#and instead of backing straight back towards me....

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 20

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19

Chrissy is willing to admit that when Steve doesn’t call her after his date, she panics. If her mom wasn’t such a light sleeper, she would’ve snuck out to check up on him. But instead, she wallows, dozing on the couch, not even able to call Jeff to bitch because what if Steve chooses that moment to call?

So, she can admit, when he finally calls a few minutes after seven in the morning, she’s a little short with him.

“Finally, Steven,” she hisses into the phone, keeping her voice quiet so as not to alert her mother to their conversation. “I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he rushes out, sounding contrite. “We sort of fell asleep.”

Chrissy gasps, a smile slowly spreading on her face as the implications set in. “You guys slept together?” she demands gleefully.

“We didn’t have sex!” he shouts, and she’s glad, for the first time, that his parents are so absent from his everyday life. “We just fell asleep!”

She’s still smiling, twirling the phone cord round and round her fingers. “Does that mean it went well?” she wheedles.

She doesn’t think that Eddie would suddenly realize he’s straight and renege on the date, not really, but Steve had, and she can’t get the terrified tone of his voice out of her head.

“Well—” he drawls, leaving her on tenterhooks for a few seconds more. “He took me to see some shitty horror movie.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers, full-on grinning now. “What a stereotypical move.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he replies so wryly that she can almost see the way his eyes must be rolling. “Except he barely talked to me the whole time and didn’t even try to hold my hand.”

“No!”

“And then he took me into the woods like some sort of serial killer, and then tried to kiss me so abruptly that my lip split a little.”

“No!” she shrieks with laughter before catching herself and slapping a palm over her own mouth as Steve’s own amused chuckle filters through the phone line. “And you still spent the night?”

“He was nervous!” Steve defended. “And besides, the second kiss was much better.”

“Your boy’s a fast learner, huh?”

Steve hums, and she wishes he was here with her, so she could see the dopey grin that must be on his face as he says, “yeah,” with a dreamy sigh. “He took me stargazing.”

Chrissy coos, can’t help it, not when this whole thing’s been building for so long now. Not when there’s been an edge of fear to everything Steve’s said for months. He deserves something nice for once.

“And you’re going out again?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replies, and a knot of fear she’s had tucked beneath her sternum loosens.

He sounds excited, happy, hopeful. If Eddie does anything to jeopardize this, Chrissy will be digging a very deep hole and tossing him into it. She’s got a shovel, and the muscle strength built up from years of cheer—she’ll manage just fine.

So, when Eddie walks up to her in the cafeteria in some sort of fucked up parallel to that first time and bends at the waist in a showy bow, hand outstretched as he asks, “a word, madam?” she’s ready to kill him.

But, when she glances at Steve at her side, his ears are red, and he’s smiling up at Eddie from beneath his lashes. And when she looks back toward Eddie she catches the tail-end of a wink that has Steve sputtering.

Even Jason doesn’t protest from the other side of the table where he’s quietly seething.

So, she takes his hand and follows him out of the cafeteria.

Eddie doesn’t seem to know where he’s going, as he walks through the halls, peering into nooks and crannies until he finds a corner he deems suitably vacant enough. He flops down, legs outstretched in front of him, uncaring of the dirt caking the floor.

He pats the spot next to him, smiling up at her, so she slides down the wall and crouches beside him, unwilling to let her bare legs touch the floor.

Eddie leans away from the wall and wrestles his jacket off before placing it on the floor in front of Chrissy. Gratefully, she sits atop it, crossing her legs to keep them safe. She turns her body so she’s facing Eddie dead on, and he follows her lead.

When he doesn’t say anything, she breaks the silence with a quiet, “I hope you know that if you hurt my friend, I’ll kill you.”

“I have no doubt, Lady Cunningham,” Eddie replies, drawing an X across his heart with his finger. “But, I’m not here to talk about Steve.”

“Then—what?”

He’s grimacing now, no longer meeting her eyes as he fiddles with his rings, one of his fingers bizarrely missing its usual adornment. “We’re friends, right?” he asks hesitantly, like he’s choosing each word with deliberate care.

“Of course,” she replies, eyes trained on the little furrow between his brows. He’s picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans, further fraying the edges. “Why would you ask that?”

He sighs, slumping into himself in a way that makes him look small. “I’m glad I’m here, okay?” he asks, not waiting for her to answer before he continues. “Steve’s great, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. But, you still lied to me—"

"We never lied to you," she cuts in, and he waves his hand in assent.

"Yeah, yeah, but you all like, conspired behind my back, and that feels…”

“Shitty,” she continues for him when he seems to lose his words.

“Yeah! Shitty, it feels shitty that you were all talking about me behind my back all so you could keep this from me."

Chrissy sighs. She’d known they’d have to talk about it eventually–clear all this stale air so they could move on–but it doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. But, he’s right; no matter their intentions, they’d all made a mess of things. She’d known that even as she’d been in the thick of it.

So, she starts where these things should always start, and looks him dead in the eye as she says, “I’m sorry.”

He finally looks up, seeming almost surprised. “Just like that?”

“Yes, Eddie, just like that,” she replies, maintaining eye contact even as her gut squirms. “We were just trying to protect each other, but that doesn’t mean it was the right choice.”

His eyes are wide, still shocked, and she wonders, something uncomfortably close to pity bubbling up within her, if he’s not used to receiving apologies at all.

“Both of you?” he asks.

Chrissy averts her gaze, mouth twisting up. “You know how Steve said Jason has been kind of stalkery?” she asks, watching Eddie nod out of the corner of her eye before she continues. “Well, it was worse before. He kept coming to my house and cornering me at school, and I just wanted to move on.”

It was more than that, though. She still remembers the way fear crept down her spine as cold sweat when she’d opened her door to Jason smiling at her like they’d never broken up, the way her throat had closed up when he’d scooted far too close to her side at the lunch table.

The way he kept cornering her in the hallway when no one was around to witness it. 

“So, when I found Steve trying to write that first letter, I struck a deal,” she continues. She feels bad about that, even now, even still. “He’d be my boyfriend, and I’d help him with the letters.”

She finally turns back to Eddie, braced for, what? Condemnation? But he’s squinting at her like she’s a puzzle he’s trying to crack as he says, “you totally would have helped him anyway,” with so much conviction that it warms her. 

“Oh, definitely.”

He’s still looking at her, but he’s smiling at her, eyes warmer than she’s ever seen them. 

“Alright, I forgive you,” Eddie says, like it’s easy.

It’s too easy. 

“Just because we had reasons doesn’t mean it was fair to you,” she replies, steel in her voice as she squares her shoulders and looks at him dead on. “It doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt,” she finishes, reaching out to pat his knee.

He doesn’t jerk away, just looks at her hand on his knee with a peculiar smile on his face. “You know there was a time when you touching me like that would’ve sent me into a tizzy,” he says, still looking down at her hand.

“And now?”

“Nothing,” he replies, shrugging. “It was never you, Chrissy Cunnigham.”

“You either, Eddie Munson,” she replies, matching his smile as she smacks his hand once before withdrawing. “Now is that it, or was there something else you needed?”

He looks away, cheeks darkening to a blotchy red, she’s almost worried he’ll faint. “I, uh, well, the jacket?”

She thinks of Eddie’s jacket beneath her first, but that’s not where he’s looking. His eyes are planted firmly on the sleeve of Steve’s letterman with a sort of longing that’s almost funny in its intensity.

She doesn’t ask any follow up questions—if he wants the jacket, he can have the jacket. After all, it’s Steve’s no matter how attached to it she’s become, and Steve had looked up at him with the sappiest look she’s ever seen on his face.

She’d do more than give up his letterman to keep him happy.

Still, it feels strange when she pulls it off her back. A shiver runs through her–she feels almost naked without its familiar weight. 

Since that first day in the library, it’s been her shield against Jason’s pushy advances, and her reminder that, no matter what happens, she’d still have Steve. 

But, Jason’s backed off, and everywhere she turns, she sees her people: Steve, yes, but Jeff, and Eddie, and the Hellfire boys–even Robin. Her life’s full to bursting in a way that it’s never been before. 

Chrissy will miss it, but she doesn’t need it anymore. Besides, she knows where Steve keeps his spare key, and she’s not above stealing something else from his closet. 

“Jeff’s going to be sad,” she says, patting the bundled fabric in her arms like it’s a favored family pet, feeling strangely choked up. “He really liked it.”

Eddie grimaces down at it and asks, “do I need to get this thing dry cleaned?”

Chrissy throws her head back and laughs. “No, but if you would’ve waited a few more days, you might have.”

He makes a gagging noise, but when she holds it out for him, he readily takes it, even if he doesn’t put it on. She wonders if it’s fear of homophobes or the thought of her and Jeff’s bodily fluids that stops him. She’s polite enough not to ask, even as Eddie says, “Wait, is it you wearing it or him that Jeff likes?”

She opens her mouth to reply, ready to offer up a vague “both,” but Eddie holds up his hand and cuts her off, talking quickly like he’s afraid of what she might say. “Wait, don’t tell me. I really, really don’t need to know.”

Chrissy springs to her feet and picks Eddie’s own leather jacket up off the floor and sliding it on. It’s even baggier than Steve’s was on her, clearly designed for layering. “I’m borrowing this,” she says, turning her back on him and making her way toward her next class just as the warning bell rings. “It’s cold today.”

“Don’t do any weird sex things with it!” Eddie calls.

She laughs again, making a point to neither confirm nor deny her intentions no matter what he yells after her retreating back.

When Jeff slides into her passenger seat after school, he quirks a brow at her new look, and asks, “that Eddie’s?” as he buckles his seatbelt.

“He wanted Steve’s,” she says, reaching out to pat his knee consolingly.

“I’m going to miss that jacket,” Jeff sighs, looking genuinely forlorn for a second before he gets a particular gleam in his eye that Chrissy’s becoming increasingly familiar with. “You know—”

“Eddie requested that we don’t ‘do any weird sex things’ with his jacket,” she cuts in, putting her car in reverse and slowly backing out of the spot.

Jeff groans like he’d been shot, and throws his head back into the headrest. She reaches out to dig her fingernails into his knee, just this side of too-hard so his groan shifts into a hiss.

“I know, baby,” she says, smiling sweetly at him as they pull away from the school. “But, I’ll get your mind off it in no time.”

Jeff gulps, and doesn’t utter another complaint for the rest of the night.

***

Robin watches Chrissy follow Eddie out of the cafeteria. Even after the door closes behind them, she keeps staring, wanting desperately to know what they’re talking about. This might have all started because of her crush on Chrissy, but Robin’s nosy at heart, so even as the flames of her crush burn down to embers, she wants to know.

Steve had called her on Saturday, spilling all the details of what sounded like a truly horrible date as if it was some sort of fairy tale while Robin cackled in his ear. But he’d sounded buoyant with exhilaration, and all Robin had been able to think about was that he’s like her and he’s happy.

Maybe there’s hope for her, too.

Robin’s broken out of her reverie by a shoulder bumping into hers. “Should we help him?” Vickie whispers, and it takes Robin a minute to snap her eyes away from her vibrant green eyes to follow her gaze over to Steve.

All the losers he’s still pretending to be friends are jeering at him, Tommy H. going so far as to slip into Chrissy’s vacant seat so he can jostle Steve around with a decidedly unfriendly look on his face while Steve picks halfheartedly at his lunch.

Robin’s out of her seat before she can even think about it, palms slapping noisily on the table as she calls. “Harrington!” Steve perks up, metaphorical tail wagging as he meets her eyes from across the room. “Come help me win a bet!”

He’s up and out of his seat in a matter of seconds, leaving the remains of his lunch abandoned on his table as he trots over, slipping into the empty seat across from her while all the other band kids look at him like he’s got the plague.

“What’s the bet?” he asks, looking far more relaxed already than he had while surrounded by his supposed friends.

Robin kicks him under the table as she replies, “the bet was whether you’d come when you’re called.”

“Oh, hardy har har,” he mocks, kicking her right back until she links both her feet around his ankle and yanks him so he damn near falls off his seat.

“Poor little puppy,” she coos, reaching across the table to pat his head while he bats her hand away.

Vickie’s laughing from beside her; it rings through Robin’s ears like church bells. She gets stuck, staring at the pink of her cheeks, the red of her hair, the mirth in her emerald green eyes, hand still outstretched toward Steve’s hair.

He kicks her again, and she snatches her hand back, grateful for the intervention until she catches sight of the knowing look Steve’s shooting her. In retaliation, she grabs one of her carrot sticks and tries to shove it down his throat.

“Not a word, Harrington, or we’re through,” she hisses, finally succeeding in shoving the carrot into his mouth.

“You guys are so funny,” Vickie says, still laughing.

