmured, close enough to hear the way his breath hitched before you moved down onto the bed, with your grasp on his shirt enough to drag him down with you. 

It was far from sexy, if Luke was being honest. An awkward maneuver of too many limbs and shuffling up the bed that should have ruined the moment, but it didn’t. Because it was you and you were laughing and smiling and snorting when Luke almost decked it on top of you after he got his foot stuck. You made it feel so normal. Like it was all just a part of the charm. 

Maybe it was. Maybe feeling safe enough to be human and imperfect was a part of the charm. 

Because despite the uncoordinated and clumsy scrambling onto the bed, you were still looking at him like you wanted to see how pink his cheeks could turn.

Luke barely put up a fight when you pulled him back down, happily following your movements as he settled between your legs and let you wind your arms around his neck so his nose was brushing against yours before you leaned in to kiss him again. 

Unlike a lot of the other makeout sessions the two of you had, there was no rush. There was no lingering adrenaline from a game he wanted to work off or some bad plays he wanted to forget. There were no teasing messages or risky phone calls that were building up to this moment. There was absolutely nothing but just the two of you lying in his bed, making out because you wanted to. 

Because you wanted to kiss him and he wanted to kiss you. Because you enjoyed the weight of him on top of you and he enjoyed the way your fingers entangled themselves in his curls. Because for reasons that were beyond his understanding, you wanted this as much as he did.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his tongue lightly skimming over the area of his bottom lip you nipped with your teeth.

You smiled up at him. “See? So responsive. It’s cute.” 

He swallowed. “Cute?”

“Cute, hot, sexy, whatever word you want to use, pretty boy,” you murmured, one hand sliding down to cup his face as your thumb skimmed over the apple of his cheek. “All I know is that I like the noises you make.” 

Luke responded by leaning back down, kissing you because he could, because he wanted to, because he liked the way your laugh vibrated against his lips before you kissed back.

But whatever control Luke thought he had on himself when he was with you quickly dwindled as you pulled him closer, letting his body fall on top of you and let your thighs squeeze his sides until he was rocking his hips against yours, until he was practically panting between kisses.

“Mmm,” you hummed, pressing one, two, three pecks against his lips before your lips traced along his cheek and down his jaw. “That’s it, baby. I can feel how much you like this. S’cute how worked up you get just making out.”

“You’re hot,” he gasped out, like it was self-explanatory. Like it justified why he could feel his dick twitching in his sweatpants, probably already making a mess that he would pretend didn’t embarrass him as much as it did.

Your smile was softer, your hand on his face feeling more intimate as you guided his eyes to meet yours. “I think,” you started, your thumb lightly tracing down his cheek and skimming his bottom lip. “You’re hot too. And that you can come like this. Make a mess f’me.” 

And fuck, he could.

It wouldn’t be the first time he did, helplessly grinding against you whilst you kissed him and praised him and made his head fucking spin before he was coming harder than he really should be able to from a simple act. He could lean down, press his lips against yours and slide his tongue against yours and feel the way you cling onto him as he comes. He could do it. 

But there was a buzzing voice in the back of his head, getting louder and louder until—

“I bought condoms.” 

He could see the initial surprise on your face as you processed the words he just blurted out, the eyes locked on his kiss-swollen lips shifting to look up and watch the way he squirmed under the realisation of his words. He watched the way you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes narrowing slightly like you were observing him, keeping on edge until he spoke.

“You bought condoms,” you repeated, trying and failing to keep the smile off your face. “Big plans for this week?” 

“I—” Luke’s face burned. “That wasn’t… didn’t mean…I was just—” 

“Luke,” you said in a softer voice, your smile faltering a little into something more sincere. “M’only teasing.” 

“Okay,” he whispered, a knot twisting in his stomach with every passing second. He swore he was moments away from just exploding out of pure embarrassment or something just as humiliating. 

“Breathe for me,” you murmured, smiling a little when he let out a shaky breath. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Just because you bought them, doesn’t mean we have to do anything with them just yet.”

Luke swallowed, his whole body thrumming as he replied. “I…I want to.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, his brows furrowing slightly. “Only if you want to, too. Because consent is sexy, you know.”

You laughed a little, both hands now cupping his face so your eyes could meet his. “I do, if you want this. If you’re ready.” 

“It is,” he whispered, nodding again. “I trust you, Cherry. I want this. With you.” 

“Okay,” you whispered before kissing him again, slow and sure and content. 

It made him feel a little less like his skin was shrinking all over his body.

And you kept kissing him until his body didn’t feel so tense, until he didn’t feel like a wooden plank on top of you, until he was relaxed and making those little noises between kisses that let you know he wasn’t as nervous as before. 

You kept kissing him as you lightly nudged him back, letting him lean back on his knees until he was straddling your body, giving him enough movement to lean over and scramble through his nightstand until he found the unopened box of condoms.

He tried to tear the plastic covering over the box off, tried to peel it away but his hands were shaking more than he liked and his heart was pounding in his chest and—

“Hey, relax,” you murmured softly, sitting up and taking the box from his hands with little fight from him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a sheepish smile. “Nerves, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” you promised. “You know we can stop at any time, just say the word.” 

He swallowed harshly. “No, I do—”

“I know,” you smiled. “But I also want you to know that.” 

“Only if you do too,” Luke responded, looking completely serious as he said it. “If you want to stop at any moment too, you have to say something too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this with me because it’s my…first time or whatever.”

“I promise,” you smiled before nudging him back, until he was settled with his back against the headboard and you were on his lap. “Don’t worry about the condoms right now, okay? Just focus on me.” 

And Luke did.

Because, in complete honesty, it was very easy to ignore the box of condoms and the bubbling nerves and the growing realisation of what was about to happen. The voice in the back of his head saying ‘oh fuck, this is it’ was barely a whisper when his focus was on you. 

It was easy to get lost in the familiarity of you. He was used to this. He was used to you sitting on his lap, straddling his thighs and kissing him senseless. He was used to you dragging your shirt over your head and throwing it to the side. He was used to you tugging his sweatpants down and letting your own follow and guiding his hand between your legs whilst you whispered filthy things against his lips. 

He was used to the way you always targeted the spot just behind his ear, blowing cool air until he physically shivered. He was used to the way your eyes fluttered shut when his thumb lightly skimmed across your nipple. He was used to choking out a breathless moan whenever your thumb slid along the slit on the head of his cock. He was used to the way you tugged on his hair when you were close, letting the dull pain throb wonderfully at the base of his skull whilst you pressed your face against his shoulder. 

You were right, all those weeks ago back at the start of the season, when you said he needed to build up to this moment. You were right about the different experiences and experiments the two of you had tried and tested over the last few months. You were right when you said it was just like practicing hockey. 

It felt a bit fucking poetic and pathetic to compare his sex life to hockey right now, but he got it. 

The same nerves that bubbled up before his first NHL game were no different. Because even though he had played hockey his whole life, it still felt nerve-wracking to play in the NHL. And even though he had spent the last few months doing so much with you, it was still kind of daunting to know it was all leading up to this.

But just like his first NHL game, it just felt right. 

You felt right. 

This whole moment felt right. 

Luke knew he was not like his friends or teammates. He had spent years growing up with locker room talk, hearing about random hookups in the backseat of a car or halfhearted blowjobs in a bar bathroom. He heard about one night stands and casual flings and situationships that tended to go sour. He had heard it all and it was unsettling to imagine that was the future waiting for him. 

But it wasn’t. 

And it felt a bit comforting to know that he never had to look back on this experience and regret the person he was with or where he was or whatever stupid risk it could cause his career. All he had to think about was him and you and the way you were looking just as affected and turned on as he was right now.

“You still sure?” You whispered, soft and comforting and so fucking caring, it made his throat feel a little tight. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling a little as he leaned in to kiss you again to emphasise his point. “I trust you. I want this with you.” 

You smiled, still looking so fucking genuine before you leaned over to grab the box of condoms, removing the plastic peel with an ease he was only slightly jealous of. He watched you grab a small foil packet, glancing at him every few seconds like you were waiting for him to jump back on his decision.

“I trust you,” he repeated, confident and sure. 

His hands laid on your legs as you tore open the foil packet. His hands squeezed the fat of your thighs as you rolled the condom on him, stroking him a few times until he was bucking into your touch. His hands were on your waist, supportive and guiding as you slowly sunk down onto his cock. 

“Shit,” Luke breathed out, his breath shaky and gasping. “Shit.”

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, one hand on his shoulder and the other gripping the back of his neck. “I—fuck—I’ve got you.”

The squeeze of your walls around his cock made him want to close his eyes. It made him want to lean back against the headboard, keep his eyes closed and fucking bask in the feeling of you being so warm and tight and intense around him. But the desire to watch the way his cock disappeared into you was stronger, to watch the way your eyes fluttered shut and your lips parted as you settled fully on his lap. 

It was fucking memesiring watching the way you slowly lifted your hips and sunk down again. It made him feel like his head was spinning as he watched you continued to move, to sink up and down on his cock, to fuck yourself on his cock and moan his name and look into his eyes and—

“Can I—” He cut himself off, a pathetic and whiny noise leaving his lips when you squeezed around him. “Can I please—”

“Whatever you want,” you murmured, breathless and panting as you leaned in to kiss him like you needed it.

He let himself enjoy the kiss, to enjoy the feeling of being inside you and the weight of you on his lap and your lips on his before he moved. Before he reminded his brain that he can move, that he didn’t have to feel so boneless and helpless, as he shifted until the two of you had rolled over and you were beneath him and—

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, loud and shameless as he hooked an arm under your knee, lifting your leg out of the way enough for him to thrust back in as your head feel back against the pillow. “Shit, yes, like that.” 

For a second, it was hard to remember he was even in his own body as he watched you. It was fucking mesmerising as he watched you moan and whine beneath him, as he felt your nails digging into his skin and scratching down his back as you demanded him for more, as you muttered his name between pleas and begs and whimpers. 

Luke kind of wished this moment would last forever. 

Unfortunately for him, he was utterly weak when it came to you. Because you were pretty and sweet and you felt fucking unreal around him, and you were looking at him like he fucking meant something and—

It was so much. Too much. Just fucking enough. 

“I can’t—” He gasped out, his whole body feeling like it was buzzing alive as the knot in his stomach twisted tighter and his thrusts became sloppier. “I’m not gonna last long—”

“Come for me,” you breathed out, your hands cupping his cheeks as you wound your legs around his waist. “C’mon, Luke, wanna feel you come in me.” 

And well, he stood no fucking chance lasting after you said that to him.

He could have sworn his ears were ringing when he came. It was intense and overwhelming and disorienting and, fuck, it felt so good. He could feel his muscles tensing, his body rigid and shaking as his orgasm washed over him. He could feel the wave of pleasure rushing through him, leaving every fucking nerve in his body buzzing as he let himself enjoy the way you were squeezing him around him.

He felt like he was on cloud nine when you ran your hands through his curls, your lips against his ear whispering god knows what. But your voice was low and humming and comforting and he could feel his eyes slipping close to enjoy the sound of it. 

He could feel you running your hands over his body, feel the way every inch of skin was pressed against you, feel the way your legs were tightening around him like you didn’t want him to move just yet either. 

After the rush of adrenaline and pleasure, his body felt syrupy. His movements felt slow and unhurried, his thoughts felt like they were floating away. His brain felt fuzzy and pleased and content to just lay on the bed with you, bask in the feeling a little longer before the grossness and desire to clean up took over. 

Luke was more than happy to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, to close his eyes and let out a happy sigh and let himself relax after the really intense last few minutes the two of you had just experienced.

And if Luke was more awake, he would have noticed the way you tensed up the second he spoke. The way your eyes widened, the way your body instantly locked up, the way you went a little pale. 

If Luke was more awake, he would have been able to think twice before he spoke. 

But Luke wasn’t awake. He fell asleep after muttering the one thought that had been on his mind since New Years. 

He closed his eyes and slept like a fucking baby and woke up to an empty bed and an empty apartment and not a single sign of proof of the night before except the marks on his skin and the used condom lying on his bedroom floor. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” he had slurred into the crook of your neck, his voice barely louder than a rumble as the sleepiness really hit. 

If Luke was more awake, he would have stopped himself from completely fucking everything up. 

.

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton, p4

Masterpost late, tired, still emotional and physically fragile. please no editing <3

“—ir? Sir?”

Danny mumbled something incoherent that was supposed to be a response to that, or befuddlement about being called ‘sir’, or at least something better than ‘wadamehaaftz’. The bite of a tightening blood pressure cuff around his arm helped bring him a little be back to the world. He opened his eyes right into too bright light and winced back in reaction.

“Sir? Do you need us to call an ambulance?” the panicked looking barista asked. She was crouched down next to him where he lay on the floor.

Great, now he could never come back to this coffee shop. That was a damn shame, they had really good bagels.

“No,” Danny managed to make his mouth say. “Seizure. Newish thing for me. I’m fine—will be fine. Sorry.”

“Maybe you should stay laying down for a moment longer?” The barista suggested.

Danny hummed. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“Dude,” someone said off to Danny’s right. He didn’t think it was worth the effort to turn his head and look, “you just had a seizure. You were screaming. Like, I think we’re all okay if you lay there. We can step around you.”

There were murmurers of agreement.

“Okay, yeah, you know what, great,” Danny said and summoned the willpower to lift his hand and give there room a thumbs up. He let it drop listlessly back down onto his chest.

At least the floor was cool against his back. And he did feel a bit better not trying to get up immediately. When he finally pulled himself back up into his chair, the nice barista brought him a glass of ice water with a straw. Danny drank every drop of the first glass and a refill until the paper of the stupid straw started to turn to mush between his lips.

Knowing that he wouldn’t be up for doing much especially that day, Danny got a bagel sandwich to go, left a generous tip, and fled the cafe with his proverbial tail between his legs.

Penny was was at the apartment. She shoved a still warm load of banana bread at Danny as she bitched about her latest failed relationship. Apparently her girlfriend had been hooking up with the bouncer at their favorite bar. Not that Penny would have minded if they had talked through it before hand and Penny was allowed to join every now and again.

Which, fair, the bouncer did have amazing arms.

When Penny’s phone rang, blaring a dated pop song, Danny was able to make his escape with the added load of his two liter water bottle and bag of little oranges. Or not oranges—clementines? Tangelos? Whatever, little oranges.

He set everything down on the end of his bed before flinging himself onto it.

Another seizure. A worse one.

But a clearer vision of the ghost than he’d ever had before.

Groaning, Danny dragged himself to hang over the edge of his bed so he could pull out one of the storage cubes from under it. After a bit of shuffling, he got the one he wanted out from the back: a long ignored stack of art supplies. Danny rummaged around in it for a pencil and eraser before he pulled the sketchbook out from the bottom. He flipped past old game ides and idle doodles to find a blank page and started to work.

There was so much of the ghost that he still couldn’t define, but the more he worked at the sketch of the ghost’s face, the more he started to narrow it down.

Danny stared down at the page.

Overworked eyes stared back.

Feeling frustrated at how close it was, Danny grabbed a blue marker from the page and filled in the eyes carefully. Then, with almost irritated strokes, Danny roughly messed in the strikingly orange hair.

Now his ghost started back.

“Hello there…"

[ballerinarina]

naruto is actually a very bad written story that wants to show us that war isn't good only by creating characters with very sad stories sticks in this cycle of violence.

and i don't say bad written because of any technical aspect, no. it's because it's a purely political story with shallow views of politics. centric ones in the middle of such a radical context of governmental genocides and children being the military force.

the main character bases one of his main will of lifes about being a political leader, a politician, but he — which has always been in some way an opposition to the government, really being the only one supporting the pain of victims by truly listening and validating then — doesn't really mature his point of view.

it's childish. they want us to believe that simply choosing a better anti-war leader will solve the problems of a fascist system when it won't ever. a system revolution will.

(because, yes, that's what konoha is: a state which has been founded above the exclusion of a people, pruning their social powers accusing and pressing to a boiling social situation to the point where they erase every living drop of their blood. that's fascism.)

but we all know that's not what we have in naruto. they created very well the extreme product of their own fascism: sasuke. a child so broke he ends up a violent revolutionary.

and don't tell me that sasuke is not a revolutionary: he is. he makes it very clear in the end valley that his goal became to completely modify how the hokage system works, sacrificing his own happiness so that the rotten way the system worked would change.

i'm not saying he had a brilliant plan or was totally right. again, he was a kid, a very messed one who went down bad paths of terrorism before. but again, this is the consequence of actions and if anyone has to be held accountable it is konoha. fascism has consequences like this.

but what i'm saying is: naruto, who was slightly more sane, who questioned his whole life about konoha and being a hokage, ends up not learning that the problem was the system. the feudal military system remains even after danzou's death and the cleanse of the conseul seniors, the tobirama's ones.

sasuke ends up being “excused”, but never received real excuses or change. he was destroyed to the point where he was so mentally bad and suicidal that he gave up his revolution, even if he always had strong morals.

what changes has konoha had? a statue of itachi? big thing. what has improved in sasuke's life? sasuke spent his adult life working for redemption for a village that destroyed everyone he loved, everything he had and everything he was. he lost his babybirl growing up because of this.

besides, when i watched that robin hood boruto arch i was even more disappointed. in a unfair system, a discussion about taking from richs to give to the poors begins. everything socially indicates it's the most moral thing to do in this unmoral situation, when we literally have this multimilionaire company of a bad guy in konoha. until suddenly they reveal the leaders of the robbers were wicked.

when we have a too complex political trama in the hands of a poorly political person, we end up with a childish (which is different than for children), too optimistic and right center fake-progressist work.

then, for no reason, all the morality created (and reforced by naruto's words, actions and positions in this conflict, as the hokage) stabilizes and becomes the morality “both sides are wrong!” as if socially they were equivalent situations. they are not: one arises as a result of the other, as a response to survive. peace isn't the answer!

i deeply love the naruto characters and i love how some of the lore is created. i could talk for hours about other points that i consider just as serious and adult as this one. and that's why i'm so sad. and i understand that it is a children's story, but that only makes it worse because it is poorly written: they don't know how to write such a complex lore for children, or they don't have the balls to write such a heavy and adult lore for young people and adults.

that's why i hate naruto. it really makes me sad.

naruto isn't about who's morally right or wrong, it's about who's your favourite child soldier perpetuating the cycle of violence

[darlingdaisyfarm]

r you still open for requests? if so and if you havent done this, stan twins taking care of reader on their period? im on my period rn and i lowkey am craving for it,, /nf!!

❥ Stan & Ford taking care of you on your period headcanons <3

a/n: oh anon this one's for you and for everyone dealing with the struggle right now <333 may ur cramps be mild 🙏

STANLEY

★ “what do you mean you feel like garbage?? you were fine an hour ago! what happened?? who do I have to fight??” and when you explain, he just. OH. THAT.

★ “okay, okay, don’t freak out, but,” he digs around in some closet and pulls out a very old hot water bottle. “this thing got me through some rough winters. i hope this will, uh. . . stop the angry uterus thing.”

★ if anyone (Soos, Dipper, some poor clueless tourist) makes a dumb joke about “mood swings,” Stan will protect you. “oh, you think that’s funny? let’s see how funny it is when I lock you in the Mystery Shack bathroom for a week with no toilet paper!”

★ will not let you lift a finger. so worried about your state he physically shoves you back down if you try to do anything. “nope. nope, nuh-uh, baby, don’t even think about it.”

★ if you're dying from pain and nothing helps, he just holds you close while dramatically saying “oh sweetheart, if only nature was FAIR, it’d be me bleeding instead! why this world is so unfair????”

★ of course he buys you snacks. SO MANY SNACKS. he heard somewhere that chocolate helps, so now he’s bought four different brands of cheap chocolate bars from the gas station

“uh, i got these. one of ‘em’s gotta be the magic one, right?”

★ “old man Mcgucket says bark tea fixes everything. should we. . . should we try bark tea?”

★ once Stanley pulled out a beer and immediately regretted it. “. . . wait, no, that’s for me.”

★ ofc he cooks for you. he’s a big believer that food fixes all things, even if he doesn’t understand the science of it. makes you the heartiest, greasiest, most filling meal he can. you might not even want it but it’s the intent. it's the love. (and if you actually ask for something? he’ll make it with no hesitation)

★ you look even slightly like you’re in pain?? immediate concern. hunched over? “alright, that’s it, you’re going on the couch.” he literally herds you over with his hands on your shoulders, forces you to get comfortable. “c'mon, c'mon, up ya go. feet up. blanket on. there ya go.”

★ lovingly teases you when you cry over dumb stuff, but only a little. “you're cryin’ over a commercial? sweetie, c’mon.” wipes your tears anyway. kisses your forehead after.

★ grocery store trip. Stanley standing in the feminine hygiene aisle, he calls you from the store like, “baby, what the hell is ultra-thin? why are there WINGS on these? you gonna fly away or somethin’? :(”

★ i have a feeling he'll get the wrong ones. Stan comes home proud of himself only for you to be like Stan these are panty liners. he’s FLABBERGASTED. “they were in the same aisle!! they had the same stupid pink packaging!!”