Steve smiles, carrot sticking out of his mouth like it’s a cigar until he bites into it with a snap, seeming oddly satisfied.

Chrissy and Eddie don’t come back, and by the time lunch is over, the rest of the band kids have finally stopped sitting there like scared lemmings, waiting for King Steve Harrington to attack. She’s sure they’ll soon learn what Robin already knows: the king is dead, long live the king.

She loves him so much, it’s almost stupid.

“So, Steve Harrington, huh?” Vickie asks, inexplicably walking out of the cafeteria with her even though Robin knows for a fact her class is on the opposite side of the school.

“I mean, yeah?” Robin replies, feeling her face heat from the inside out. “He’s just like, not what I was thinking at all, and maybe the best friend I’ve ever had, which is crazy—it’s crazy, because it’s Steve Harrington, right?” Her hands, she realizes with horror, are miming an explosion above her head while her mouth makes a weird, crackling explosion sound. “Who would’ve guessed?”

When she finally gets her mouth flapping under control, Vickie’s smiling at her, walking close enough that the sleeve of her sweater brushes against Robin’s bare arm.

“I don’t know, I always thought he seemed nice.”

Robin’s nodding along like one of those bobble head hula girls that boys are always putting in their cars, even though Steve Harrington isn’t nice. He’s an unmitigated bitch with a sacrificial streak a mile wide, but he’s not nice.

“He’s like a stray that I let into my house one time, and then my mom fed him, so now he keeps following me home,” her mouth says.

Vickie’s mouth laughs in return, so maybe it’s not all that bad.

Robin’s mind replays the angelic sound as she walks into her class, waving goodbye to Vickie as the other girl rushes away in a mad dash to make it on time to her next class.

God, Steve’s going to be such a bitch about this.

 ***

After Eddie’s talk with Chrissy, things shift.

Steve doesn’t sit with the jocks at all anymore. He and Chrissy, still joined at the hip like they really are dating, shift back and forth between the band geeks and the hellfire tables at lunch on Tuesday, prompting hushed whispers to filter through the entire cafeteria.

For his part, all Gareth says is, “does this mean you two’s weird feud over Chrissy is finally over?”

Jeff snorts chocolate milk out of his nose while Eddie laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bench entirely, only staying upright because Steve props him up.

“What?” Gareth demands, tearing into his chicken strips with a viciousness that betrays his ire.

“They’ll tell you when you’re older,” Doug replies despite having no idea himself.

Eddie loves his friends so fucking much.

By Wednesday, a clearly fed up Robin frog-marches the pair of them to the Hellfire table and plops down beside them.

“Munson, I can’t do this split custody thing anymore,” she says, making the red-head that’d followed her over giggle. “They’re too much of a handful.”

“Or maybe even two handfuls,” Steve replies, across the table at her like he’s not playing the most overt game of footsie right below it.

“Don’t be gross, dingus,” she scoffs, and Eddie’s mind goes galloping off with thoughts he shouldn’t be having in a room full of teenagers just waiting to push someone a few more rungs down the ladder.

“Are you guys coming back to Hellfire?” Gareth asks, clearly unable to stand not knowing what’s going on a second longer.

Steve looks at Eddie, brown eyes devastating beneath his lashes. “I’d like to.”

Eddie opens his mouth, ready to grovel at Steve’s feet to get him to come, to get him to keep looking at him like that, but then Robin cuts in with a sly, “you know this means you’ll have to come to Steve’s basketball games,” and he slams his mouth shut.

Steve grins, all seduction dropping off his face as he reaches across the table to give Robin a high five like they’re already on the fucking court. She slaps his palm hard enough that the sound of skin on skin damn-near shatters the sound barrier.

“We can sit together,” Jeff says, but he’s not even looking at Eddie, eyes trained on Chrissy’s blushing face. “It’ll be fun.”

Eddie groans and lets gravity overtake him, dropping his head to the table so suddenly that it would have hurt if Steve hadn’t put his palm over the spot just in time. Eddie turns his face so he can glare up at the other boy, but Steve looks so hopeful and excited that he has to look away again, burying his face into Steve’s palm.

“Fine, I’ll go,” he drawls, lips brushing against Steve’s hand with each word.

“What the hell is happening?” Gareth demands.

Much to his dismay, no one replies.

Things slide back to normal after that—Chrissy and Steve showing up to band practice and hellfire and lunch like nothing had ever come between them. But, it’s better now because Steve knocks their feet together beneath tables, and lets his hands settle on knees and stares just a little too long at Eddie’s lips.

It’s driving him crazy; he wants to reach out and touch, reach out and take.

But that’s not something that’s allowed. Boys are born in their own, invisible bubbles to keep them from touching other boys. Eddie doesn’t know how he never noticed it before, but he wants to shatter it like glass, let it cut up his feet if it means he can brush his lips against Steve’s.

There are all these rules left unwritten, but flung at their feet like slurs: don’t stand too close, don’t look too long, don’t dare to touch.

He wants to, though, thinks maybe in the confines of Gareth’s garage and behind the closed doors of the drama room he could, and it would be safe.

But they live in Hawkins, Indiana, and he’d like to live long enough to get the hell out of here.

So he lets their feet tangle beneath tables and doesn’t lean across them to have a taste, no matter how often Steve licks his lips.

Friday can’t come soon enough.

***

Robin’s been twitchy for days by the time she pulls Steve into their bathroom stall. He follows her dutifully, only laughing a little as she pulls a towel out of her backpack and lays it down before sitting on the floor.

“You plan this, Birdie?” he asks, settling across from her, the towel beneath them insulating him from the cold that’s seeping up from the floor.

Robin’s face turns a blotchy red like a blood vessel burst and dispersed beneath her skin. “Boobies,” she blurts, staring at him with beseeching eyes before she slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Steve nods, his attempt at sage wisdom undercut by the way he has to bite his lip to stop from laughing at her. “Boobies, yes,” he chokes out. “I’ve, uh, heard of them.”

That’s all it takes for Robin to kick out at him. When her foot gets dangerously close to his crotch, Steve grabs her ankle and cradles her foot in his lap, rubbing the bone.

“Don’t make fun of me!” she whines, still trying to kick him.

“Okay, okay!” he cries out, chuckling as he holds onto her leg for dear life. “Sorry, just—what’s this about boobies?”

“Stop saying boobies!”

Steve uses his free hand to lock up his mouth and toss the invisible key into the toilet, smiling as the blush on Robin’s cheeks creeps up her nose and onto her forehead until she resembles an especially square tomato.

“Vickie—”

And Steve can’t help it, he really, really can’t. “Has nice boobies?” he cuts in, already grabbing at both her legs to stop her jackrabbiting feet from finally landing a blow to his balls.

“I hate you!” Robin shrieks, but even she’s laughing now as she writhes atop the towel, scrunching it as she earth-worm-inches closer to him so she can slap at his ribs while he’s defenseless. “Steve Harrington, you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

She tries to say it with conviction, but Steve’s hands have crept beneath her crew socks, and his fingers are tickling against the inside arch of her foot, so her words come out more as shaky exhalations of laughter. He wiggles his fingers as she squirms away, kicking out with such reckless abandon that one of her feet breaks free and kicks him far too high on his inner thigh for comfort.

“Get your boy cooties off me!” she demands, and he does, pulling his hands out of her socks as she backs away until she’s leaning against the opposite side of the wall again, pouting at him. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, feeling lighter than air. “Now tell me about Vickie’s girl cooties.”

Robin smiles bashfully, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. “Vickie doesn’t have cooties,” Robin replies, gaze distant. She looks wistful, enamored, hopeful. “She walked me to class the other day, even though I know it made her late.”

“Yeah?” Steve prompts, helpless to do anything but to smile back.

“Yeah,” she replies. “And maybe it’ll be like Chrissy again, you know? But you and Eddie…” Robin kicks out at him again, nudging her foot into his and then leaving it there, their soles pressed together. “Maybe there’s more of us out there than I thought.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, absolutely in love with brave, hopeful, honest Robin, here in this stall, in this moment. “Maybe there are.”

They smile at each other, two queer kids in the bathroom together, seeing themselves in each other, again, and again, and again. Steve hopes they’ll always be like this, here, on the bathroom floor, finding hope in each other’s smiles. He has Chrissy, and Jeff, and Eddie now, too. But, Robin will always be the first person who looked at him and made him feel seen.

“We should get married,” he says, not thinking about it before it comes out of his mouth and hangs in the air between them, making Robin’s eyes bug out of her skull. “Just think about it! Eddie and I can’t get married, and neither can you and Vickie—”

“You’ve literally gone out with the guy once, and we don’t even know if Vickie likes girls yet—”

“—but we could totally just marry each other instead!”

The silence of the bathroom rings once Steve’s declaration is out there. Robin swallows, throat bobbing, eyes wide enough that Steve can see the little red veins near the back. Suddenly, Steve wonders if he’s stepped over some line he didn’t even know was there.

Before he can spiral too far, Robin launches herself across the space between them, knees bracketing Steve’s hips as she leans over and bites his shoulder, hard.

“Ow, Robin!”

“You’re insane, Dingus, you know that?” she asks, moving away from his shoulder to plant a kind of wet kiss against his forehead. “I’m sixteen, and you’re proposing in the boy’s bathroom.”

She rubs her hand against his head, likely fucking his hair up beyond repair, but he doesn’t even care because she kisses him again, this time on the top of his head.

“I meant like, later?” Steve says shyly.

He’s always fallen hard and fast, knows that about himself. It’s a fundamental law of the universe: gravity makes things fall down, the earth’s always spinning on an axis, and Steve Harrington puts his whole heart into people who don’t always give it back.

But Robin’s on his lap, kissing his head, and leaking what’s either snot or tears into his hair. “Alright,” she warbles, sounding embarrassingly soggy. “When I get a girlfriend, we can just be permanent beards for each other.”

Steve puts his arms around her and hugs her tight, mashing his face awkwardly into her neck as she laughs. “Grow old in separate bedrooms,” he replies.

“Gotta keep our cooties separate,” she says, like she’s not currently dripping on him on the floor of the boy’s grimy bathroom.

He just squeezes her tighter and gives her a little shake, like a dog with its favorite toy. “Tell me about Vickie,” he demands, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you when it comes from his mouth.

“Okay,” she replies, and it sounds a lot like I love you, too.

PART 21

[cameronsprincess]

Hot Coco + Movie ☕️ — could i get a dark!reader and dark!rafe where rafe doesn’t even know the girl he’s into shares some of the same kinks until he actually tries it on her? 🖤🩷 (stalking, mask kink, chasing, knife/blood play, masochism/sadism) *rafe and reader aren’t together but rafe is obsessed with her not knowing she is also obsessed with him and possibly darker than he is) sorry if that didn’t make sense and if it’s too much😭🤞🏼

babeeee your request is so yummy🤤 it’s never too much, i love this and i love you!🖤

CW: smut! 18+ only! dark!rafe x dark!reader, mutual obsession, stalking (rafe follows reader in this + she admits to stalking him), slight knife play, blood play, choking, piv sex, strong language, praise and degrading. rafe’s pov.

5k blurbs/moodboards m.list

Rafe.

the nighttime air was cool, an occasional gust of wind slapping against my face with every step i took. it was a little past midnight, and i should be home, in bed getting rest for a day of working with my dad tomorrow. but when i peered out my window and saw her sneaking out the side door of her house, i had to follow.

i look up for a moment, placing my eyes back on her, the only girl worth getting out and walking aimlessly around the streets of the cut for. where the fuck is she going? we’ve been walking for close to an hour now. not that i should care, she’s not even mine. but she will be, she just doesn’t know it yet.

lowering my head, i place my hands in the pocket of my hoodie, my fingers lightly grazing over the handle of my knife. my cock jerks in my sweatpants at the thought of pressing the blade against her neck, my lips claiming hers for the first time, forcing her to realize she’s mine and always has been.

i lift my head again, wanting to have my eyes on her perfect ass, but when i look up, she’s gone. what the fuck? where did she go? she was just-

my thoughts die out, the feeling of a sharp object pressed into my back making me straighten my spine, muscles tense and jaw clenched. i swear to fucking god, these pogues are somethin’ else.

chuckling, i pull my hands from my hoodie pocket and raise them slowly, “look, you might as well just fuckin’ kill me, because i ain’t giv-”

“rafe cameron. why the fuck are you following me?”

the sweet sound of her voice has my muscles relaxing. i lower my hands to my side, slowly turning to face her. the moment my eyes lock with hers, heat floods my veins, my cock jerking and thickening in my sweatpants. she’s a fucking goddess, and the way she’s tightly gripping her own knife, pressing it into my chest? fuck me. the full moon illuminates her features beautifully, making her eyes sparkle more than they do in the sunlight.