★ eventually, he settles into his caretaking mode, ruffles your hair, makes bad jokes to make you laugh even when you feel awful. if you get emotional from the hormones he panics a little but ultimately just lets you cry on his shoulder and pats your back

★ mutters “alright, where’s it hurt, lemme at it.” then massages your lower back, rubs your stomach clumsily but gently. Stan is determined to physically get rid of your pain somehow even if that’s not how it works

★ makes you rest by putting on a movie and forcing you to stay put. he picks the weirdest mix of old action flicks, crime shows and one sappy romance he swears he doesn’t like. (he totally does.)

★ if you’re in pain he's gonna fix it. but since he can’t punch your uterus, he does the next best thing. distracts the hell outta you. "alright, sweetheart, what’s it gonna be? poker? tall tales? let's watch duck detective?”

you giggle. “Stan, just cuddle me.”

“oh, yeah, you got it, c’mere.” immediately pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his big arms around you, rocking his most precious thing in the world.

★ if you're up at 2 AM, restless from cramps, Stan notices immediately “owwh, doll, let’s getcha comfy.” guides you to the couch, sets you up with a blanket, turns on some quiet late-night TV. he stays up with you, spending sleepless night taking care of you. he sits there, rubbing your back, making sure you’re okay

in some hours more though, he falls asleep next to you, head leaning against yours

STANFORD

★ HE KNOWS BEFORE YOU DO. this man has studied interdimensional quantum phenomena. you think he hasn’t mapped out your cycle like a scientist mapping the tides???? PLEASE

“sweetheart, shouldn’t you be starting your period soon?”

“what? no?? I feel fine“ and twenty minutes later, you’re in pain

“ah. as I suspected.” Ford says

★ literally tracks it like a researcher. has a whole-ass journal with little notes. estimates symptoms, cravings, moods. he says it's because “I want to be prepared for you”.

you catch him writing in it one day. “Ford, what is that?”

he looks guilty and awkward. “a. . . documentation of your menstrual cycle?”

you take it, open it and your eyes widen. it got a whole-ass formula for predicting your moods

“wtf Ford, you made a menstrual algorithm??”

he rubs the back of his neck. “well, i wanted to ensure that i could be fully prepared for any and all symptoms—“

you’re just staring at the notes, not even listening to him. “did you seriously track that I crave sour candy more than chocolate???”

Ford pushes up his glasses. “i prefer to call it an empirical observation, yes.” next thing you do is kiss him senseless, because this nerd is the most devoted man on the planet

★ i assure you, he's already stocked up. you go to grab something and oh . . . heating pad? already plugged in. pain meds? already out on the counter. ur favorite snacks? somehow already bought. tea? brewing

★ of course! of course you'll get his lectures about periods. “did you know that menstrual cramps are caused by the uterus contracting due to prostaglandins? i read a fascinating study on ways to mitigate the pain—“ but let me tell you, he’s rambling because he’s nervous about you hurting. also because he thinks knowledge = comfort

★ his gentle hands, always. adjusting your blanket. rubbing slow circles into your back. fingertips ghosting over your forehead to check if you’re feverish

★ absolutely 100%, without a doubt, Ford takes notes on what helps you. if you ever say something like “ugh, this tea actually helps a lot” he writes that down. if you offhandedly mention “i think dark chocolate makes it better” he’s buying you ten bars of it next time.

★ he tries to keep you distracted. puts on old sci-fi movies and nerds out over them. reads aloud from a book if you want because he knows you love his voice

“did I ever tell you about the time I discovered a species that only reproduces once every ten years?” he just TALKS to you. calmly. thoughtfully. lets his voice carry you away from the pain.

★ he will stay up with you if you can’t sleep. even if he’s exhausted, even if he has research to do. if you’re in pain, he’s right there. “sleep, darling. I’ll stay up for a while. you need to rest.” strokes your hair until you do and presses a kiss to your temple when you finally drift off.

★ Ford can’t stand inefficiency. the first time he hears you complain about normal period products, he rubbed his chin, thinking. you’re uncomfortable??? with a problem that science could potentially solve???

“hmph. there must be a better way.” he disappears into his lab for hours.

★ what he makes depends on what you complain about! hate pads? “ah. they’re inefficient, bulky and uncomfortable. yes, darling, I see the flaws.”

hate tampons? “too absorbent, prone to leaking at unpredictable rates. . . fascinating, but flawed.”

cramps?? “prostaglandin-induced muscle contractions. I can work with this!”

no problem is too small. he listens to every complaint

★ “i will revolutionise menstruation, darling!” you're so proud of him. Ford is proud of himself too

★ normally, he treats you like his equal, his partner, his greatest love. but when you’re sick ohh he secretly loves having an excuse to baby you. he brings you tea and tests the temperature on his wrist before handing it over. he fluffs your pillows, tucks you in way too snug. if you groan in pain, he’s immediately alert. “what is it? what do you need? tell me, dearest, I’ll get it.”

i can't believe i wrote an entire fic from Ford's pov journaling reader's cycle, im going insane

[vxlentinescookies]

Ajax listen,,,,listen to me Ajax-

Self Aware AU, where the cookies come to the player's/reader's world. Pick whichever characters you wanna include, I just need to see this 🙏

→ ❛Part of your world❜

→ Characters ; Longan Dragon Cookie, Burning Spice Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie & Millennial Tree Cookie → Quote ; ❛❛If someone came to you and told you “One day you’ll have those who you love the most in the palm of your hand”, well… you never thought that’d become true, nor that it’d be a metaphor…❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons/Drabble → A/N ; This took me a whole ass night to make and 2500+ words to finish, I hope you like it /lh

Longan Dragon Cookie

“How quaint… to believe someone like you lives in such a… small place”

Having Longan Dragon in your home was… curious to say the least. Not something you expected, yet here you were, with a dragon looking at you as they squatted in your bedroom.

Longan would be hypercritical of the place you lived, noting things like “This looks cheap” or “Its far too small”

Despite that, Longan would be quite intrigued in your life, wanting to see how you worked or what you did, they’d follow you around when not sitting in your living room and meditating.

Nevertheless, they’re there for a reason, they’re with you for a reason, and they’ll make that reason known very, very soon.

It’d take Longan a few months, but eventually, they would come to sit by your side at the table, not sitting down on a chair but instead, sitting down by your side quite literally. They’d stare at you for long moments before finally leaning their head on your shoulder, the weight catching you off guard as you looked at them. 

“... I’ll make sure you live like you deserve one of these days” They’d say, and in that moment, you understood why there had been so many disappearances of delinquents and robbers nearby…

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

One of the few favorite activities of Longan was to read, so much so, that you had to request books from the library more often than not, but with the way Longan was reading them… It had just been a few months, and yet this dragon had consumed almost all of your local library’s books.  So, when they finished reading most of your books, they’d chose to write them. And they’d write about what they saw, about everything they had seen around them, everything they had seen in this new world, and in some sense, it was intriguing to see how a dragon explored the new world they were in, the little things that werent intriguing to you were greatly important to them, in a way that got you even more intrigued by how they saw you.

“... You want to know how I see you?” They’d ask.

You knew fully well that you shouldnt expect much, after all, this was Longan Dragon we were talking about, they werent a kind dragon, they saw cookies as lesser beings, and humans now by extensions, but as you asked them that question, they’d only smile and pat your head softly.

“You’re the reason Im here… Of course I would think highly of you”

A genuine smile, it made your heart flutter as they spoke, a hand going to cup your chin in it.

“You’re interesting, perhaps, one of the most interesting things I’ve seen in this world.”

Besides writing, they’d follow you around and take note of everything you’d do… And by night, they’d curl by your side, taking most of the bed as they allow you to take rest in their chest, as they allow you to take rest in their breaths while their hands thread on your hair.

Burning Spice Cookie

“How intriguing…! Never would I have expected your home to be so… so… erm…”

Another one who seems to heavily judge your house, but also, another one who appears in your home kneeling because it is so small compared to him.

Either way, he gets eased into the ambient quite easily, his search for entertainment leading him to see through everything and all the world has to offer.

Until he… gets bored, again, because your world isnt as different from his (and in some sense, it is… actually… more boring than his old world…)

So, he moves to the next thing closest to him for entertainment!

“Little one, come here” 

He’d call forward to you once, looking at you with dark yet fiery eyes and an everlasting smile, though you knew this once it hid something, after all, despite him coming to your world for x or y reason, it involved you, it always involved you…

“Entertain me” Would be his words once you approached him, his smile becoming only more cryptic as you lifted an eyebrow at his voice. Entertain, him? In what sense or way would you be able to entertain someone akin to a god? 

Seeming to sense your doubt, Burning Spice would only come and hold you from your shirt, lifting you up before staring at you and then…

“Hahahah, you should’ve looked at your face, you really are an interesting one!”

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

Besides seeking something for entertainment, Burning spice is in some sense able to somewhat pass through the crowd, and by that I mean he can somewhat pass as just a very tall human. Nonetheless, between choosing to hit the gym and sending you pictures, he’ll also follow you around, finding even the most monotonous tasks fairly entertaining if it has you in it. Its a weird combo, being outside with a dude in a hoodie and sweat pants following you around while doing groceries, or being in the metro and getting a fairly nice picture of him flexing for you. Burning spice is a menace…

“Aye, welcome home! I took care of some pesky people while you were gone… It was fun hearing their screams…”

…in far more ways than one.

Either way, you two also share a bed, its not like you have a choice with how clingy he can become when sleeping, pulling you in his arms in a heated hug (in the sense that he literally irradiates heat) while snoring loudly, you’ve gotten complaints from neighbors (if you live in an apartment), but somehow… they’ve… they’ve quieted down recently… However, when you ask Burning Spice, he just laughs it off.

Shadow Milk Cookie

“Woowee, what do we have here, sweetheart?”

Not as judgemental of your home, no, for once someone isnt as focused on where you live but…

He is focused on you, looking at you up and down, before hitting his head on the roof of your room, ouch!

He spends most of the days following you around though, using his magic to stay hidden from most people, so much that people may find you crazy for seeing you talk to… nothing!

Either way, much like the others, he’s there for a reason…

“Why Im here?”

You asked Shadow Milk once, after a good few months, what the jester had come to do in your own home. In fact, it perplexed you so much that when you asked him, the feeling seemed to be shared. It was… intriguing to say the least, but he’d only smile before clasping his hands together and saying in a song-esque tune.

“Becuase you’re sooooooooooo interesting, darlin! Just look at you, how could I NOT come here with you?”

Truth to be told, he saw you as who you really were, in some sense he saw you as someone who didnt fall for lies easily, he saw you as someone who saw beyond that and you were… interesting. You were a shot in the dark, and he just had, to have you near.

“You’re so silly, darlin, sososososo silly” He’d add in, patting your head softly as you only smiled and blushed slightly, even while knowing his smile and gaze hid a million of thoughts, and a million of even more ideas.

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not reading around in your home, or following you to the library to read some books, he’d be looking over your shoulder, reading every single note, watching every single thing you do, it makes him curious, how someone so quaint has him wrapped around your finger. And yet, he cant help but smile at the idea of being just like that, wrapped around your finger in a sweet loving embrace.

He’d be the most romantic of the bunch, the one that makes it the most prominent that he’s there with you because he likes you, he dosent even hide it fully despite his jester-esque persona, he just cant hide it! So, when you ask him about what he was doing one day in the balcony of your apartment, he’d only turn and smile softly.

“Why, I'm recreating one of your world’s theatre plays!” He’d say, and you make a mental note to go to the theatre more often… “And you’ve come just in time, silly (y/n)! I need someone to play dearest Juliet!”

You add that it is a tragic love story, and he only brushes it off, adding in that “actors are actors, sweetheart, now come in and act!” so you do, and you have a fun time doing a monologue to a bunch of people who stay and watch, before claps fill the air.

And when time comes to bed, he’ll be the first to curl up in your bed, curl like a cat who welcomes you into his arms so sweetly, you feel the scent of milk, lactonic as it is, and for once you feel safe.

Timekeeper Cookie

“Well, look what we have here!”

To find Timekeeper in your home means to have done something either right or wrong. In your case, its right.

They’re very much curious about everything from the things you do on a daily basis to your home and how electronics work.

Still, and much like some others in this list, they become quickly bored about it, choosing to focus on you as main form of entertainment

Still, you can expect certain shenanigans to ensue.

It was late at night when it happened, just as you were playing when a portal opened and dragged you inside of it. You were scared shitless that much is true but, when you saw the person who dragged you in, you simply could sigh in slight annoyance.

“What? Cant I drag my favorite person in for some fun?” They’d say with that ever present smile, Timekeeper chuckling as she smiled widely at you, before noticing… “Oh, right, it is night where you’re from, guess I took you out at the wrong time!”

You huffed and yawned, before sitting up and looking at your phone… Right, it didnt exactly work when in time rifts, but then again that raised the question, why did they bring you here to begin with? As if being presented with the question loud and clear, they’d clear her throat and speak yet again.

“I simply wanted to see you, nothing wrong with that now?” They’d say quite mischievously, picking you up and bringing you into her lap “Go on, lets- Hm?”

You’d fall asleep into her arms as soon as she picked you up, your calm quiet face being shown to her as you were held in her arms. Well, guess fun had to wait.

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

Much like the others, they also enjoy reading, however, they focus on reading about engineering and mechanics, more so about the mechanics of your world to see if they’re any different from the ones of her world. To say there isnt much difference is but an understatement, there was a hefty amount of difference counting the technology from the TBD was far more advanced, but, even then, you’d be able to get the timekeeper intrigued by the nature of your world.

“Tell me more about your world, c’mon!” They’d ask one day, floating from a time rift as you cooked dinner. 

Unlike the others Timekeeper wasnt keen on staying in one place, still finding comfort in being inside time rifts most of the time, though they still visited you more often than not, more often than other places. Seeing them you’d ask her what she wanted to know, to which she’d hum before saying.

“Anything, I dont really find it entertaining seeing it myself—Explain your world to me yourself, doll!”

So when night comes after a long day chatting, it is you who clings to her softly, as she watches you sleep cozily by her side. She smiles and pats your head, because as much as she’d prefer to fade into a time rift, she knows she cant let you go so easily, no. Not when you finally showed her happiness.

“Interesting, this place is… quite interesting…”

Seeing someone as tall as Millennial Tree in your home is but a piece of the whole puzzle. You are dumbfounded but in some sense, seeing them kneel to greet you is almost laughable.

He’s big, very tall and a gentle giant overall, and it shows when he holds your hand and tells you that your world is interesting to him.

He’s just as curious as everyone else, looking at everything, looking at everyone, he’s curious about you, curious about your world, yet he knows it’d be dangerous to leave on his own.

So, you take him to the forest, planing on leaving him go but…

“I dont want to leave you alone…”

He’d speak with conviction, looking at you as your eyes widened and your face dropped. Just what you feared would happen. He’d hold your hands together, looking at you with some concern before smiling softly, kissing both of your palms.

“I came here for a reason, that much I know, and I know that reason is within you… Allow me to stay by your side, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it worth it.”

You have no power in you to say no, to turn down his offer after his gentle and sweet words, that day you realized that perhaps he did come to your world for a reason, a world so clad in evil and pain…

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not travelling nor reading, he’s at home with you, cooking or revisiting each place he has gone to to help. He’s become… a sort of Messiah, you cant help it, become public enemy no.1 to some, and a savior to others, it truly depended on who you were asking. Your gaze would follow his as he trailed on a book you both were reading before he’d lean and kiss your forehead, things were… easy, happy with him there… You felt much happier.

“Is something the matter, sapling?” He’d ask, his gentleness carrying over to his voice as he hummed at your words saying it was nothing, but he knew better, still, he wouldnt push. “Are you perhaps tired?”

You pouted slightly before nodding, yes, you were quite tired, but you didnt want to admit to it. Still, he’d nod before moving the book to the side and lifting you into his arms. He’d carry you to your shared bedroom, careful on his way there before setting you on the bed with him, cozily, softly, carrying you to him as he pressed his lips on your forehead and your body to his.

“Sleep well, sunshine” He’d say, brushing hairs off your face before speaking again “Thank you for accepting me into your world…”

Honestly, how could you not at this point? With that thought in your head… You fell asleep.

[vershautece]

Imagine the whole phd thing was your inside joke nobody else knew about and one day you’re at a gathering and somebody asks “so luigi, thinking of going for that phd soon?” He smirks and looks towards you like “what you think of me and a phd baby?” OHHHH LETS GO HOME RIGHT NOW AND I’LL TELL YOU

*when i first started responding to this ask i didn’t even mean to write a whole oneshot haha but omfg guys this is like size kink heaven

—

omg this is what im saying he would literally be this cocky and teasing😣 and yes i love the idea of it being an inside joke like u guys were prob just cuddling scrolling on your phones and he starts laughing bc he’s just seen a tweet about someone doing a phd and it inspired the joke😭 ur both giggling like children and then u turn to him and decide to tease, batting your lashes. ‘so is it really as huge as you say, sir?’ & you know damn well it’s a whole 7 inches bc ur insides have it memorised. ur rubbing his bulge through his pants and when he tells u to straddle him you’re giggling and whining while u dry hump

he’s going along with your playing dumb gimmick: ‘you need help remembering how big my cock is baby? don’t want just the tip, no? you want the whole thing? how many inches am i, princess?’

‘mm, 5?’ you’re messing with him still, grinding your hips onto his clothed crotch. his hands are moving between your sides, your lower back and gripping and kneading your ass in your loungewear.

at your words he immediately scoffs, and cocks his tongue to the inside of his cheek: ‘yeah sure baby, so you wanna see if you’re right?’ his smirk is making you so wet, and it’s surely gonna leak through the thin fabric you’re wearing. your hands are pushing on his chest now while you rock your hips against his.

‘mhmm, show me baby, i don’t think you can call it a phd if it’s only 5 inches. hm?’ u tease him, and move back off his crotch a little to palm him through his sweatpants. he’s so hard now, and u almost moan out loud at the feeling of him even through fabric.

‘take it out then, sweetheart’ he’s looking at you with pure lust in his eyes as you sit back to pull his sweatpants and his boxers down his legs, throwing them onto the other side of the bed.

his cock is fully erect, almost slapping against his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. ‘what do you think, baby?’

you’re nearly drooling at the sight, and you giggle, biting your lip. ‘still think it’s just 5 inches, lu’ you bat your eyelashes, pouting slightly, and he nods slowly in response. ‘see if you can take those 5 inches in your mouth then, come on. if it’s only 5 you can do it, sweetheart’

you don’t break eye contact with him as you put him in your mouth, and you only get halfway down before you start to gag. the sight of u struggling to deepthroat him while maintaining eye contact has him going insane. he lets out one loud groan as soon as he’s in your mouth, and instinctively moves his hand to your hair, holding it out of your face. ‘why can’t you take it all, bellissima? hm? come off my cock for a second and answer me, yeah?’

you reluctantly take him out of your mouth, and tease him by spitting out his precum back onto the tip of his cock. ‘mm, think i need to feel it inside me lu, y’know if it hits my cervix then maybe i can say you do qualify for a phd’

u and luigi literally never have sex without him hitting your cervix - he knows you’re messing with him and his size kink is going crazy. he gives u that smirk (u guys know which oneee) ‘that’s fine baby ill give it to you, but you didn’t answer my question. why can’t you deepthroat my cock, beautiful?’

‘mm, stop asking questions and tell me to put it inside baby’ you moan, rocking yourself on his bare thigh and stroking his cock - you’re still fully clothed, and this friction isn’t enough

‘so fuckin’ needy, hm? yeah, you want my dick inside you? take everything off baby, there wasn’t any point in wearing panties cause you’re leaking through your clothes, mm’ he sits up a bit and reaches forward to rub your pussy slowly through your pants. he can locate the clit even through your clothes, and he slaps it lightly as a way of telling you to strip off. you take off your tank top, shuffle out of your pants, and then pull down your soaking panties, and luigi is jerking off slowly in front of you, trying to control his moans. you position yourself on him, replacing his hand with yours on his cock so that you can guide him into you. slowly, you start to push in the tip, and you nearly scream at the pleasure from his tip alone. ‘mmmm, lu’ you place your hands on his chest, and he’s smirking up at u. ‘mhm? this is just the tip baby girl, you gonna push me in deeper? shouldn’t be that difficult since im not that big, huh? cmon’ and he starts drawing slow circles on your clit just to tease you even more. you roll your eyes and push him in deeper, letting out another pornographic moan. ‘luigiiii, mm you’re so bi-’

his smirk grows wider: ‘i��m what? repeat that baby’ he lifts his hips to slowly push the rest into you, groaning at the feeling, and when he bottoms out you lean forward onto his chest and put your arms around his neck. ‘you’re so big, mmmm Mr phd’ you giggle into his chest

‘yeah? it’s more than 5 inches, huh, princess?’ he wraps his arms tight around your waist and gently pulls your face from his chest. he kisses you passionately, and you’re both giving each other teasing smiles when u break the kiss. ‘mhm, feel you in my cervix’ you moan softly; he’s not even started moving yet.