“just makin’ sure a pretty girl like you is safe. i mean, s’not safe on these streets late at night, never know who’s watchin’ you or planning on grabbing you and using you.”

her eyes narrow into slits, her head cocking to the side just the slightest. she lets out a laugh, the sound going straight to my aching dick.

“oh, rafe, trust me when i say… i can take care of my fucking self,” she pauses, pulling the blade from my chest and taking a step back from me. “tell me the real fuckin’ reason you’re following me.”

i don’t speak, instead i study every inch of her face. my eyes run down from the top of her head, over her eyes, nose and end on her perfect lips. she’s such a fucking sight, one i wish i could hide away and keep for myself only. no one else deserves to see her fucking beauty, no one else is fucking good enough to see her face, her body, any of it. she’s mine.

i step toward her and she lifts her knife again. i chuckle at the action, my hands reaching out to grip her wrist. the knife falls from her hand, the sound of it clanking against the ground echoing through the otherwise quite air. she gasps, my hand tightening around her small wrists and yanking her into me. i run my free hand down the side of her face, pulling the most beautiful fucking whimper from her lips. she surprises me when she melts into my touch, leaning her face into my hand that rests on her cheek.

“oh, princess, that is the real reason… well, that and the fact that i plan on fucking you tonight,” she gasps, her eyes meeting mine. something dark flashes across her features, just for a second and then it’s gone, but it was there. “did you know… that i’ve been fuckin’ obsessed with you since the moment i saw you?”

a grin slowly spreads across her lips, the sight making my chest tighten. “yeah?” she pauses, taking advantage of my being distracted by her to rip herself from my hold, bending down to grab her knife and pressing it back into my chest, “what if i said… i’ve also been obsessed with you? what if i said… i’m responsible for all the bitches you touch ending up hurt? what if i said… i’ve watched you every day for the last two years? not a single move you make has gone unnoticed by me…”

sexual tension wraps itself around us, squeezing us so tightly i feel like i can’t breathe. fuck, this girl drives me fuckin’ crazy… i step farther into her, the sharp point of her knife pressing further into my chest when i do. i place a hand behind her head, my fingers wrapping around the strands and pulling, yanking her neck into an awkward position, forcing those fuck-me eyes of hers on mine.

“oh? are you trying to fuckin’ turn me on?” i walk us backward until her back is pressed against a worn brick wall, she gasps, the hold on her knife loosening in her hold when i press my hips into her, letting her feel how fucking hard i am for her. “because it’s working… you feel that? that’s what you do to me, pretty girl.”

a moan slips from her lips and send a jolt of pleasure straight to my throbbing cock. i slap her hand from my chest, her knife clattering onto the ground below again. my eyes dart across her face, dropping down to her pouty lips and then need to kiss her, claim her, takes over.

i dip my head down, claiming her lips with mine in a heated and hungry kiss. she melts into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and jumping, her legs wrapping around my waist. i force my tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers. the taste of her mouth on my tongue has my cock throbbing, a bead of precum leaking from my tip. i have to be inside her, now.

i break my lips from hers, “you drive me so goddamn crazy. i need to be inside this sweet fucking pussy, now.”

she smirks, her eyes dark as she opens her mouth to speak. “i know a place, let’s go.”

she unwraps her legs from around me, allowing me to gently place her on her feet. she’s grasping my hand in hers, quickly grabbing her knife off the ground, closing it and shoving it into her back pocket before she’s dragging me across the empty streets. we reach a small, abandoned looking house within a few minutes, and my brow furrows when she begins digging into her pocket, pulling out a key and slipping it into the lock on the door.

once she gets it unlocked and open, she yanks me inside, slamming it shut behind her.

“what is this place?” i ask, my eyes taking in the dark, musty space. it’s pretty cleaned up inside, the floors are kinda rotting and the pain on the walls are chipped, but besides that, it’s not too bad.

she walks me toward a cream colored leather couch, pushing me down onto it and straddling my lap, arms around my neck as she presses her lips against mine again, grinding her clothed pussy against my dick.

“this place, is my little sanctuary. it’s where i come to escape the lavish life you and i both live. it’s also where i bring the girls who think they can talk to you and not be punished for it.”

my eyes widen at the last words, but my cock also throbs. does she really fuckin’ bring the girls i talk to here? what does she do to them? i have so many questions, but they’re all minuscule compared to what’s right in front of me. her lips trail down my jaw and to my neck, her teeth nipping at my skin as she continues to roll her hips against mine.

“fuck, baby. keep that up and i just might cum right now.” i rasp, my hands curling around her waist, pushing her further into me.

she grins, and the sight alone takes my fucking breath away. i watch with lust-filled eyes as she removes her arms from around my neck, removing her sweatshirt and tossing it to the floor. i suck in a sharp breath, her perfect tits in my face, hard nipples begging to be sucked on, bitten.

i remove one hand from around her waist, cupping her tit in my hand and squeezing. “fuck, they’re more perfect than i imagined they’d be.”

she moans, her tongue darting out to lick up the side of my neck, sending a shudder rushing through me. i massage her breast in my palm, toying with her hard nipple before dipping my head down, sucking her other nipple into my mouth. my teeth sink into the hard flesh, making her whimper and tremble in my lap.

“rafe, stop being such a fucking tease and fuck me.” she demands. i release her nipple with a pop, blowing cool air onto the bud and watching as she shakes.

“so fucking demanding.. i don’t really think you’re in a position to make demands, do you?”

she laughs, but it holds no humor. she’s off my lap in a flash, pulling her knife from her back pocket and flipping it open. i go to stand, but before i can even move a muscle, she has the blade pressed against my throat, something dark coasting across her face as she does. my cock jerks and i lean myself into her, allowing the blade to lightly knick my skin, a small pool of blood trailing down my throat.

“didn’t i tell you? this shit fucking turns me on,” i pause, gripping her wrist in my hand and knocking the blade from her grip. i quickly grab it, placing her own knife against her throat, “now, lick it fucking clean.”

her eyes meet mine, her pupils blown, making her eyes look black from how big they are. she leans in, allowing the blade to lightly knick her own skin before she sticks out her tongue, slowly licking up the trail of blood from my collar bone and up to my jaw. fuck. this girl is going to be my downfall. but i don’t fucking care. she’s mine, and i’m hers.

she wraps her lips around the sensitive flesh of my neck, right where her knife knicked, and she starts sucking, not pulling back until she’s cleaned every last drop of blood and a dark, purple bruise is left. i pull the knife from her neck, letting it drop to the floor and copying her actions. once satisfied with my mark, i claim her lips again, our tongues swirling together, the taste of our blood mixed together making the need for her cloud my mind.

not breaking her lips from mine, she runs her hands down my sides, her fingertips reaching the waistband of my sweats. she digs her fingers into the grey fabric, tugging lightly. i take the hint, lifting myself off the couch, keeping her in place with my hands beneath her ass. her arms go around my neck, and i remove one hand from her ass, pulling my sweats down my legs and allowing my painfully hard cock to spring free. i work at her leggings next, pulling at the fabric so hard it tears from her body. she gasps against my lips, her eyes landing on mine with a “what the fuck” look on her face.

“rafe! i have nothing else to wear when we leave here!”

“don’t worry, baby. i’ll let you wear my hoodie. you’re coming home with me after this anyways.”

she rolls her eyes, slapping her hand against my chest in a playful manner. i slowly place her feet back on the ground, pulling my hoodie up and over my head, tossing it to the ground. her hands fly to my chest, perfectly manicured nails digging into my skin and dragging down.

“goddamn.” i rasp, hissing in a breath from the sting of her pointy nails breaking skin.

she pushes me back into the couch, climbing into my lap, straddling me. she grinds her wet pussy against my length, moaning as she does. she slightly lifts her hips, gripping my cock in one hand and pumping me slowly, making me groan from how fucking good it feels. she lines my swollen head up with her entrance, pressing the tip into her but i quickly stop her, realizing i don’t have a condom.

“wait, i don’t have a-”

she slaps her palm against my face, cutting off my words as she sinks herself down on my cock, filling her pussy to the hilt.

she leans forward, her lips ghosting across mine as she whispers, “i don’t fucking care.”

my eyes roll to the back of my head, a low groan falling from me when she begins rolling her hips. she feels so fucking good, so wet and tight. her pussy walls squeeze against my dick, making it twitch with need.

i grip her wrist, pulling it from my mouth and twisting it behind her back, “such a filthy fucking slut, aren’t you? just had to have me raw, yeah?” i buck my hips upward and she moans, her head falling into the crook of my neck. “god, i bet you fucking get yourself off to the thought of this, huh? my cock buried deep inside this sweet fucking cunt, my cum painting your walls white and leaking down your thighs when i’m done. my perfect fucking slut, aren’t you baby?”

she pills her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to stifle her moans, but i’m not having that. i want to fucking hear her scream for me. i press my thumb on her lower lip, pulling it from between her teeth, “no baby, i wanna fucking hear you. let me hear how good i’m making you feel.”

i grip both her hips, halting her movements. her eyes find mine, and i give her a smirk before i begin thrusting my hips, pounding into her greedy hole like my fucking life depends on it— and at this point, it just might. her moans fill the room, cries of pleasure falling past her lips.

her pussy squeezes around my dick, trying to milk my cock dry. i pull her off me, tossing her onto her back on the couch. her tits bounce from the force and i can’t contain the groan that escapes me. i grip her upper arm, flipping her onto her stomach and slapping her ass, hard. she whines, burying her face into the leather cushions. i slip my hands under her body, lifting her hips so her ass is in the air. my mouth waters from the sight of her glistening cunt, her arousal slowly leaking down her thighs. i grip myself, jerking a few times before slamming myself back into her.

she digs her nails into the couch, screaming out my name when i hit the deepest part of her pussy repeatedly, loving the way her walls contract around me when i do. i lean over her back, wrapping my bicep around her throat and pulling her back flush into my front. i squeeze, taking away her air as i continue to pound my cock inside her.

my dick swells, my thrusts becoming sloppy as she starts to come undone around me. we’ll have to work on that, she’ll only ever be allowed to cum when i tell her she can.

“that’s it, baby. such a good fucking girl, coming all over my cock like the little cock slut you are.”

she tries to speak, but my bicep wrapped tightly around her throat only allows unintelligible sounds out. her body shakes in my hold, and i bury my face in her neck, my teeth biting down hard just as my balls draw tight. i push myself deep inside her one final time, holding myself there as long, slow spurts of my cum fill her cunt.

her nails dig into my forearm, begging me to loosen my hold on her. i finally do, allowing her to fall forward and suck in sharp gasps of air. i slip my softening dick from inside her, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. she whimpers, and i dig my fingers into her hair, lifting her head back up off the couch. i force her neck sideways, placing my lips against hers in a searing kiss. when i finally pull myself from her, i run my nose up the side of her cheek, inhaling her intoxicating scent. my lips ghost across her ear, making her shudder.

“you’re mine now, you got it?” i rasp, nipping at the lobe of her ear.

she chuckles, the sound shooting straight to my dick again.

“and you’re mine, rafe cameron. don’t you fucking forget it. i will kill you if you think you can leave me, and i’ll kill anyone else who thinks she even has a chance.”

tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @rafesthroatbaby @bloodibambiidoll @babygorewhore @rafeyscurtainbangs @cherrygirlfriend @redhead1180 @jjsbaby @nemesyaaa

[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter One

also on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag to find other chapters | warnings: pre- s1 (for now), profanity, mentions of death and addiction

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter One:

The undercity was certainly something.

Especially at night, when shadows extended their smoky tendrils to allow those dabbling in unsavoury business to lurk, gloomy buildings hiding things you’d be safer off not knowing within. People milling about, going about their private, dangerous business.

Water splashed across the street as your foot landed in a puddle, ankle twisting the wrong way as you tore through the filthy streets, enforcers hot on your heels. All this for heckling an officer? You clutched your shawl around you as the wind almost buffered it away.

It was ridiculous.

After bumping into a large man, a mother and her child, and knocking over a crate of sludge-y creatures, shouts trailing after you, you found an alleyway to disappear into. You scrambled up some wooden beams, eventually emerging onto the flat roof of the low, squatting building. You watched the idiotic Pilties run straight ahead, missing your small detour entirely, and scoffed, stepping away from the edge.

You turned, and made your way across the rooftops of Zaun. 

You’d reached an impasse. Well, not really- nothing a simple jump couldn’t fix. You squinted down into the dusty darkness of the narrow alley below your feet. This part of the undercity was silent- but you could hear the lapping water, and knew you were close to the river.