‘yeah, i know baby’ he coos at you, caressing your abdomen where his imprint is. ‘start rocking your hips, and i’ll get to making you feel so good, hm?’ he kisses you again softly as you start grinding on his cock. ‘mmmm, i’m so lucky’ you moan

his arms are moving up and down your torso now, and occasionally to your ass to knead it and grip it. ‘yeah you are, and so am i with this beautiful girl on top of me. you look like an angel, my baby’

you’re blushing down at him, soft moans spilling from your throat as you increase the pace. he’s kissing your neck now and leaving hickeys, while u tangle your fingers in his curls. ‘yeah, grind on my cock just like that, oh fuck’ he’s moaning into your neck, and you keep this pace going for a good few minutes, until he tells you to stop.

u both look at each other with lust filled eyes, a needy whine leaving your throat as you stop moving. he chuckles softly at your desperation. ‘c’mere, baby girl’ he wraps his arms tight around your waist again, and shifts his position on the bed to sit up properly against the headboard, still inside you. ‘c’mere’ he continues to coo at you, then brings u down onto his chest, planting his feet on the bed for the perfect angle to start thrusting up into you. he kisses your forehead, and holds you so tight. you’re prepared for him to start thrusting rough, but instead he starts an extremely frustrating pace of one rough thrust, then stilling inside u, another rough thrust, stilling inside again, and repeat. you want him to be fucking you dumb, not teasing you at this slow pace but it’s so so intimate, and his words in between the thrusts have you feeling like you’re in heaven. ‘i’m starting off slow like this baby, need to make sure you’re really savouring the feeling of how i hit your cervix, mhm? promise i’ll go faster soon’ he speaks to you so sweet and soft, kissing your forehead over and over.

*thrust* ‘mm, that’s it bellissima, you’re taking it so well’ *thrust* ‘mhm, my baby taking my cock so deep for me’ *thrust* ‘yeah, you feeling good?’ *thrust* ‘oh that’s my girl huh? mm, amore mio’

to all of this you’re just responding with moans and incoherent babbles, fingers tangled in his curls - the sensation and the contrast of him thrusting and then stilling inside is heavenly, and you don’t mind the teasing anymore.

‘all you can do is moan for me, hm? all dumb on this phd?’ he’s still at the same pace, and when you still don’t respond he smacks ur ass in between thrusts. u manage to let out a reply through whines: ‘mmm i love you luigi, my baby’

‘i know, sweetheart, i know. i love you too, always wanna show you how much’ he stops thrusting altogether and kisses your shoulder. ‘luigi, please’ you moan, desperate for him to fuck you properly. ‘pazienza, amore mio’

you’re arching your back like a slut waiting for him, and when he starts a steady pace you can’t control any of the whines and moans that leave your throat. ‘oh, luuu, i needed this so bad, your cock’s so fucking big, shit, i can’t’ your eyes roll into the back of your head, and his grip on your waist is so secure it’s making u even dizzier thinking about how protective he is of you. ‘that’s it, sweetheart - is it too much?’ his pace is getting unbelievably faster, and he keeps saying things to you as if you have the energy or brain capacity rn to reply.

‘no it’s perfect baby, want you inside me like this forever’ you manage to reply, and then you’re pressing sloppy kisses all over his neck - your moans vibrating against his skin triggers louder moans from him. ‘oh you’re so good to me, i’m the luckiest girl in the world’

‘baby girl - bambina - i wanna take care of you forever, make you my wife’

‘luigi, i’m gonna cum’ you whine, his words getting u even closer.

‘mhm, you close? yeah? cum for me, beautiful’ he pushes you back off his chest so he can see you, and the eye contact is insane. ‘i wanna see you come undone for me, amore mio, i’m so close too’

‘cum inside me, lu’ you whine desperately, hands gripping his curls so tight. his thrusts haven’t slowed once, and u think it can’t get any better till he suddenly hooks his hands under your ass and makes you jump on his cock, while he shifts his position so that you’re both sat up properly chest to chest, and he bends his knees even more to adjust the angle of his thrusts that somehow makes you feel even better than you already felt.

‘i’m gonna cum, fuck baby, oh, i love you so much’ his moans are erratic, and he’s sucking and kissing your boobs, hands still gripping and smacking your ass.

‘mhmmmm, me too, oh i love you’ you’re rocking your hips frantically to meet his thrusts now, and he pulls away from your boobs just for one second to say something: ‘dolcezza, play with your clit, my pretty girl’

and now your fingers are working erratically on your bundle of nerves, the last thing to push you over the edge as you get your release, screaming luigi’s name. you fall forward onto his chest immediately, while he continues his thrusts to get his own release.

‘that’s a good girl, cumming all over my cock, that’s it - gonna fill you up with mine now, mhm’ he’s muttering these words in your ear, followed by loud grunts as he spills inside you, right before collapsing on the sheets with you on his chest.

you’re both breathing heavily for a few moments and he’s stroking your hair with one hand, pulling you as close as possible by your waist with his other hand. he’s the first to speak: ‘so you’re gonna tell me i qualify for a phd now?’ he’s smirking into your hair, pecking the top of your head. ‘baby’ you giggle into his chest. u caress his cheek and whisper in his ear, ‘of course. and this 7 inch phd belongs to me’ you’re smiling up at him, and he raises his brows in response. ‘oh so you do admit it now, huh? i know your pussy has every inch of me memorised, you can’t mess with me sweetheart’

he shifts you slightly to slowly pull his cock out of you, and you both giggle at all the cum that drips out onto his stomach :’) then, you look up at him innocently, moving your hand to his softening cock. ‘can you fuck me in the shower, please baby?’

[revelboo]

Revel, this is very important (Atleast to us-). Me and my friend have both been reading Everything is Alright and we both agree on something, we were hoping that you could make Starscream a Girl dad, and make the first sparkling a girl. Only if you want to though and don't have any plans, we'd be alright if you don't do this too. We both really love and enjoy your writing, and check everyday for new updates from you. <3 Also, considering this is a request, If you don't mind and it isn't too pressuring, could we please have updates on the Brainstorm and Chromedome/Rewind fics?

Sure! I didn’t have a plan yet for Star’s kid so that works. I’ll try to update Chromedome/Rewind, Tailgate/Cyclonus, Sunder, Brainstorm, and Metroplex if I can today

Everything Is Alright Pt 123

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “If I was in charge, we’d have conquered this miserable mudball already and crushed the Autobots,” Starscream says, lip curling and you freeze. “The Constructicons already have a refinery going, mining is in full swing. But we’d be much further ahead if you hadn’t let those disgusting Insecticons just scurry away. I’ve said that those little savages need to outfitted with mode locks and tracking implants they can’t just remove themselves.” You’ve heard Star’s side of the war. That they were fighting for freedom and to overthrow a corrupt senate, but this is the first time he’s mentioned conquering your world and it leaves you cold inside. Because was that his intention all along? Whispering to you at night whole knowing he was going to destroy everything and not even caring?

• “What do you mean about conquering Earth?” You ask and Soundwave tenses as your emotions begin to build. Glares at Starscream to stop, but the Seeker is on a roll, secure in the knowledge that Megatron can’t hurt him too badly now. Not looking at you to realize you’re upset. ‘The only value in this world is the energon Shockwave seeded millennia ago,’ Starscream says. “The only value? This is my world. My home.” And you’re shrugging off Soundwave’s hand to face the Seeker, little hands balled into fists. Furious and he’s never seen you angry like this before. “What do you to do to worlds you’ve conquered?”

• Rant faltering at the edge in your voice, Starscream sees Megatron smirk and realizes he’s just made a mistake. Wings dropping, he turns back to you and forces a smile. “Nothing to worry yourself over, little one. Our home is Cybertron. Yours now, too.” And your eyes narrow, looking from him to the other two and back as your face reddens and your chin lifts. Why are you so upset? You’ll love Cybertron. You’ll be with him and your sparkling.

• “I asked what you do to the worlds you conquer,” you repeat. “What’s left after you’re done? Is anything left?” Hates that the upset edge in your voice bothers him and knows it’s the bond pulling him to you, urging him to soothe you, but Megatron has no intention of interfering. Enjoying watching the SIC struggling for words, wings flicking as he finally catches on that he’s screwed up. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say, tossing your hands up and striding away, though there’s nowhere you can really go trapped on the berth. Watches Soundwave drift after you, touching your arm and getting his hand slapped. And Starscream is glaring at him like this is all his fault.

• “Typically,” Megatron growls and you turn to glare at him, unsettled by his lazy smile. “Worlds our war spills onto don’t survive.” Breath catching, you wish he was mass displaced so you could slap him. Actually right now, you want to slap all three of them. There has to be a way to keep your idiots from razing your home to ash with their stupid war. They’re bigger and stronger than you, but they need you don’t they? You’d gotten the impression from Star that fully bonding takes ‘til death do us part to the most literal extent. Which means you’ve got leverage to get your way, even if it’s absolutely awful to even consider holding your life over their heads by threatening yourself just to try and get them to behave.. “Though, I might be convinced to spare this world. With the proper motivation.”

• And he can feel the shift in your emotions, the cold calculation. Doesn’t like it one bit, either. Scheming and manipulation isn’t your strength. Curling his arms around you and tugging you back into him when you try to shrug him off, Soundwave tries to pin down exactly what you’re thinking, but as always your mind is too chaotic for him. But he can’t help but be worried. He’d played kingmaker for Megatron, started playing the same game for you, positioning you so you’re safest, but if you’re also playing? It complicates things. Needs to fully bond you as soon as possible so he can better protect you, be able to get a better grasp on your thoughts. Except. There’s the problem of your lifespan. If it was only his life, he’d take it, claim you, but his cassettes need him. Depend on him. And so do you. For the first time he can remember, his path forward isn’t clear to him. What he wants and needs at odds with reason.

Previous

[biancadoes1]

I’m sorry but I just can not buy that Luke is with Antonia romantically and Nicola is with Jake romantically. Legit for several reasons one of the biggest being if they were so serious with their significant others why did they never simply say “We are both in conjured relationships with other people that we wish to remain private and we’re just friends”. That is all they would’ve had to do at any point during the WT. the numbers would have still numbered as most general audiences did NOT watch the world tour and most GA watched season 3 for Polin alone and know Nothing about Lukola stuff. Also it doesn’t explain all the other stuff from the WT. The absolutely unhinged things Lukola said about each other, the over touch. I’m sorry we know this man knows nothing of personal space with Nicola but at this supposed hard launch event with his supposed actual girlfriend he leaves even room for the Holy Spirit between them? Not to mention the hand holding. What the heck was that? We have seen this man literally search Nicola’s hand through fabric and grip it for dear life. The refusal to let go at the London premiere of Nicola’s hand and seeking it out at the NYC premiere but suddenly with his actual girlfriend he’s touch averse?!? Like also Nicola and Luke were soooo touchy throughout the world tour. Him putting bracelet on her with one hand so he can keep his other around her waist? His arm around her during chair interviews. Them being literally on top of each other during the live stream. Why is Luke her number one or gives a fuck that she finds Ryan Gosling attractive? Why did her whole family react like that to meeting him if he’s JUST a friend? Not to mention all the alone dinners and hang outs they had when press was done? Why are journalists getting vibes from them? Why didn’t they hear cut in the carriage? Why did the break the settee from simulating fucking so hard? Why was Nicola gonna say Colin Bridgerton’s biggest secret was something about his dick size? Why did she have a Polaroid of her friend and costar on her phone for several months if she had boyfriend already?! Sharing the same cup in Brazil and him reaching for that spoon that had just been in her mouth! Why was he SOO sat to hear what she looks for in a man? Make it make sense! And also if both of them are in serious relationships since last year why don’t either Luke or Nicola follow their supposed significant others? Since they’re just great friends right wouldn’t you support your bffs girlfriend/boyfriends of over a year? And then again with both of them NOT spending NYE with the adjacents that’s kinda weird no? And I’m sorry I can’t get over how just not happy he looks in those photos; the video inside is better but still it’s just all so fucking weird and not adding up. And again if Antonia is his significant other for over a year why isn’t she allowed to have him anywhere on her social media? Sorry it just deadass doesn’t make sense? Regardless I am sat on this ship until one of them marries someone else but I’m just saying I’m finding this narrative VERY very hard to believe. India and Corey had great chemistry and did a press tour but were able to shut down rumors real quick as he had a significant other. I just don’t believe everything we saw was PR as they legit didn’t even know cameras were on them during multiple times. I’m just gonna watch and wait but again the math truly ain’t mathing for me.

The math is never mathing.

[suzukiblu]

okay I SLIGHTLY dragged my ass writing/getting this up, it's been kind of A Day(tm), BUT: first day of the first February weekly WIP behind the cut; "the puzzle trap sex-room". content warnings: past grooming, past sexual abuse, past statutory rape, past dubious consent, CURRENT unhealthy coping mechanisms, immediate fallout of sex pollen/death trap-induced sexual coercion, and a POV character who does not understand what the problem with any of that is, he's FINE, Jesus, lay off already and let him live his life. So uh, you know, just Kon's . . . entire pre-YJ dating history, pretty much? Pretty much that, yeah. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Is the possibility of having given Robin an STI the only reason you can think of to be concerned about the events of the night?” Batman asks, perfectly neutral like another fucking trap–like he thinks Superboy’s the stupidest thing alive and gonna fucking fall for that again–and Superboy actually almost does disassemble this whole stupid cave. Or at least that huge-ass computer Batman’s got taking up half a wall over there or maybe some of those fancy Batsuits and all their utility belts full of souped-up gear, anyway. 

He’s real fuckin’ tempted to disassemble the Batmobile. 

Besides, if anyone gave–gave anyone a fucking STI, it was obviously the fucking prick who lied about not having fucking condoms on him. 

“I saved your fucking sidekick’s fucking life, asshole,” Superboy bites off roughly, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. The muscles that try to tense under Superman’s grip can’t–not as much as normal, anyway. Superman’s grip is just–it’s not something Superboy can do anything about, and that is pissing him the fuck off right now. “You could at least pretend to be, I dunno, fuckin’ grateful instead of just being a dick about my goddamn personal life.” 

“You haven’t described your personal life,” Batman says in that same bullshit neutral tone. “Or your dating history, or anything similar. You’ve described predatory adult women taking advantage of their age and experience to manipulate and take advantage of you.” 

“Let the fuck go of me or I’m gonna fucking make somebody sorry about it,” Superboy says to Superman, his voice flatter than the goddamn floor. Like–very literally flatter, since some of the floor’s clearly kinda just hacked out of the rock. 

He is actually about to go fucking nuclear on this bullshit non-conversation where no one’s fucking listening to him. 

Getting fucking lectured is not, in fact, any kind of a conversation. 

And he’s not–like, what the fuck is this bullshit, where they’re pretending like they’re asking him things and all they’re actually doing is making fucking assumptions and twisting everything he does say and not even fucking listening to him! 

“Kid, we just–” Superman starts in that bullshit voice like he’s trying to sound concerned instead of ever fucking listening to him or, you know, letting him the fuck go, and well–Superboy fucking warned him, didn’t he. 

So he grabs every single piece of the Batmobile down to the absolute last, and then he rips it all apart all at once and drops it. 

Though once he’s done that, he just to rip apart a whole lot more. 

The Batmobile collapses every which way and all its parts and pieces hit the floor in a massive cacophony of clattering and crashing and Robin jerks in alarm, whipping his head towards the pieces of it as they scatter across the floor. Superman startles a little too, and Superboy’s still not done being fucking pissed, actually, so he just–he still wants to rip apart this whole fucking cave and everything in it and just–just rip it apart, just–just–

“Let me go, you fucking prick,” he hisses up at Superman. “You have literally never cared before and I don’t give a fuck about your opinion about who I’m fucking anyway!” 

“Superboy,” Robin interjects carefully as he glances back towards them–fucking carefully, like he thinks Superboy’s somebody who needs handled carefully, who can’t handle his own shit, the patronizing piece of–“You did describe crimes. Legally, like . . . at least a couple of those situations are crimes.” 

Of course that’s what the asshole decides to fucking speak up about, Superboy thinks as a spike of fury stabs into his gut. 

[lilylushes]

Luigi x Pregnant Reader Headcanons

-Your sex life with Luigi had always been active, but once you two decided to see what happens in terms of getting pregnant, he got baby fever BAD and it turned into a whole baby making season for him. 

-You had sex almost every day before, but now it was constantly - on the countertop, in the shower, in the pool/ocean, etc. Even when you were tired, he’d happily make love to you with gentle strokes, humming how much he loved you and wanted a baby. He’d also lay on the praise even more during baby making season. “Mmm, going to give you a baby, beautiful.” “So good for me, taking all my cum, my good girl.” 

-He was SO excited when you both found out. The two of you both suspected you might be pregnant, so you took a test and decided to look at it at the same time. When you flipped it over and the two lines were clear as day, he was elated. He hugged you so tightly and even though he’s not an overly emotional guy, he cried tears of joy, and gave you so much praise. “You’re going to be the best mother.” “I love you.” “I can’t wait to do this with you.” Oh, and he’s thinking about how hot you’ll look pregnant.

-He immediately ordered a shit ton of books about pregnancy, fatherhood, babies, and everything.

-He thinks about different names all the time, too. He’d ask, “baby, what do you think of x as a name?”

-He goes to literally every appointment, ultrasound, and signs you up for a birthing class.

-NEEDS to find out the gender because he can’t not know. You’d do a little private thing, just the two of you. I picture one of those ones on the beach with a little cake and the wine glasses. No matter what you’d have, his reaction would be so precious. More hugs and tears, probably.

-He’s also kinda panicking because now he’s gonna be a literal father in charge of keeping another human alive. He is reading the books that he ordered religiously. He worries deep down that he’s not cut out to be a father.

-He proudly assembles all of the nursery furniture and makes sure it’s all safe.

-He takes up crocheting/knitting so that he can make socks, hats, a blanket, etc. for the baby. He goes kinda crazy with it, lol.

-He just wants to be a part of it all in any way that he can. He reads up on what you’re experiencing, is always asking how you’re feeling, wants to make sure you take all the vitamins you need, and takes part in your birthing class to ensure that he’ll be a supportive partner.

-He talks to your baby at night. “You have the best mom. She’s so pretty and so smart, you’ll see. You’re giving her kind of a hard time, though. It’s hard for her to sleep. Just keep still in there for a few hours, hm?”

-He is always encouraging you to try things out to make everything more comfortable for you, especially at the end.

-He talks about what the baby will look like and be like. You both agree on your eyes with his smile. You two take the opportunity to look at your own baby pictures. He’s a bit embarrassed at his, but he can’t get over how cute you were.

-Pregnancy sex, especially towards the end, is wild and constant. “I know you’re uncomfortable, baby. I read how we can induce labour, wanna give it a try?”

-He totally panics when you go into labour. He did pack your hospital bags long ago, but he gets all blushing and flustered.

-While you’re in labour, he gives you distance when you need it and is nearby when you need it.

-When your baby is born, he’d be crying so hard. Between your baby being here and how proud he is of you for going through labour, he’d be extremely emotional.

-He can’t believe how tiny the baby is, being totally in awe of their little hands and feet. He’s just in disbelief that you two made this sweet little baby.

-Afterwards, when you’re holding the baby, he says, “thank you for giving me him/her.”

-Even though he’s running on no sleep, he’d watch you sleep afterwards and come over to kiss your cheeks and forehead.

-He’s so proud to bring your visitors in. He’d by hyping you up to them, like, “she did such a good job, I’m so proud of her. She was so strong the whole time.”

-When you’re leaving the hospital, he’s beaming with pride to be able to look beside him and see you and your baby. 

-When you’re in the car, he’d look in the mirror at you and your baby in the backseat, and say, “There’s nobody else I’d rather do this with, y/n. love you, baby.”

[parker-artio]

I have a large family. A very large family.

My mother fosters and she has 8 children, but has a waiver for up to having 10 kids in her house.

But finding out Bruce Wayne is an emergency foster parent made me think: Is it as hectic at his place as it is here? Does he have a case worker come inspect the house once a month? In case of any kids coming in? How many caseworkers has he actually gone through? He’s got how many kids.

So here’s a few things that have happened at our place that I think would’ve have happened with Bruce’s emergency foster kids/ his actual kids.

So the kids he fosters and adopt probably don’t have to do chores as much as the kids in my house do, since he’s a literal billionaire with a mansion, but it’s the sense of helping make responsibilities. So a kid- let’s say Dick- was working in the kitchen next to the fire extinguisher. (Did you know all foster homes have to have one that’s easy to access?) But then he saw smoke coming from the oven when Alfred opens it, which is normal, but he just had fire safety week in school, the fire fighters came in and showed everyone how to use an extinguisher in case of an emergency.

So what does Dick do?

Well he obviously grabs the extinguisher and pulls the pin and squeezes the handle. He forgets to point and aim the nozzle though.

The entire kitchen, the hallway, and a few surrounding rooms all get doused in the powder. Thankfully it wasn’t the foam. Or else everything would need to get thrown out.

Dick is covered in it so he’s sent to the shower to wash up while Alfred and Bruce clean everything. They can still open the closet and move a small thing and see small traces of white powder laying around- even a decade later.

(This has happened in my house. No one was happy. Covered the entire hallway that circled around our whole house, went the first four feet into our kitchen, by our front door, into all of the rooms in the hallway, and covered half of the bathroom. From ceilings to the roof. So much stuff was thrown out. 5 hours of cleaning.)

This is a lot longer than I expected it to be… I don’t wanna write anymore now.

[radical-remster]

Deadass I had to look through my archives to see what I wrote last and to no surprise at all I was writing a DMC fanfic 😭💀 anyways here it is, it’s unedited;

He should be angry, but he isn’t.