Vaulting over a concrete bar and pushing off with your feet, you landed on the other side of the gap with a thud. The roof shook, and you yelped as a tile slid off the edge, and crashed into the darkness.

Holding your breath, you heard nothing. The water continued to rumble. You turned to leave.

Until- 

“Fuck.”

You froze in horror. 

Creeping back towards the piped edge of the roof, weight on the backs of your feet, you peered into the darkness. The glowing end of a cigarette burned orange. You gulped.

A man emerged, stepping into your view. His brow was furrowed. Your hands were shaking. “I-I’m sorry!” You called out, and he scowled. 

“You nearly hit me!” He almost-yelled back. But taking a look at your face his expression softened. Against better judgement, you slid down the pipe, feet landing on the ground with an oof.

He looked at you, eyebrows raised. Someone in the undercity coming down to personally apologise for something like that instead of laughing in one’s face and running away was rare. He looked at the apologetic look on your face, and watched as you opened your mouth to speak while also stretching out your hand.

“I’m sorry…”

He reached for your hand too, ready to dismissively accept your apology and move on with his night.

“…But can I have a cigarette?”

His expression dropped.

You lazily took the cigarette from his hands and took a long, deep drag, tendrils of smoke curling from your mouth. At his frown, you moved it from your lips to speak.

“What? You don’t have herpes, do you? I’m not going to get it, am I?”

Wordlessly, he shook his head. You studied his face. Strong features, blue-green eyes. He wasn’t half bad looking.

I wouldn’t mind getting an STD from him.

Without a single reaction to your rather graphic thought you took another drag on the cigarette, before handing it back to him. “Thanks. Not everyone here knows that sharing is caring.”

He laughs, guarded, and then stops himself, surprised such a sound even came out at your words. You smiled at him sweetly. “And sorry for almost hitting your head and bashing it in with a tile. Though it wasn’t my fault, was it?”

“I suppose it was an accident,” he said stiffly, a strand of hair falling in front of his face. He dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his heel. “Miss…”

“[name]. Janna, I really needed to calm my nerves.” You stretched, arching your back like a cat, feeling the bones pop and muscles stretch deliciously. The man wet his lips, looking out at the street through the alley.

“And why would that be?” His voice was smooth. You readjusted your shawl. 

“Some enforcers were chasing me. The usual.” You let out a slow sigh, going to leave the alley without as much as a goodbye. He didn’t say anything, just watched you leave.

You planted a foot out into the street.

“That’s her!” 

You whipped your head around, watching a gaggle enforcers charging towards you. A scream tore from your lips you rushed back into the alleyway. The man grabbed you as you almost crashed into his chest.

“Fucking run!”

Shimmying up the pipe, you were back on the roof. You didn’t spare a turn to look back as your heavy lunges rattled the roofs, leaping over bars and gaps. You turned and saw an enforcer slip through a gap in the roofs, crashing into the street below. The man from the alley was just at your shoulder. Without a sparing a second you turned and left.

Once you were certain you’d lost the enforcers you stopped, chest heaving, and slumped onto the ground- roof- beneath you. The man stayed standing, eyeing you with an unreadable expression.

“Okay,” you gasped, turning over. “Now I’m actually sorry.” Coughing while trying to catch your breath you extended a hand. “Do you have water or something? I’m sorry.”

He let out a heavy sigh, not knowing how to behave in this situation as he took out a flask, crouching down and holding it out to you as you continuously mumbled apologies. You gulped down the water inside. “It isn’t poisoned, is it?” You sighed, wiping your mouth as you handed it back. He sat down as he took it, joining you on the slanted roof. 

“You only think to ask that after you’ve downed half the thing?” His voice was filled with amusement. You ignored him.

“I’m sorry, mister…”

“Silco.”

You stared at him as he took out another cigarette, patting his pockets for a lighter. Without a word you took one out, flicking it open and pushing down to activate the flame. You held it in front of his face. “I’m sorry, Silco.”

The cigarette lit up. You studied his profile, mainly the line of his sharp nose as he inhaled deeply.

“It’s fine. Why do you keep apologizing?”

“I got you involved in a chase with enforcers after almost dropping a tile on your head and taking your cigarette.”

“You didn’t have to take the cigarette,” he muttered, miffed. You ignored him, the lighter snapping shut. “And my plans for the night have been ruined…”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. He looked at you, chuckling. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, if you want.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Such generosity is rare.”

“Not generosity. Justice.”

He laughed again, at your dramatics this time as he rolled the cigarette in between his long fingers. “Right. Justice.”

“So, one favour.”

“That’s a dangerous offer, [name].” A thought struck him, and he furrowed his brow. “Don’t tell me you’re from topside.”

You stared at him for a minute, then scoffed. “Of course I’m not. What makes you think that?”

“Your naivety.” He blew smoke from his lungs, and you watched as it curled over the rooftops. “It’s not a good idea to go around offering favours to strangers.”

“I’m as much of a trencher as you are, Silco,” you scoffed.

At this, he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You stared at him in shock as his lip curled, expression furious. You blinked, unmoving. 

“Zaunite.”

“Wh-what?”

“Use Zaunite. Not the name they gave us.” His grip on your wrist loosened before falling away completely. You nodded.

“Right.”

It fell silent.

“And I’ll never cash in that favour.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“Because, it’s a stupid idea. If anything, I’m doing you a favour.” Another drag. You turned over to look at the sky.

“Thanks… I guess?”

He chuckled again, smoke curling from in between his teeth. Your face felt warm. “You’re strange.”

“So I’ve been told. What exactly were the plans for your night that I so rudely ruined?”

He didn’t say anything.

“I hope you weren’t visiting a cathouse.”

He groaned, and you laughed, snatching the cigarette off of him. He didn’t stop you. “Certainly not. Not for the cats, at least.”

“The cats?”

“The women, [name].”

“Well, what else would you go there for?”

“You’d be surprised.”

You frown. “Right… so no prostitutes.”

“Definitely not. It’s an immoral practice.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “A trencher with morals. I see.”

“Zaunite,” he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, sucking on the cigarette. “Well, I don’t care. They’re just making a living.”

“And what would you consider immoral?”

You blew out a cloud of smoke, and for a moment you considered saying something that he’d agree with, racking your brains for an appropriate answer. He clearly hated topside…

“What those Pilties are doing. Their prejudice against us,” you said proudly. He gave a small laugh.

“Right. Everyone thinks that. Something unique, please.”

You stayed silent. “Well… I do believe capitalising on addiction is quite immoral.”

“Ironic, considering that cigarette you’re holding.”

“There are extremes.” Your voice was low, and it was clear there was a story behind the subject. He didn’t press you, simply watching you put out the cigarette on the tin roof, your appetite for nicotine crushed.

After a quiet moment you spoke. “My sister was pregnant. Some… drug lord got her hooked onto something.” You rested your head down. “It was dangerous. They don’t make it anymore.” He hummed silently. “I lost both her and the baby. And she was all I had left, so…”

“The father?”

You scoffed, and that told him more than he needed to know.

“That… drug… business owner… whatever he was- he didn’t need money. He was filthy rich,” you spat. “A-“ your eyes slid to Silco- “A Zaunite, hoarding money, sucking life out of his own people, and not sharing a single drop. I hate that bastard.”

“What became of him?”

“Business crushed, killed by enforcers.” Your response was curt.

He hummed. “Well, in that case, I certainly won’t go down that path.”

“…I suppose I won’t work in a brothel either.”

“Or own one,” he added. You laughed.

“Or own one.”

You sighed gently, standing up. “Well, I hope whatever business you missed gets resolved. Goodbye, Silco.” You made to climb down to the street.

“Wait-“

You looked up.

“You said you don’t have anyone. If you’re ever… looking for company, go to the Last Drop. Tell the bartender you’re looking for Silco.”

Your eyes enlarged as you stowed the name in your memory. “The Last Drop,” you repeated, then nodded.

“Goodbye, [name].” 

You smiled again, and dropped down into the crowd.

When you looked back up to the sky, to the roof, he was gone.

-

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 5

Masterpost Ao3

“So hypothetically,” Superboy begins, glancing over at Robin. “Say I met another meta, and they, like, needed a civilian identity...” He trails off, listening intently. Trying to get anything from Robin's expression is pointless - between his skill at maintaining his composure, and the expression obscuring mask, there's not a lot to be read on his face. Instead Superboy focuses on his heartbeat, which speeds up the smallest amount as Robin turns away from the tablet he'd been working with, and settles his full attention directly onto Superboy.

“Hypothetically,” Robin repeats.

“Yeah. You know, in theory, if that ever happened.” Robin stares at Superboy for a moment, presumably reading everything that's missing from his own face in Superboy's.

“Well. In theory, the Justice League has the means to grant any meta hero a full identity. Is this about you? Because honestly it's insane that they haven't bothered yet, and I will straight up make you one right now if you-”

“No, it's not about me,” Superboy interrupts. “But like, you could do that? Without the Justice League’s support, I mean?. Like, say if this hypothetical person really didn't want the Justice League knowing about them?”

“You met a meta who doesn't like the Justice League.”

“I don't think it's really about the Justice League specifically. I mean, they definitely don't exist, but if they did, then I would say that the second I showed up they were bracing for a fight. Like before they even saw who I was.” Robin sets his tablet to the side without looking, and leans just a touch towards Superboy as he talks. It's honestly wild, he thinks, how the other boy can manage such intense eye contact through white lenses, but, well, that's the bats for you.

“Theoretically, I could absolutely make this person an identity, if they did exist. But I would want to meet them first.”

“Cool, cool,” Superboy says leaning back into the couch. “I offered to introduce you and they said they'd consider it. I think, maybe they don't trust adults very much, bc they asked if you were our age.”

“Theoretically?”

“Exactly.”

* * *

Though the specific details as to when the founding member first became acquainted, it was only after multiple incidents of near-worldwide devastation that they realized the necessity of an organized front.

The details of the forming of the Justice League should be fascinating, if only for the revelation that world-ending disasters are, apparently, relatively common in this universe. In a way, it’s a comforting thought. Memories of Dan sit as heavily as ever in Danny’s mind, especially now that he’s effectively lost his family, just like in Dan’s timeline. Of course, here there’s presumably no risk of him getting fused with Vlad, so probably that specific threat isn’t likely, but - well, if it comes to the worst and Danny does go mad, there’s at least a reasonably good chance that the heroes here will be able to stop him.

On the other hand, this also means that if the heroes turn out to actually be evil or whatever, he has less chance of getting away. Of course, Superboy hadn’t really seemed evil, but Danny really has no clue if he would even be able to tell. Sure he’d known Vlad was a nightmare from a mile away, but Vlad wasn’t exactly subtle about his obsession with Danny. Evil steeped in calculation would surely be harder to spot, wouldn’t it?

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” someone says from behind Danny. “But are you going to be using that computer for much longer?” Danny blinks, staring back at the teen who’s looking at him nervously. Danny glances over at the clock, but it’s now reading 2:30, which means that he’s been here for like three hours already,and he really hasn’t read much of anything in all that time.

“You can have it,” Danny says, pulling back to shove his notebook into his backpack.

“You sure, man? I don’t wanna chase you off, but I really could use it. Physics project, you know?” 

“Yeah, I get it. Wasn’t really making much progress anyway. Might as well take a break.” Danny says. He never got to take physics in school, but he remembers struggling with lit class enough to understand the sentiment. And he really isn’t making any progress, if he’s been staring at the same Justice League page for multiple hours.

“You working on a history project or something?”

“Yeah.” It’s close enough to the truth.

“What teacher d’you have? It’s pretty cool that they’re letting you do it on the Justice League.”

“Oh, uh,” Danny quails for a moment, focusing on closing the tab so he doesn’t tell the kid he’s not going to school. After all it’s probably reasonable to assume the laws about delinquency are the same here. “It’s more about the meta protection acts than like, the Justice League itself. And I’m not really local, so...”

“Ah, that explains why I don’t recognize you,” the other teen grins.

“Yeah,” Danny says, stepping back so the other teen can take over the computer. “Well, good luck with your physics project.”

“Thanks, man, and good luck with your meta-acts essay.” The other teen turns his attention to the computer as Danny steps away, heading for the library exit. Clearly research isn’t going well today, and Jazz would definitely yell at him for trying to force his brain to focus when it clearly doesn’t want to. He pauses outside for a moment, trying to remember what Jazz said to when your focus was shot. Obviously part one was to take a break, but he’s certain that she’d had more to say than that.

He thinks he remembers her going on a rant about monotony, and boredom, but he doesn’t really feel bored. Actually more than anything he feels wired and anxious. And anxious means he should...

“Turn slow tigers into fast tigers,” Danny mutters, gaining a deeply confused look from the couple other patrons standing outside the library. He ignores them, though, and starts heading for the nearby park, so he can do some stretches. Fast tigers means he has to exercise, which he would usually complain about but- well, his routine has definitely been a lot less active since he got here. Other than the train crash the other week, Danny’s been spending most of his time sitting and reading, and while it’s been insanely nice to have nobody hunting him, honestly the idea of exercise sounds almost horrifyingly nice.

He does his best to run through the kind of stretches he remembers doing in PE, warming himself up as best he can before starting to jog the little looping path. The jeans make it a little more annoying than he remembers in PE, but luckily they’re kind of loose, so they’re not too terrible to run in, and Danny has no intention of going very fast. There’s too many people around even if he wanted to, and he does his best to be polite and not in the way as he jogs. it doesn’t take long for his breathing to go heavy with exertion, and as he finishes his second circuit, Dannyt relaxes into it, and just lets himself run.

Thirty minutes later, Danny is feeling markedly more tired, and he lets himself slow to a walk. His heart is thudding rhythmically in his chest, the occasional stutter only more prominent in the heightened pounding, and his legs feel a little wobbly, but he keeps walking, The sweat he’d worked up feels gross against his clothes, so probably he could’ve gone about it better, but Danny figures a whole thirty minutes without worrying about his existential situation is more than worth feeling gross for a bit. His usual tactic of sneaking into the local gym while it’s closed isn’t gonna cut it during the day, so he’ll have to wait to shower, but in the meantime, he can walk off the remaining adrenaline, and decide what to do for dinner.

* * *

“Hey, did you really mean what you said about me having a civilian identity?” Robin looks up as Superboy sits in the air beside his work desk.

“I have four different identities, ready for you to choose from,” Robin says.

“Wait do you just keep possible identities around in case anybody needs them? Is that, like, a Bat thing?” Superboy leans over to examine the tool Robin had been working on. Like everything else he uses, it’s emblazoned with a bat insignia, not that the marking does anything to help identify what the little machine even does. It’s ridiculously small, definitely not any kind of weapon, unless Robin’s been tinkering with the idea of murderous nanobots, which honestly wouldn’t be that shocking. Of any hero Superboy’s ever met, Robin seems uniquely predisposed towards mad scientist-type stuff.

“I keep exactly two emergency identities on hold, but those are separate. I was talking specifically about identities for you.” Superboy freezes, turning his eyes back to Robin, who looks at him like this is a perfectly normal thing to say. Superboy is at least ninety percent sure it isn’t, but what the hell.

“What the hell,” Superboy echoes his own thoughts. “Why would I ever need four identities?”

“You don’t need four, you need options. There’s no point in giving you an identity you hate.”

“Okay, but people don’t get to choose their names? So why would I care.”

“Most people don’t choose their names because most people receive them when they’re babies, but everyone has the ability to change it later if they decide they don’t like it. You have the unique advantage of being cognitively developed enough to have a say from the beginning, and you should have the opportunity to use it.”

“Huh...” That’s actually kind of sweet. “Do you like your name? I mean, like, that’s not why you don’t want to tell us, right?”

“My name is adequate,” Robin answers slowly. “It’s mine and I am... accustomed to it. The reason I haven’t told you my name is because it... implicates the other bats, and Batman considers that to be a significant security risk.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess that’s fair. Could I see the names you were thinking of?”

“Certainly,” Robin says, pushing back from the desk. “Let me get my tablet.”

* * *

“Uh, Superboy?” Danny shouts, trying to ignore how fucking ridiculous this feels. “Are you, like, free to talk? I think I want to meet your friend.” He’s hovering in the sky about a mile out from his town, in as close to the middle of nowhere as he could manage. He’d done a bit of looking into Robin this morning, before making his decision, and what a wild discovery that Robin was a name that had been held by multiple individuals. It makes him think of Dani, and he almost hopes that wherever she ends up, she might use the name Phantom too. After all, if anyone else rights to it, it would be his genetic clone.

Danny has no clue if time is flowing the same here as back home, but with any luck his friends have managed to orchestrate Dani’s escape too. It was always going to be a little more dodgy than Danny himself- his death being inherently tied to the portal had meant it was a bit more responsive to him than it otherwise would be, and that detail had been pretty quintessential to the rewiring that had needed to be done in order to send him to an entirely different universe, but they’d been hoping that her nature as a post-portal clone would mean that she had a close enough tie to the portal to send her through as well. Not that Danny would likely ever get to know for sure.

The soft rush of air alerted Danny to someone’s arrival, and he just managed to keep himself from falling into a defensive posture as he turned to look at the newly arrived Superboy, and the other teen being carried in his arms. Danny recognized the other boys outfit as that of the current Robin, who was now staring at Danny through a pair of disconcerting white-lenses set into a domino mask.

“We were free so I figured we’d just come meet you?” Superboy says with a nervous grin.

“Yeah, that’s, um, kind of obvious. Should we land?” Danny’s pretty sure that none of the Bats have flight, and like, as much as flying is cool as hell, Robin doesn’t look particularly impressed by it.

“That would be preferable, please,” Robin says, confirming Danny’s thoughts. He nods, and heads for the ground. Superboy follows just as quickly, and a moment later they’re all gathered on a gravel road in farmland.

“So, uh,” Superboy begins, once he’s deposited Robin on his own two feet.

“You told him about me before,” Danny says. Superboy may have had plenty of time to fly over here, but there hadn’t been enough of a delay to have explained the situation to Robin just now.

“It was an entirely theoretical conversation,” Robin offers dryly, before Superboy can respond.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that he was asking if I could theoretically help a meta acquire an identity if they were uncomfortable with the Justice League. Nothing of it was mentioned to anyone else and he told me no details about who any theoretical metas might be.” Danny blinks, taking a moment to process Robin’s explanation. In a way it makes sense, and he can see why Superboy would want to make sure that what he was offering was even possible.  Besides, it’s pretty obvious already that they both really trust each other.

“Okay, sure. I guess I get it.”

“I would like to know why you’re concerned about the Justice League, though, if you’re willing to share. If there’s anything illicit happening-”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that,” Danny cuts in as soon as he realizes where Robin’s going. He’s suddenly glad he’d already decided to explain his situation in more detail. “It’s like, I’m not from here so my shit is entirely unrelated? It’s just, they’re -you’re?- associated with the government, you know?”

“And your government is a threat to you.”

“Honestly, everything was. But they can’t get to me here. It’s why my friends- that’s why I’m here.”

“Okay, but are you sure you’re safe? Because like, space travel is a thing, and if you need protection...” Superboy trails off, looking concerned.

“I mean, it should be fine? Even if the GIW did manage to figure out inter-dimensional travel, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be able to figure out where specifically I went, so yeah.” Danny really doesn’t want to think about a GIW that’s gone inter-dimensional.

“Well if they did manage to make it here, they would be breaching the meta protection acts if they tried anything, so I hope if that does happen you inform myself or Superboy.”

“Yeah,” Danny laughs. “It’s honestly been kind of crazy trying to wrap my head around the idea I have protections here?”

“That’s understandable. Plenty of meta-individuals have complicated feelings about them, even if they grew up here.”

“Oh?”

“Well, just because it’s illegal to exploit or discriminate against someone doesn’t necessarily mean it doesn’t happen. And metas who have been treated poorly often have trouble trusting in the protection acts.”

“Or sometimes you just didn’t get that info programmed into you and then you have to adjust to your understanding of history being manufactured,” Superboy mutters under his breath. Robin doesn’t react at all and Danny’s pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear it either. The implications are a bit concerning, but Danny’s not about to press him on it.

“Yeah, I mean that’s kind of where I am, I guess. I think I’d like it if you’d be willing to make me a legal identity? I’m basically homeless at the moment, so I’d like to be able to get a job or something. But I’d really rather not end up on the Justice League’s radar yet. You guys seem nice, but databases are- a lot.”

“Easy enough. I can actually do it all with my personal resources, so the info never goes anywhere near the Justice League’s databases. We just need to determine what name history you want to have.”

“I mean, I’d like to keep my name, if possible?”

“Sure, What’s your name?” Robin tilts his head.

“Danny Fenton.”

[daisymbin]

Hii are u still taking requests. If yes can you pls do a suggestive joshua prompt with 5. And 7. Thankyou ❤️

hi lovely, yes I still am!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list

suggestive prompt #5: "is that your way of asking me to stay the night?" +

suggestive prompt #7: "come closer, I won't bite—unless you want me to."

joshua leaned against the counter, watching as you moved around the kitchen with quiet ease. the way you hummed softly to yourself, the way your fingers tapped absentmindedly on the countertop—he could watch you forever and never get bored.

“you don’t have to wait up, you know,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at him.

he smiled, shaking his head. “i don’t mind. it’s not like i have anywhere else to be.”

you rolled your eyes, but he caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

“you could be home,” you pointed out, sliding a mug of tea toward him. “sleeping in your own bed, instead of hovering here like a ghost.”

he took the mug, his fingers brushing yours for half a second. “maybe i like being a ghost,” he teased, his voice soft.

you laughed, the sound warm and familiar, and joshua felt something in his chest tighten.

“seriously, though,” you said, leaning against the counter across from him. “it’s late. you don’t have to stay if you dont want to.”

“are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“not exactly,” you said, your voice quieter now.

there it was—that hesitation, that little pause that told him there was something more you weren’t saying.

“then what?” he pressed, setting the mug down.

you looked away, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “it’s just… you don’t have to stay just because you feel like you have to, you know?”

“who said i feel like i have to?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly.

you looked at him then, your eyes meeting his, and joshua felt his resolve waver.

“is that your way of asking me to stay the night?” he asked, his lips curling into a teasing smile.

your cheeks flushed, and you looked away quickly. “i didn’t say that.”

“but you didn’t not say it,” he pointed out, stepping closer to you.

you shot him a glare, but it lacked any real heat. “you’re impossible.”

“so i’ve been told,” he said lightly, his grin widening.

you sighed, shaking your head, but joshua didn’t miss the way your lips twitched like you were fighting back a smile.

“you’re awfully quiet,” he said, his voice softer now. “what’s on your mind?”

you hesitated, your fingers stilling against your sleeve. “i don’t know,” you said finally. “this. you.”

his chest tightened, and he took another step closer, closing the gap between you.

“me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, your gaze dropping to the floor. “you make it really hard to think straight sometimes, you know that?”

joshua chuckled, the sound low and warm. “is that a compliment?”

“don’t push your luck,” you muttered, but he could see the way your lips curved into a small smile.

he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, and you froze, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

“come closer,” he said softly, his voice steady but laced with something heavier. “i won’t bite—unless you want me to.” he said as he pulled you impossibly closer to him.

he didn’t kiss you—not yet. but the way you looked at him, the way your breath hitched when he leaned in closer—it was enough to make him stay a little longer, to test the waters and let the tension hang in the air between you.

your breath hitched, and joshua felt a surge of satisfaction as your cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink.

“you’re so full of yourself,” you said, but there was no bite to your words.

“maybe,” he admitted, his smile turning slightly crooked. “but you don’t seem to mind.”

you didn’t respond, and joshua took that as an invitation to close the distance between you entirely.

joshua’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a gentleness that made your chest ache. you barely had time to breathe before he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was soft yet electrifying.

your fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as his other hand slid to your waist, anchoring you to him. the warmth of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and he tilted his head, deepening the kiss with a quiet hum that sent your thoughts scattering.

he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “you okay?”

you nodded, your voice catching in your throat. “more than okay.”

his lips curved into a smile before he kissed you again, this time slower, sweeter, as if you had all the time in the world.

[glitchy-npc]

59 pretty please? ^^

[Post Re-gene and villain reveal. 778 words]

Ortega fidgets with the small, gold ring in his ear, rubbing the smooth metal between his finger and thumb and it warms quickly under his touch. It's become an increasingly common habit lately, a self-soothing gesture, it helps him think. He only wishes he could focus on what he really needed to get done instead of drifting towards memories of the man who gave him the earring in the first place. 

But his brain never did care about what he wanted and the memories come back anyway.

He remembers sitting in his kitchen and the familiar burn of tequila, a little liquid courage, while watching Tegan set a small box down on the table. 

“Last chance to back out, old man.” Tegan’s lopsided smile was a challenge. Why was that the detail Ortega noticed rather than whether those smiles ever reached his eyes or not?

“Do you really think I would?” He leaned back in his chair, the camouflage of cocky confidence as easy to put on as a pair of well worn shoes. 

“No.” Tegan snorted. “But you could have gone to a professional, they probably would have done it for free, for celebrity bragging rights.” 

“Hey, I’m not being a cheapskate here, besides…” His voice softened when he reached out to grab Tegan’s hand, giving it a quick kiss before the other man could protest. “I want you to do it, I trust you.” Only in hindsight could he see Tegan’s imperceptible wince.