Nero couldn’t comprehend why out of all the things he could get mad over this feels more like an afterthought.

Maybe, it was because he never needed someone like his dad growing up because he always had Kyrie and Credo to look out for him.

Maybe, it was because he was used to the hole in his heart that longed to know what was missing in his life.

Or maybe, there was something wrong with him.

Two months have passed since Dante and Vergil left to the demon realm to keep the gates closed; two months have passed since he found out he had two living relatives, and two months have since passed since they both disappeared.

They were gone, and they left Nero with the heavy-duty job of protecting the human realm in their stead. Nero had not been given the time to process anything, there had quite literally been a one hour gap from when he found out who his father was to him having to say goodbye to him only moments later. At least with them gone it gave Nero time to think but that seemed to be the only thing he did nowadays, even with hunting jobs he took his thinking cost him and served as a deadly distraction. See, Nero wasn’t sure how to feel because on one hand he now knew some of the answers to the questions he’d been asking his whole life: who was he? Who cursed him to have been born with an arm like his? On the other hand, he didn’t care and that’s what bothered him. Why the hell didn’t he care more about this? Nero never had a grieving period to really mourn over the fact that he was probably never going to see Dante or his dad ever again.

So, what was the problem? He barely knew both men before everything went to shit on June 15th, his relationship with Dante was already distant considering after the attack on Fortuna all he really did was occasionally shadow over Nero to see how he was doing. He didn’t stick around long and he mostly appeared at the most random of times, he’d emerge from whatever corner he was hiding in to watch over Nero and act as if they’d been friends forever.

‘Hey kid, miss me? Hah - didn’t think so. You still have that sword from way back when? Yeah, that’s the one, I hope you’ve been taking care of it or else I’m gonna be taking it back for real this time.’

Last Sentence WIP Game

Tagged by @ilonga

You all know the drill by now: post the last line you wrote (from any WIP) and tag the same number of people as there are words.

Anakin stayed right where he was, forcing himself to breathe.

@jasontoddiefor @alabasterswriting @ghostwriterofthemachine @scandalsavagefanfic @daemoninwhiteround2 @thenafics @garpie64 @rose-blooms-red @atasteforsuicidal @sonderwalker

[thegreatgatslin]

UNDER THE TABLE - k. yukimiya x reader (18+)

tw: afab reader, public sex, fingering, cum eating (at the end) karasu and otoya cameo because i said so, it’s okay though they don’t find out, kenyu is a little shit, also ooc?? || wc: 1k-ish || divider creds @cafekitsune

you’ve always known that your boyfriend kenyu yukimiya isn’t always the good boy he seems to be.

sure, in front of the camera’s he’s bastard münchen’s golden boy - he hasn’t been carded on the pitch a single time to date, mind you - and he’s a literal model, so he kind of has to put on his ‘good-boy’ charm for the cameras; it’s his job. and he’s always a perfect gentleman to you.

but there are also times when he lets a different side of himself show. gossiping about his teammates (which you secretly kind of enjoy listening to), and sneaking out after his curfews to see you. sometimes he even goes so far as to lean down, lips brushing your ear, and whisper something truly scandalous, making you blush furiously.

this, though? this takes the cake.

you squirm in your seat, glaring at kenyu, who just offers you a picture-perfect smile. how does he still have his poker face on when he knows damn well what he’s doing to you?

when he knows that under your skirt, under your panties -

“hey.” karasu waves his hand in front of your face, a look of concern on his own. “ya holding up alright? yer a little… off t’day.”

“stomachache,” you grit out. otoya shoots you what might be a sympathetic look.

“had some dodgy seafood last night,” kenyu chimes in, and you clench your jaw at the sound of his voice. “she hasn’t been feeling well since.”

“go to the bathroom if ya need,” karasu advises gently. “we can order for ya.”

“that’s very - kind of you!” the last few words come out an octave higher as the vibrator buzzes against your clit, causing you to clench around nothing. you sit up ramrod straight, pressing your thighs together to quell the sensation, but it’s no use. how can you act like everything’s normal when you’re on the verge of climaxing?

kenyu acts like he’s none the wiser about what’s happening, and to your absolute horror, he opens the app controlling your vibe and turns the fucking intensity down, keeping the vibe on, then sets his phone face down on the table beside him.

“you sure?” he says, feigning concern as he places a large palm on your thigh, thumb brushing the soft skin there. “i can bring you, if you need -”

and you want to scream at him, or slap him or something, because to karasu and otoya, kenyu just seems like a loving boyfriend. but to you? oh, he’s your torturer. putting his hand on your thigh like that, so tantalisingly close to where your slick is pooling in your panties.

and it’s as if he can read your mind, because he’s sliding his palm up your thigh and under your skirt (you shiver at the feeling, melting into his touch), hooking his thumb under the waistband of your underwear, pushing the vibrator up against your clit, increasing the pressure in the process.

you inhale sharply, thighs inadvertently squeezing around his wrist as you scrabble at the tablecloth, pulling it over your lower half to make sure no one else in the restaurant sees.

“good girl,” he murmurs, and you think you might just die.

“will you relax a little for me, darling?” his fingers are already at the entrance of your soaked hole, collecting the slick there. and you nod, whining quietly, feeling him push in slowly. you bite your inner lip when he finds your g-spot within seconds, strumming your walls expertly with his deft fingers.

you glance over at karasu and otoya, breathing heavily for fear of being noticed, but they seem to be preoccupied with something on the latter’s phone.

“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” you whimper, grabbing onto his forearm, and you’re sure you must look absolutely pathetic right now, looking up at him with big doe eyes, unable to say anything but his name. “kenyu- i -”

but the sly bastard is starting a conversation with his friends now, chatting and laughing and turning up the speed on your vibe as his fingers piston in and out of your leaking cunt, all with that winning smile on his face.

“and we saw it happen right in front of our eyes, and i told her, isn’t that going overboard just a little?” kenyu laughs now, his pace only quickening as you squeeze around his long fingers, his fingers that are currently your undoing. “i mean, it’s kind of unbecoming of young people nowadays to show such affection in public, right? he was practically devouring her face, wasn’t he?” he looks towards you, expectant of a response. “wasn’t he?”

yeah, as if you aren’t currently doing much worse in a public place, where we could be caught so easily -

“yeah, he was,” you breathe. “just - really goin’ to town on her, y’know.” karasu snorts.

“alright, alright, we know you two virgins would never do anything of the sort,” otoya deadpans, eliciting a snicker from karasu. “seriously, guys, you just gotta fuck already.”

oh, otoya, if only you knew… 

kenyu shakes his head in mock reproach, smiling softly as he bullies his fingers into your syrupy cunt. “don’t say such crude things in front of a lady, otoya,” he chides.

between the delicious stimulation from the vibrator, the press of his fingers against your spongy spot, and the knowledge that you might get caught at any moment - it’s all pushing you to the edge. too hard, too fast.

“ken,” you gasp, eyes pleading - though you don’t know what you’re pleading for, exactly. “i think i’m - m’gonna -”

and it’s at this point he leans down to whisper into your ear -

“cum for me, my good girl.”

and you do.

it’s like sparks dancing before your eyes as you gush around him, maybe better than most of the orgasms he’s previously given you, to your chagrin.

he pulls his fingers out of you slowly, and you know that under the tablecloth he’s spreading them, feeling your essence like sticky webs between them. and as sit there, catching your breath, and wonder how he’s going to explain the sticky mess on his fingers to his friends -

the bastard knocks his fork off the table with his elbow, and as he bends down to pick it up - and licks his fingers clean of your cum, not breaking eye contact with you.

you gulp hard, feeling heat pool in your stomach at the undeniably lewd sight. kenyu simply smiles serenely at you, straightening up with his fork in hand.

“right, shall we order?”

a/n: okay so what the fu-

© thegreatgatslin || ✦ M.LIST ✦

[kastalani123]

Not my usual content, but I just. I wanna ramble, ig.

Do you understand how baffled I was about how the vampire book, written by a man in 1897, is essentially a PSA about how important proper communication is?? Even after I scrolled through Tumblr, saw the memes, read people geeking out about the relationships (platonic and romantic) in Dracula, I was still caught off guard, because. Like. Everything in this book is about communication.

Sure, it's kind of a given, considering it's an epistolary novel partially made up of letters between the characters, but. I dunno. From Dracula controlling Johnathan's lettres, van Hellsing refusing to tell anyone shit, the men keeping Mina out of the loop, to Mina using her telepathic link with Dracula, it's. It's literally all about how important actually talking to each other and sharing information is. Fuck, throw in the fact that "Harker", Mina and Jonathan's, arguably the main characters, last name means "to listen"/"eavesdropper", and that the book is Mina's in-universe creation to help compile, organize, and share what they know about Dracula, and the book's very essence becomes centered around information-sharing!

And I just. The narrative punishes just about every secret hidden, every time the characters don't communicate. There's the obvious, Dracula keeping Johnathan from sending out letters for help and Mina getting bitten because the men leave her home alone, but also. Van Hellsing not telling Lucy's mom that the garlic flowers and closed windows and so on are the treatment and she is not to touch them is what kills Lucy and her mom! They maybe could have survived if he just told them what's happening/what he's doing! And even the godsdamned telegram he sends to Seward! If he had just addressed it properly (communicated to the telegram boy properly!) then Seward wouldn't have been late and maybe could have prevented the massacre!

There's also Jonathan's diary right after he finally reunites with Mina, and obviously Mina's whole ✨ thing ✨ with the diary during their wedding is like. Peak romance, but Johnathan doesn't fully get better until Mina reads and shares it with van Hellsing and van Hellsing assures Johnathan that he's not insane. Sure, it's an oversimplification of PTSD and healing and such, but it makes sense, especially if you consider communication and information sharing as a major theme! Only sharing his experiences, reading through them himself after blocking off the memories, is what heals him! He cannot get better without knowing what happened, and without others knowing what happened, because knowing and sharing is important.

Renfield's also an interesting case. I don't have the book with me right now to check, but as far as I remember, he tries to talk about Dracula, tries to get Seward to release him from the asylum so Dracula can't use him against Mina, but is dismissed entirely; as a consequence, Dracula gets in the building, kills Renfield, and bites Mina.

Even the language barriers! The villagers Johnathan meets on his way to Dracula's castle try so hard to warn him of the danger but they can't. They can't, because they don't speak enough of the same language, but they try so hard. But whatever does get through to Johnathan, such as that woman begging him to take the crucifix she gives him — that might've saved him. It keeps him unsettled and wary and he does keep the crucifix, which wards Dracula off. They can't communicate the full extent of the danger, but what they managed is probably responsible for him surviving.