“Fine, just don’t complain if you don’t like it and end up with a scar.” Did he really never used to notice Tegan’s eyes darting to the scar on his lip so often? His parting gift from Retribution. It’s still hard to comprehend they are one and the same. 

Ortega remembers Tegan opening the box and pulling on a pair of black nitrile gloves, the way his hands flexed until they sat just right and how meticulous he was about sanitizing the gloves and needle, along with the sharp smell of disinfectant. He had been that way in the old days too, whenever he had patched him up after a fight, methodical and clean, he thought he had just been overcautious.

But now he knows why. 

Could never risk an infection or a trip to the hospital, not with the tattoos being as good as a death sentence. If only he had known. If only he had been trusted to know.

He remembers Tegan gently pushing his hair behind his ear and repressing a shiver as he applied antiseptic to where the needle would go. How he stood, straddling one of his thighs to be close enough. So close. He wanted to place his hands on his hips, to slide his hands up under Tegan’s shirt and pull him closer. Into a kiss, into the countless fantasies he’d had of them making love in his kitchen. Maybe it was silly but that's what fantasies are. And what they are likely to remain. 

“Ok, keep still.” Tegan commanded, needle poised against his ear. “On the count of three. One…two…” 

He remembers the sharp sting as the needle pierced through his flesh. 

“¡Carajo! You didn’t even get to three.” It took all his willpower not to touch the instrument in his ear. An intrusion. One he wanted.

“You might have flinched otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t have!” The embarrassed surprise stung worse than the needle in truth.

“Don’t be a baby. You still want the gold hoop?” At least that was better than calling him old. 

“Yep, gold’s a classic.” Easy to throw the confidence back up while Tegan disinfected the jewelry. He was proud he didn’t wince as he threaded it through the new opening. Another scar.

“Not worried what other people will think it might mean?” Even prouder he didn’t wince at that. Did that really used to scare him that badly? That other people might suspect he wasn’t straight? 

“Not at all.” He can tell himself now it wasn’t a lie. “Besides, if anyone makes a big deal of it, I can say my boyfriend did it for me. Watch them say something then.” 

“Idiot.” Tegan rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be pulled into the kiss all the same. Something warm and wanted that didn’t chase away the pain but added to it in a way that made everything feel more. 

More present. More real.

Ortega shakes his head. Stops tugging at the earring and rubs his eyes. Tired. No light shines through the blinds, working late again, the dimly lit office a pale comparison to the bright warmth of the kitchen in his memories. 

But that's just how everything feels lately.

[witchyvibes91]

Slytherin Boys Break-up Blurb: Part 1

Little blurb about the Slytherin Boys breaking-up with you. This is part 1. Part 2 of groveling and begging for forgiveness coming soon.

Mattheo: Things have been different recently. He was more distant, not wanting to hang around you as much. You walked down to the Black Lake where he was smoking a cigarette. 

“Matty? There you are. I feel like I haven’t seen you all week!” You said with a soft giggle but he didn’t respond. At least not in the way you were used to. Instead, he turns to you with his dark eyes that were stained with a red hue. 

“Y/n, we need to talk.” His voice was stern, cold. It was unsettling. You feel your heart breaking already. 

“I can’t be with you anymore.” He says firmly. The tears are already on your waterline. You’re speechless. You wanted to yell, scream. You wanted to ask him why but you didn’t. You couldn’t. As you walk away, Matt watches you leave. He watches the one thing he loved most in this world leave him, knowing that he can never have it. All because of his father.

Theo: Life with Theo was fun. Keyword, was. Recently he had been so moody. The two of you were constantly bickering, something you weren’t used to. You were pacing around the common room having yet another argument. 

“What do you want me to do, Theo? You complain so much. What do you want me to do?” You shouted through frustration. He rolled his eyes as he waved his hand towards the common room entrance.

“Leave!” He shouted back at you. The words caught you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting in the least. 

“What? You don’t mean that.” You muttered, your voice shaking as you spoke. Theo let out a loud sigh as he ran both hands through his hair. 

“I mean it! Just get out already!” He groaned out but before he could say another word you were gone. When Theo sat back straight, he half expected you to still be there. When he realized you were gone, he was instantly regretting the pain he just caused.

Lorenzo: Your back slid down the cold stone wall of the castle. Tears were running down your face. There wasn’t much else you could do. The image was seared into your mind. Enzo with another woman. Everyone warned you about this but he was different with you. He was attentive. He was sweet. Was. 

“Come on, Y/n. Don’t act like that.” He said through a soft tone. It was a tone that, combined with any other words, would come across as sweet. But with these, it was manipulative. 

“You were with another woman, Enzo!” You shouted at him. He stood right in front of you as he tucked his hands into his pockets. His eyes stared down at the mess he had created. A smirk teased on his lips as he looked at you. 

“You knew this day would come soon enough, Y/n. You had to.” He snarled at you. Your eyes stared up at the man who was now a stranger to you. He gave you one last look before walking away, his shoes carefully clicking against the stone floors. Your heart was broken. But hey, at least you were the top in his book. For now.

Draco: Draco Malfoy was by all means not the easiest person to date. But boy did he know how to shower you with affection. He wined and dined you. He bought endless gifts and flowers. He always had stocks of your favorite candy. But the one thing he wouldn’t do is open up. Even after months of dating. The conversations between the two of you always felt stale and shallow. 

“Come on, Dray. Just one thing! One little talk. That’s all.” You said one October afternoon as your head lay in his lap. His hand ran through your hair, the silver rings stroking your sun kissed strands. 

“Why are you always pushing me? Why do we need to talk at all?” He mumbled. You sat up as you looked at him. 

“Why do we need to talk at all? To communicate? To have healthy conversations and build trust?” You said through a shocked tone. Draco rolled his eyes. He was acting childish and it was pushing you with every second. 

“If you want all of that then you’re with the wrong person.” He said as his icy gray eyes met yours. You felt your heart sinking. He was being pretentious about this. 

“So you’re saying we shouldn’t be together?” You asked, hoping he’d defend you. Defend your relationship. 

“Yeah. Maybe I am.” They were words you never thought you’d hear. You jumped up and immediately stormed off. Draco watched you walk away before slamming his head against the tree he was leaning on. He cursed his upbringing for costing him yet another joy in life.

Blaise: Blaise was the life of the party no matter where you went. Everyone knew him. Students. Friends of friends. Even the shop workers knew his name. You felt as if you couldn’t ever truly get alone time with you. The two of you were in his room getting ready for yet another party. 

“I just don’t understand why we can’t do some one on one time?” You asked as you combed through your hair. Blaise was buttoning his shirt while staring in the mirror. 

“What’s gotten into you? You used to be so fun.” He said through a groan. You stopped the comb halfway through and immediately turned to him. 

“Used to be? Are you implying that I’m no longer fun?” You asked, pulling the comb through and tossing it onto the bed. Blaise looked at you through the mirror, his eyes meeting yours from over his shoulder. 

“I mean, yeah, Ma. You used to love going out. You’re not the same as when we first started dating.” His words stung. They were hurtful. Did he mean this? 

“So what, you want someone more fun than me?” You asked thinking he would just roll his eyes at your dumb question. Instead he turned around, his hands falling to his side as his half buttoned shirt stayed slightly open. 

“I guess I am.” He said sternly. The pain was too much. You stormed out of the room, leaving Blaise alone. He went to the party that night but no matter how much he drank, he couldn’t get you off his mind. He knew he messed up. And he would forever regret that night.

Regulus: You were sitting in your room, holding the letter in your hands. The tears were rolling from your cheek onto the parchment. You had read it over and over again, but the words didn’t change, no matter how much you wanted them to. 

“I can’t defeat the dark lord while with you. I can’t have him use you against me. I’m sorry, Y/n. This is the only way.” That line ran over your eyes over and over again. Regulus had left and there was a good chance he would never return again. 

Meanwhile, miles away, Regulus was making his way towards his battle. The pain he felt while writing that letter was practically unbearable, but it was needed. He knew he needed to break up with you to protect you. 

And that’s exactly what it did. It protected you. But it didn’t stop him from thinking about you. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if he made the right decision that night. You would forever be in his mind, a constant reminder of the life he could have had. The person who he wanted to spend forever with and yet never would, no matter how much he wanted to do just that.

[descenderintofantasy]

I wasn't going to reply to this, as I'm not going to get in an argument. But it truly makes ME sick that you can be so hateful towards a teenage girl! A teenage girl who grew up abused and was morally taught to do all the wrong things for her mother's attention and affection. She didn't know any better. Furthermore, Mal exhausted every other option before turning to the love spell--she tried straight up getting the wand herself/with Jay and the others. She tried befriending Jane for access to it. She tried asking Ben if she and her friends could be up front at the coronation. The love spell was the last option. Mal was running out of time when she knew she had to get that wand becuse her and her gangs lives depended on it! What, did you think Maleficent would just take them failing in her plan lightly? As well, Mal willingly and knowingly of the possible repercussions gave Ben the antidote, giving him back his choice. He could have left Mal and gotten back with Audrey at any time after his coronation. Mal gave him that option, knowing that she'd most likely die/be in for a life where she wished she was dead for it, if Ben sent her back to the Isle and she didn't have the wand.

Point One: While yes, you are correct that Audrey's feelings for Ben are never really explored. Flat out KISSING another guy not even a minute after Ben had broken up with her DOES NOT really scream genuine/deep feelings for him. Audrey did not even attempt to speak to Ben about what was going on before kissing Chad. Or even at any time afterwards. And please do not give me the "but it was up to Ben to talk to her!" line. Audrey is not an infant, she had a working mouth and legs to start the conversation. Do you not think that any girl who had been dating a guy for at least a year would want to talk to her boyfriend if he exhibits odd behaviour? Yet Audrey does not, she moves on, 30 seconds afterwards, showing she saw no true value in her and Ben's relationship. Mal is the one shown to have greater care for Ben, to the points of trying to save his life when she thinks he's drowned even when doing so would put HER life in jeopardy, and "taking herself out of the picture" and going back to the Isle becuse she thought it would be best for him. That is DEEPER, MORE GENUINE FEELINGS for Ben than Audrey is ever shown to have.

Point Two: I never said I blamed Ben for the changes that happened to Mal. I merely wanted to point out that Mal put a lot of effort into trying to make things easier for Ben. Becuse she knew that he would more than likely get flack for her status as a VK. And on the night that she was supposed to get her 'pay off' (becoming Ben's Lady) it's seemingly taken away from her. Making all that effort be in vain. As to everyone being upset with Ben. Do remember that Ben planned the ENTIRE EVENT for Mal. So of course people are going to be upset and confused that Ben suddenly turns up with a different girl. A girl that Auradon doesn't even know instead of Mal When, as said, the cotillion itself was planned around her. Judging by the reactions in D3 to her becoming future queen, people have grown to like Mal. At least more than they did Audrey, so yes, people are going to be upset that Ben 'blows Mal off' for seemingly no reason. No one but Mal. Ben and the other VK's there knew what had happened on the Isle. Or that Mal and Ben 'weren't together' any more. So as far as the kingdom knows this event's focus was Mal and then Ben seems to suddenly throw that out the window, and demands that they pay attention to Uma with no explanation. Tell me that you wouldn't be upset in that type of situation. Furthermore, once Ben made his wishes clear to Mal very coldly, and harshly I might add, thanks to Uma. What does Mal do? Does she throw a fit? Or try and make Ben take notice of her by draping herself over another guy? Or threaten the kingdom to demand Ben come back to her? No! She starts to LEAVE. Quietly and without fuss becuse she thinks that's what Ben wants, and she loves him enough to give him that. Everything Mal has done before and at cotillion was. FOR. BEN, even if it leaves her in tears. You keep saying that Ben is a 'victim of Mal.' But the one person who has done everything for Ben since they got into a true relationship, is MAL HERSELF!

Point Three: Mal did not make Uma think she was drowning. She WAS drowning! It is proven that she cannot swim in D1. She could have died, and she thought Uma left her to that. Do you really think Mal could let that go, living on the Isle? A place where they keep track of every slight made against them? With the expectations that were on her from Maleficent? Mal could not afford to be "soft." Also, Uma gave as good as she got in the rivalry between them. It was Uma who brought uninvolved parties into the rivalry. You never saw Mal trying to kidnap/mess with/take Harry away from Uma. Uma may have been the original victim of the shrimp, yes, but she quickly lost 'victim' status with her actions afterwards. What Uma did was not a 'date with Mal's ex'. She went after Ben and turned up to cotillion deliberately and with malice just to hurt Mal.

I don't really know what you mean by 'extrapolation' in this context. But frankly, I find your reblog of my post to be incredibly hateful. As well as clearly biased towards both Audrey and Uma.

In defence of Mal getting her 'karma' by the love spell in D2, and the people smirking, 'now she knows how it feels!'

It. Is. Different! 1 Unlike Audrey, Mal has genuine feelings for Ben at that point. (and think about the context of that. This is a girl who has never truly romantically loved someone in her life. And now that she has the person she let have her heart is getting taken away) 2. Mal has just come off months of putting herself through hell/Tartarus trying to be what she thought Ben needed. So that she wouldn't cause him issues with being a VK and on the night it was all supposed to pay off, Ben turns up with another girl. 3 Even if it's unknown to Ben and Uma Mal knows that that's not just any girl taking Ben. It's her cousin, her family that's just a deeper level of low/hurt!

So no, you cannot compare Mal and Audrey's feelings in that moment because the context of the two situations was not the same.

[actual-corpse]

Me, slowly getting angry *it's hot, I'm thirsty, I'm covered in sweat, and something bonked me on the head*: omfg I'm gonna fucking *remembers the post about not saying kms and putting on a talent show* I'm gonna..... do a backfilp!!

[kuromi-hoemie]

hhhh talking about my writing was fun but 30 tags is not enough.. yes i have 3 major influences but i have minor ones too.. it is a lovechild of my favorite things.. writing is so fun and i have no self control or a concept of pacing myself i will sit there for 16 hours and get hit with every status effect but by god does it all just flow out of me. I've always been a music person yes but i also used to write a lot into early adulthood until The Incident™

but i am ready 2 jump back into it. i think comics are a great middle ground between the two mediums so i don't get As into writing bc i kind of started going crazy last time 🫡 i can take a more structured approach to it that forces me to pace myself and think about it differently. i love art.... i love making things i love knowing how to do things i love knowing how to play things i love having so many creative outlets, even if i don't do a lot of them regularly lol. it is enriching 😳 and nice to know that it's always there to come back to when u want.

[astralazuli]

I need new undergarments. Which is like. My personal hell as a fat enby with sensory issues & slightly hindered mobility. Spent some time today digging through page after page of google search trying to find something &...

Look, I'm just saying. Whoever keeps deciding to list their brands as "size inclusive" & "plus size" when their largest size is a women's 14?

I think fat people should be allowed to hunt them for sport.

[kummatty]

I miss movies I rly do

[buzzheadchick]

Okay so I have more headcanons on the formation of the Bullies clique. Another one that is a little less concrete is that somebody (can’t decide who I think it works better for) joined the group kind of by coincidence. In my mind, in the 2004 school year, Davis and Duncan were freshmen and roommates, but Duncan dropped out halfway through the year because of the shit he put up with. Davis, now having a room to himself, ended up being the de-facto room to hang out in the dorms for Russell and the other guys already in the group. However, in the 2005 year, Davis got a new roommate assigned from one of the incoming freshman, who ended up joining the group because they were hanging out in his room all the time anyways and it turns out they got along pretty well. The only issue is I can’t decide if I think it works better for Tom or Trent. I see them both as Sophomores as of the 2006 school year I think the game is set in, but I can both picture different ways it would work for either of them being Davis’s roommate.

[cyarskj1899]

This is such typical Toronto man behaviour.* I’m glad it’s being exposed. It’s easier to manipulate us if we aren’t clear minded. I can’t wait for all of it to be exposed!

* not all Toronto men, just that gremlin

[screampied]

‘ V!RGIN KILLA! 𝜗𝜚

𓉸ྀི sum. not only does he think he knows what he’s doing, he’s also a virgin. but there’s a first time for everything . . . right? choso, nanami, gojo, geto, ino, toji.

warnings. fem! reader, vīrgin men, unprotected, vīrginity loss, whiny needy men, some college themes, fratboy! toji, pússydrunk men, cōckwarming, cérvix kissin', cunnīlingus, dry humping, finishing quick, spıt, squīrting, bréeding, petnames, sukuna's part didn't save but i'll make it up </3

★ NANAMI KENTO aka the quick learner virgin?!

nanami drools the minute his tip disappears inside of your cunt. he can’t help it - at all.

the balmy warmth you provide him while you’re straddling his waist, basically cockwarming him sends him shivers. “god, ‘s good,” he groans, tugging at the bottom edge of his spot-patterned tie. nanami could feel the raised pointed tips of his ears burning as his eyes slowly flicker down toward your sopping wet pussy. oh, how it’s just profusely leaking with so much strings of your pretty slick. messily, it glosses a shine between your legs, gleaming with thick molasses—almost similar to a stream, and yet this stream was instead flowing down between your legs. “mmh.. ride me, s- show me how to feel good, my love.”

“hey. eyes on me, ‘ken,” you whisper, your fragile breaths growing shallow the moment he’s tightly snug balls deep in. with a ringing loud ‘pop!’ you feel him greedily ease his way past the slight loose ring of your entrance and you moan. he’s in so deep, and you can’t help but shimmy your hips against his lap. nanami told you how he had little to no experience—and yet, he wanted to try this out with you. having you ride him until he couldn’t think straight. whenever you ran your hands down his carved tone body, a roaring fire would ignite within him. your touch alone sent him chills and he only craved it more. tender fawn-colored eyes that almost resemble honey meet your gaze, and he leans into your touch the moment you cup your hands on his cheeks. slowly, you’re lustfully swaying against his lap back and forth and he groans. “that’s it, you’re doin’ good, kento. hold my hips.”

“like . . this?” he hoarsely asks, and hefty hands suddenly cling onto your waist. you moan, nodding as he gently holds them in place, trying to guide your movements. his cock stretched you out in each ‘n every way, curiously exploring through the gummy walls of every slick orifice. nanami’s starting to sweat already—and you smile, watching as he sneaks a fat thumb down between your pried open legs. “mngh. . you’re soakin’ all on me. is that normal?” he breathes, and you can see a bit of drool starting to seep down the cracked corners of his lips.

soaking, he could hear the sloppy sounds of your cunt slamming back against his tense thighs and it makes him throb. in zealous sync, you end up throbbing too, and he feels said throb right against the the narrow tip of his cock. “ah, y- yeah, ‘s normal, kento,” you inhale sharply, wrapping your arms around him. callused fingertips his drag a straight line down your skin as he starts to rock you faster into his needy pelvis.

the stretch makes you whimper - his dick’s so fat, and your pussy swallows all numerous inches every time. over ‘n over, your ass violently hits back against his lap as you continue to ride him, amorously tossing your swerving hips in a circle. you could see the blond’s eyes starting to grow hooded, and he’s never looked so in love. your cunt had him hungry for more. “like that, baby?”

“mhm, i like a-anything you do to me, sweetheart,” nanami hoarsely coos, pulling up the back of your hand for a loving kiss. you’re riding him well—watching as he slowly cocks his head back, exposing the oval-shaped adam’s apple in his throat. it’s a simple yet sexy detail that makes you pulsate nevertheless, and nanami groans. “f- fuck, i need you. i need more, ‘m not gonna last, honey if you hah.. keep ridin’ me like that.”

and within a few hasty strokes, nanami starts to get the hang of your rhythm. by the hang, he’s starting to fuck you against his cock now. vast, open hands of his cling onto your waist tight before he’s occasionally spanking your ass. “ngh, good girl. that’s my girl, ugh,” and as you’re whining, nanami pulls you into his neck. the pearly silver band of his flashy watch tickles down your back as he grabs at a nice chunk of your ass, spanking it. “r- ride it like it’s yours, sweetheart. ride it like i’m yours.”

he’s whispering filthy nothing in your ears—trying to drown out your cute sobbing whimpers and your even louder pussy. nanami’s cock was deranged - it was reaching through every sensitive spot of yours, wasting no time to introduce itself near the gummy ridges.

“fuck, fuck!” you’d squeal out, gasping once the swollen head of his cock tickles its way near your hidden g-spot. oh, that spot. you couldn’t help but get sheepish, a cock drunk smile twisting against your lips. he’s so snug, rearranging your insides while continuing to spank your ass. it’s almost as if he knew what he was doing, and nanami knew how to tame your aching cunt with just a few sloppy strokes. “ken, ‘m close. fuckin’ close.”

“i know, i know. give it t’ me,” he whispers, his voice pitching deeper ‘n deeper after each sloppy thrust. nanami’s pumping you full, swallowing thickly to ease the inside of his mouth that’s parched, akin to the sahara. nanami groans, gingerly making you slam your hips against him harder. “fuck, work those hips sweetheart. show me how messy my pretty girl can be, h- huh?”

you’re whimpering constantly, sounding like nothing more than a broken record as you’re gradually being led to your release. it’s a candied sweet taste in your mouth that never goes away, and once you finally came—you were hysterical.

nanami huffs heavily, holding you tight as your hips come to a sudden devastating stop. he’s still buried thick inches deep before he groans, caressing a palm against your tender rear. “hah, that’s m- my girl,” he coos, feeling you drench a portion of his cock with your slimy slick. it’s warm, and you’re still whining incoherent blurbs as you bury your face into his neck. “whew, we’ll have ‘ta try that again,” and once he plants a wet kiss near your temple, he strokes your chin with a thumb. “but another position though. if that’s alright.”

“w- what position?” you tiredly pant, bringing a hand toward your sticky-coated back.

nanami gives your ass its final playful spank before whispering lowly against your lips. “ever heard of doggy, my love?”

#GETO SUGURU aka the nasty virgin?!

geto’s a filthy nasty virgin, unashamed. insisting how he’s never experienced something like this before, smugly stating how he ‘did his research.’

“lie back, sweetheart,” geto huffed, flipping you right back over on your back. he’d just got done with fucking you round after round for the first time, and it seemed like the word ‘stamina’ didn’t exist in his vocabulary. one second inside and he already wanted more—he was greedy, and it was never enough. as you’re struggling to catch your breath that drags out of your full puffed lungs, you stare up at geto. right away, his dark eyes dart between your legs and the dripping dewy mess that streams between your puffed cunt. “what a pretty sight, look at thaaaat,” and geto inches his face between your thighs, staring at frosty-white wads of cum that pour straight out of your full swollen folds.

so much. . you were practically overflowing with ribbons of sticky hot cum ‘n many more strings of it before he sticks out his tongue. “hah, least i can do is clean my girl, hm?” and you whimper, feeling him spread your legs apart with two hands. “kinda saw this in a video once.”

“s- sugu!” you gasp, your words leisurely turning into moans the second he dives straight into your pussy - nose first.

right as the tip of his tongue creates a frenzied slurping trail that soaks straight your cunt, he gives you the most feral look. his pretty black lashes briefly flap shut as he’s devouring you wholly, jerking his head from side to side. choked, gargled moans continue to steal out from your strained vocal cords as a hand of yours fishes through his matted tresses. “fuck, f- fuck like that, clean it up, baby.”

“mhm,” he smears his entire chin against your cunt, feeling it get doused with your sweet slick almost right away. he’s nasty, lapping up his bittersweet cum that spills out from between your folds like it’s nothing. geto barely even bats an eye, and that’s when he groans the second you feel a bit of weight dip against the mattress. he’s now humping against the edge of the bed, rocking his slim hips over ‘n over. “goddamn, ‘m so horny still, sweetheart. ‘y have no idea,” he whimpers shakily, and he grumbles under his breath, shaking his head as a few thin strands of hair gets in the way of his view. “h- hey, be a doll ‘n tie my hair back for me, yeah?”

as you’re chasing your quick-steady breaths, you grab his ponytail holder from his wrist, neatly putting his raven locks into a messy bun. “good girl, take such good care of m—mmph.”

geto lowly chuckles against your pussy once you give him a soft push that makes his nose brush up against your clit. your folds were so cute ‘n runny, filthily oozing with velvety remnants of his warm, pasty cum. “mhh, suguru,” you’d whine, feeling your back continuously arch against the stained white sheets. geto’s got a few loose strands that continue to run down his face, past his brows—making him appear to be even more handsome whilst between your legs. each thoroughly slurp gets louder, and that’s when he starts to loll his tongue out inside of you.

one thing about suguru geto was that he had a long fuckin’ tongue..

it extends fully, and you give his hair a rough tug once the tip of his tongue playfully slithers its way near your twitching sensitive nub. at that moment, you feel a rapid chill race through you and you let off the most shrilling whimper. “ah! suguru, fuck, ‘m sensitive there, don’t s- stop,” and as you’re babbling from his lengthy tongue, he starts to purse his lips. they curl up, puckering fully before he’s drinking everything out of you.

it’s a long carnal suck that makes your eyes cross and you feel like your life’s flashing before your eyes. splotches of white were all that clouded your vision as your thighs shake—nearly suffocating him with your plush, warm legs. “o- oh, fuck,” you’d mewl, and you knew that incoming pressure from anywhere.

you were close.

geto grunts, savoring your taste entirely. you’re just so sweet that your flavor melts on his tongue and he’s teasingly thrusting his tongue in and out of your sobbing folds. seconds later, that’s when you shriek. “c’monnn, give it to me,” and he even brings a hand between your thighs, spanking your precious cunt. “make a mess on my tongue, wanna see what it’s like,” he groans, his rocking against the edge of the bed intensifying. geto’s famished for more, and his bare cock twitches against the rocky mattress frame as you’re squirming on his tongue. by now, he’s licked you clean, and in return, he’s left with a locked jaw and glimmering wet chin. geto eyes you intently, giving your pussy its final sloppy spank before whispering against your folds. “let go for me, baby.”

as if on cue, you gush out loudly, feeling every muscle within you snap ‘n stretch outward. it was as if a crushing weight was lifted from your shoulders—but in this case, your shoulders were your tummy. “fuuuck!” you whimper out, squeezing your eyes shut as your legs give out.

geto’s mouth was still glued to your sticky slippery cunt as his tongue’s slowed its licks down. you tasted even sweeter, and he’s slurping you right up - softly moaning against your cunt as he reaches to touch himself. geto’s tongue’s constant movements scratch such an itch in your brain, making you let off a cute gasp. “ughh, s- suguru,” you whimper, feeling your thighs still shiver.

your tummy heaves in and out repeatedly, and you glance down at geto who’s got the sleaziest grin. “t- thought you said you didn’t know what you were . . hah, doing.”