And the whole idea is even mentioned in-text! Sure, Lucy saying that a wife ought to share everything she knows with her husband is definitely sexism-flavoured, but Johnathan says it too! He says that his idea of an ideal marriage is one without secrets! And Johnathan is effeminate, yes, he spends a good chunk of the book as the "damsel in distress", but he is still the hero! He is still the one who kills Dracula (with Quincey), and can therefore be assumed to be an intended role model. The (male) main character and hero of an 1897 novel says that a good relationship relies on communication. Sure, he doesn't always stick to it, mostly by agreeing to keep Mina out of the loop when van Hellsing pushes for it, but that doesn't discount that that is what Stoker set as the ideal.

I just. I love this book so much. It subverted just about all expectations I might've had about it and I'm so glad for it. It's undeniably a product of its time, with plenty of racism and sexism and ableism, but it's also so. Not, at the same time? It's so good.

[lyvhie]

okay hi haechan anon again!! im back with another request! so I'm missing my taeyong a lot (hashtag military wife..) and I was listening to 2 baddies as any baddie would and. the line "now you wanna ride these wheels" had my legs FOLDED 🥴 those wheels aren't the only thing I wanna ride.

and that brings me to my request. riding tyongie pretty pretty please???

── .✦ everybody makes mistakes

ex-bf!lee taeyong x fem!reader

𓂃 ࣪˖ summary: You were going through a busy time in your life, and going to a party was supposed to help you relax a little and... Well, your ex certainly turned out to be a good distraction. 𓂃 ࣪˖ cw: smut, riding, car sex, unprotected sex, creampie because why not 😞, pet names. 𓂃 ࣪˖ a/n: HIIII, ANOOOON!!! GLAD YOU'RE STILL HERE 😚😚 i get you... i feel like we are 12949 years without tyong, we need him back ASAP, i can't have a happy life if taeyong isn't here PLEASE. ANYWAYS, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE!

This was definitely not part of the plan. It was supposed to be a fun night at your friend's party—a chance to unwind and forget about the chaos that had taken over your life lately. Honestly, you hadn’t even planned on coming, but your friends had insisted, saying some fresh air would do you good. You finally caved, figuring what was the harm?

Wrong decision.

If you had known your ex-boyfriend would be there, you’d have stayed home.

You thought you were over him, it had been months since the breakup, after all. There was no reason to panic, you told yourself. Besides, he hadn’t even seemed to notice you were there. You could enjoy the night without a care. Or so you thought.

Your eyes kept drifting to him, as if drawn by some invisible force. Watching how he moved through the crowd, laughing, leaning in to whisper things in people’s ears, flashing that smile that used to make your heart race. The same smile he was now directing at others.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to tear your gaze away from him. Focus on your drink. Your friends. Literally anything else, you told yourself, desperate to ignore the annoying tightness in your chest every time you caught sight of him leaning in close to someone else. But it was no use.

You didn’t even need to look. You could feel it. His eyes were on you, burning with that same intensity you’d once found irresistible. Against your better judgment, you glanced over and instantly regretted it.

There he was, lips curling into a smirk, that infuriating, knowing expression that only made your stomach twist further. And then, as if the universe itself was playing a cruel joke, he started walking toward you.

Your heart skipped, and you quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in whatever your friends were laughing about. You even forced out a chuckle, hoping it sounded convincing.

Taeyong, of course, wasn’t fooled. He thought it was cute, how bad you were at subtlety, how transparent you always were when you tried to act cool, just as he remembered. If anything, it made him want to reach you faster.

From the moment he approached you and murmured a soft “hey,” everything became a haze, your senses drowning in the intensity of his presence. You remembered the way he leaned in, his lips so close to your ear that his warm breath sent shivers down your spine. His voice was low and familiar, dripping with charm as he told you how much he missed you, how surprised he was to see you there when he knew this wasn’t your usual scene.

His hand had found its way to your waist, his touch firm but not forceful, as if asking for permission rather than demanding it. You hadn’t stopped him. The heat of his body pressed against yours was both comforting and electric, stirring something in you that you thought had long been buried.

Every subtle gesture—a thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip, the way his fingers lingered just a moment too long as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the way his gaze never wavered from yours—pulled you deeper into the gravity of his orbit. You knew you should step back, but instead, you let yourself lean into the closeness, into him, even though you both knew exactly where this would lead.

And all of it led to a kiss, slow, as if to test the waters, then deepening with the kind of urgency that only old lovers can share. That kiss led to lovely whispers and stolen touches, and before you knew it, you were in the parking lot, your heart pounding as he opened the door to the backseat of his car.

The air between you was thick with tension, your breaths mingling as he pulled you close, his hands finding your waist like they never forgot the shape of you. It was reckless and impulsive, the kind of decision that you knew you’d question later—but right now, with his lips on yours and the heat of his body pressed against you, it felt like the only decision to make.

His hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin as he held you down against him. His mouth was relentless, his tongue exploring yours with a fervor that made your breath hitch. Your hips began to move instinctively, a slow grind against him that drew a deep groan from his lips. The confined space of the car only heightened the heat between you, every movement feeling more intense, more urgent in the close quarters.

You felt his hands slip to the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but you stopped him just in time, pulling away from the kiss, both of you panting softly.

"This is a bad idea," you whispered, though your body leaned into his, contradicting your words.

"Maybe," he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made your resolve waver. You tilted your head slightly, giving him more access.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," you tried to reason, though your hands remained on him, your touch lingering.

“You can blame the alcohol if it helps," he suggested, his lips tracing a path up to your jaw before capturing your mouth again. You didn't resist, kissing him back.

"I didn't drink that much," you argued softly.

"Then blame me," his hand drifting lower, inching toward the space between your legs, sending a wave of anticipation through you. "You're always good at that."

"Shut up," you retorted, nipping at his lower lip, earning a hiss and a soft chuckle from him. “Tell me to stop," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his lips hovering just above yours. "And I will, pretty.”

Yes, you just needed to say the word and get out of his car. Of course, that would be the right thing to do, but... you were already this far.

You would blame him.

"Fuck, I'm gonna regret this," you muttered before crashing your lips against his again, kissing him more fervently than before, grinding against him harder, his bulge applying just the right amount of pressure against your core.

Your hands fumbled with the button of his pants, a mix of nerves and anticipation guiding your movements. He was quick to undo yours in return, his desperation evident as he helped you, pulling his pants down just enough while you slipped out of yours along with your panties, leaving no barriers between you.

His hands gripped your hips, guiding you over him, one of your hands rested on his shoulder for balance while the other slid down, wrapping around his hard cock. It throbbed under your touch, and he let out a soft moan at the slightest contact. You stroked him slowly, savoring the way he responded, before lowering yourself just enough to let the tip brush along your slick slit.

He groaned, his fingers tightening on your hips, urging you to stop teasing. "Don't play with me," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. You smiled faintly, enjoying the rare moment of control you had over him, but your own need was overwhelming.

With a soft exhale, you slowly sank down onto him, both of you gasping as he stretched you, filling you completely. Fuck, how he missed this—the feeling of your warm heat enveloping him, just as tight as he remembered. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent, his breath hot against your skin.

“You feel so good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You missed this feeling too, the delicious stretch of him inside you, your walls fluttering around him, as if your body was echoing the same sentiment. He bit your neck to muffle a moan, the sound vibrating through you.

And for a few seconds, you both stayed like that, motionless, just reveling in the feeling of him taking up all the space in your pussy. Then, slowly, you began to move, rolling your hips over him before lifting yourself just enough and sinking back down, drawing moans from both of you. His hands slid down to cup your ass, fingers digging in as he followed your movements, his head falling back against the seat with a deep groan.

Your movements were slow at first, teasing, but you quickly found your rhythm, pressing down on him, the sensation sending waves of heat through your body. The heat between you was unbearable, the cramped space of the car amplifying every sound—the wet glide of your bodies, the breathless moans, the creak of the leather seat beneath you.

His hands moved back to your waist and his grip on you tightened, fingers pressing into your flesh as he urged you to move faster. You picked up speed, setting a pace that felt good for you, making him gasp with each roll of your hips.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, lifting his head to watch where your bodies met, eyes dark with hunger. "Just like that... take me deeper."

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a whimper as you obeyed, bouncing harder, grinding down to feel every inch of him. The pleasure was dizzying, overwhelming, stealing what little self-control you had left. His hands left your hips, moving up your body, dragging your shirt up to expose more of your skin.

“Fuck, look at you," he murmured, leaning in to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. The sensation sent a shockwave through your body, making you clench around him.

A deep, guttural moan tore from his throat as he thrust up into you slightly, meeting your movements. "Shit—keep that up, and I won't last," he warned, voice strained. But you didn't stop. You couldn't. You were too close, too lost in the way he filled you perfectly, the way his body fit against yours like he was made for you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to kiss you, the heat between you both intensifying. Just as he had said, he wouldn’t last much longer. It wasn't just because it felt incredible, but because it was you.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, almost a plea, his thighs tensing beneath you. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, every little sound he made pushing you closer to the edge too, but you weren’t there yet.

You didn’t need to say anything; your body said enough. The way you moved, the way you squeezed him with every roll of your hips—it was too much. His grip on you tightened as he groaned deep, his body shuddering beneath you as he came, his release spilling inside you as you kept moving, letting him ride it out.

But he didn’t stop there—you still needed to finish too, and now it was his turn to take care of you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he buried his face in your neck. Even with his body still trembling from his own release, he started moving again, thrusting up into you with deep, desperate strokes.

A shaky whine escaped his lips as the overstimulation hit him, but he didn’t let up, his grip on you firm, determined. “Gotta make you feel good too,” he murmured against your skin, his voice strained, breathless.

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, your walls fluttering around him, dragging him deeper despite the sensitivity. His name spilled from your lips, hands fisting in his hair as he held you close, chasing your release like it was the only thing that mattered.

His breath was hot against your neck, his movements growing sloppier, more desperate, but he didn’t stop—not until he had you right where he wanted. His fingers slid down between your bodies, finding your most sensitive spot, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made your thighs tremble around him.

"Come on, baby," he coaxed, voice hoarse, lips brushing your ear. Your grip on him tightened as pleasure coiled low in your stomach, the pressure building with every stroke, every thrust. His name tumbled from your lips, breathless and needy, and he groaned at how good you sounded.

And then, with one more deep, well-angled thrust, pleasure crashed over you. Your body tensed before melting into his, a broken moan leaving your lips as your release washed through you. He groaned at the feeling of you tightening around him, his arms holding you steady as you rode out your high.

Even as your body sagged against his, he pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his breaths ragged, shaky. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, tracing slow circles on your back as he helped you come down.

It wasn’t the smartest decision, you knew that. But, in that moment, you felt... satisfied.

You pulled away slightly to meet his eyes. Your friends had been right, maybe you did need to let go of the weight on your shoulders and relax a little.

"Wanna come home?"

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.