“oh, baby i don’t,” geto rasps, sitting up from between your legs. he closes the distance between you both, pressing a steamy hot kiss against your quivering plump lips. you moan, getting a brief taste of yourself on his hot tongue before he playfully bites near your bottom lip. “my research helped me a lot,” and you moan the second you feel him give your sloppy cunt a big squeeze with his palm. “but . . i didn’t know my girl was a squirter. think we’ll have to do that again,” geto licks underneath your chin. “y’know, for research purposes.”

#GOJO SATORU aka the loser virgin?!

“yeah, yeah,” satoru would stubbornly grumble, cutting you off mid-sentence and rolling his eyes. his leaky tip remains idle, aligning itself against your soddened entrance before he puffs. phew, you were so pretty up close—especially down there. satoru couldn’t help but stare, openly admiring just how slick ‘n soaked you were.

just weeping from both off folds, the entirety of your entrance being coated in nothing but perspiring wetness. satoru swears on his life he knows what he’s doing, but the second the globed head of his cock smears a line down the wet slope of your cunt - he folds.

with a shaky, needy breath, he whines. “god, why are you so fuckin’ wet, baby. ‘s this supposed to happen?”

“yes, ‘toru,” you reassure him, sprawling your legs out a bit more. satoru’s panting, watching as you bring two sets of fingers toward your pretty pussy. with a slightly wide ‘v’ shape, you’re spreading yourself apart and he’s gawking straight between your legs. fuck, you were so soaked that you were starting to drip near the inner crevices of your thighs. you were playing with yourself earlier before he told you how he wanted to try going inside for the first time. but now that he’s up close—satoru can’t help but be a bit flustered. “c’mere, don’t be shy,” and you nearly moan, trailing the print of your thumb down your syrupy-coated slit. “she doesn’t bite.”

satoru scoffs, but he inches closer. so wet, his cock that was being fisted in the palm of his hand was throbbing hard. pulse after fucking pulse, a lightning-shaped vein races down the center of his hand before he groans at how hard you’re making him. “ngh, baby,” and he nearly loses it the second he struggles to align himself. he feels so hot, fuzzy cotton stuffing in his ears once his tip slowly rubs itself in between your drooling flaps. satoru snaps out of it, clearing his throat before puffing out his chest in an attempt to maintain his known ego. “heh- i mean uh- let’s show ya how ‘the strongest’ fucks.”

and apparently, ‘the strongest’ didn’t really know what he was doing after all.

because he’s barely halfway in when he’s cumming - heavily.

emphasis on barely, and satoru lets out a sweet needy whine the second he’s shooting thin milky ropes into you. thick, stringy ribbons of cum envelope inside your pussy with warmth right away. “f- fuck, dammit,” he’d grunt, burying his face into the crook of your neck. satoru’s beefy body presses right up against yours, and he’s shivering at the feeling. it’s unlike any feeling he’s ever felt, and you giggle the second you hear him loudly sigh. “ugh, that wasn’t supposed ‘ta happen.”

“thought you knew what you were doin’, baby,” you cheekily reply, a few beads of sweat racing down the left side of your forehead. satoru sits up, leaning into your ginger embraces—your palm cupping his temple. he’s pouting, an unsatisfied pout extending across each side of his lips.

“i- i doo,” he whines, feeling his thighs starting to heat up near the undersides. satoru clenches his teeth, groaning once you gradually wrap your legs around his slim waist. he’s hot, and you’ve got him wrapped around your pretty ‘lil finger.

wide, crystal blue eyes meet your gaze before satoru exhales into your neck. “mnh, let me try again, baby,” and right as you rub your ankle down his tense back muscles, he gruffs. snowy flapping lashes of his shut tight before he wraps a hand around his lanky cock. “pleasee, c’mon baby. lemme prove myself. i’ll get it this time for real.”

a smile marinates its way against your features as you hum, rubbing a thumb down his sensitive undercut. for a second, you could have sworn you heard satoru purr as he leaned into your touch. you almost forgot how much of a tender spot that was for him. cute.

“okay, go ‘head,” and both of your thighs were practically sticking together. such amounts of his seed glue against your thighs—almost like it was some kind of clingy adhesive. satoru pulls out for a moment, eager to get a look at the sloppy mess and oh.. it was a lot - he came a lot, and satoru couldn’t help but stare at the luminous streams of cum that teared down your polished cunt.

it’s sloppy. satoru’s eyes widen once he feels his tip glide its way against your cervix. right near your g-spot - it’s fuckin’ bumpy, and he feels your legs eagerly twitch the minute his dick slides its way near a spongy area. you’re moaning, laid back before satoru starts to whine.

he can’t help but whimper, softly smacking his swollen tip on your entrance. satoru had no idea what to do next, but he just wanted to play with your pretty pussy some more. the loud echoey smacks from his dick onto your folds make his ears ring…pap after pap and he’s pronounced feral. but that’s right when you hear him sniffle, literally getting lost in your pussy the second he feels your cute pulse on his round, mushroomy tip.

as you wrap your arms around him, hearing him whine once you rub a thumb down his undercut, feeling him awkwardly trying to align himself again with a bashful needy grin.

“toru, are you cryin’?”

#CHOSO KAMO aka the virgin who barely lasts?!

“o- oh, fuckk,” he’d whine, twinkling eyes widening the second he’s watching your tummy cave in from behind. you’re so pretty like this, bent over, sprawled all out on all fours. choso’s stiffly still at first, and he’s very awkward with his hands. bulged, umber-colored eyes bore into your backside, gazing at your skin. stunning, choso grunts as he pistons his hips, glancing at the sunlight that radiates off a shiny part of your spine.

in choso’s eyes, you’re breathing pretty - art, and with the way your skin glimmers in the sun, you looked like a rare painting. “baby, you’re so warm inside.”

“mhm, don’t stop ‘cho,” you moan in response, feeling your loose jaw start to droop allll the way down. you nibble near the inside of your gummy cheek, gasping at just how big he is. his cock was huge, and it didn’t take him long at all to fit nice ‘n snug. its a semi-tight fit that makes your mouth start to water from the inside and you whine. “fuuck, ‘s okay, choso,” and he feels you wriggling your ass against him. choso’s eyes dart towards your bouncy rear and he huffs. “spank it.”

a shuddering breath leaves from choso’s pink parted lips before he lowly rasps. “yeah?” and you felt yourself throb, feeling him press himself all up against you. now, choso’s gently hovering his weight over your back whilst he’s still presenting you with passionate deep strokes. slowly but surely—he’s getting the hang of it, rummaging through your fleshy clingy insides with each punctuating hit. choso’s gruff heavy breaths fan down your neck before he moans, creeping a hand toward your ass. “i can spank you, baby?”

“mmh,” you whimper in response, hearing the salaciously wanton squelches of your cunt help out louder. saying that you were wet was a mere understatement, you were pouring all down his dick with your slick. choso could feel the wetted mess trail between your legs, coating the front of his thighs entirely with your viscid sap. he’s heard about intimacy but it was an entirely different thing to experience it firsthand. “spank me, choso. ‘s okay, you can be a ‘lil rough.”

“ ‘kay,” he huffs, and you let off a soft squeal the second his palm sharply swats against your ass. oh, he liked that. the way your rear recoiled, pretty skin bouncing quickly for a few seconds—all from a small whacking hit. the brief sting made your cunt pulse sporadically as he was still drilling into you. pump after pump, choso turns pussy drunk within seconds. “hah, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he whines, tracing a hand down the pretty curvature of your ass. his fingers dance down every juncture, and it’s almost heart-shaped. “baby, you’re makin’ me feel so—fuck.”

choso gets cut off from his words the moment he feels his dick throb between your soddened cunt. you’re wringing him dry, all while your head is cutely smushed up against your pillow. choso’s speed quickly starts to get relentless, and after a while, he’s starting to understand the human body just a bit more. “ah, choso. fuck me, fuck!” you’d whimper, a curling sensation arising within your toes right as he slams his way into your cervix.

it’s a direct hit, a k.o. as some would might say—and it’s almost as if you’ve got stars ‘n imaginary birds flying over your head like a cartoon because choso’s dick had you stupid.

“somethin’s c- comin’,” he moans, slightly lifting your leg to get a better view. it’s probably been a few minutes and choso’s already panting like a dog. he’s feral - softly planting a stripe of wet kisses down your neck as he’s buried balls deep. “ugh, baby. ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, ngh.”

“inside, ‘cho. ‘s okay,” you whine, feeling his pace grow more relentless and sloppy. choso’s gripping your waist tightly, his bottom lip quivering as he’s feeling a sudden rush overtake his entire body. you’re perfect - he wanted to keep you like this forever, plug you full and keep you warm. you could hear his rough, heavy pants from behind you until he finally came.

whitish thick ribbons pour into you all at once, shooting deep into your womb.

it’s hot - physically and literally.

you’re arched over for him like a bridge and he’s whimpering, furrowing his darkened brows with a pout as choso slowly starts to flood your cunt. globs of sleek strings spray inside your gripping cunt as he gradually pulls out, openly watching as you’re moaning. the feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock had him feeling fuzzy. “m- mhm, choso,” you’d mewl out, hearing him cutely gasp once your cunt sloshes loudly, spitting out thin clumps of his cum. “ ‘m so full.”

“hah- ‘n you’re gonna get even fuller, baby,” he huffs, a pout still glossing over his slickly-wet lips as he stares at your pussy. it’s pretty like this, he thinks. from top to bottom—you’re stuffed full of his gooey hot cum, so much to where it’s shamelessly oozing out of your puffed slit, racing down your numb jittery thighs. you moan, feeling choso drag a thumb down your sobbing, slobbering slit before popping his thumb into his mouth, licking his mess right off his finger.

choso moans at the taste before pouting. “not done, one more round,” and as he glides his tongue across his digit, choso gives your cunt a soft spank before groaning, softly pushing your knees to your chest.

“ ‘m still hungry.”

#TOJI FUSHIGURO aka the virgin who gets humbled?!

“heh. do y’r worst, baby,” toji would snicker, bringing a spank to your ass as he leans back against the couch. lazily, he’s slouching with a half-filled can of cheap beer in his hand. he’s smug, and not only was he smug but he was also virgin - the cockiest.

it’s funny because toji didn’t know what the fuck he was doing…however, he was more than willing for you to ‘show him’ how to feel good.

of course—he’s haughty that you won’t be able to take him, but it’s much to be expected for a pompous fratboy. “mmh, goddamn,” he’d grunt, peering down at your glossed weeping pussy. it’s wet, and as you straddle him, toji squeezes the energy drink in his hand. “slow, baby s- slow.”

with a cooing whisper, you sprinkle a few kisses near the inside of his neck. “slower, toji? but you’re the one who kept rushin’ me,” you tease, and from your peripherals, you can see his jaw tensing. fuck, the moment your cunt starts to ease down on his length in a gradually paced manner, toji groans. it’s a low husky groan - the groan where he’s already tossing his head back.

“y’r bein’ a brat,” he snarls, sliding an arm around your waist. your pussy was hypnotic - and you wearing one of his oversized jade-colored frat hoodies only made things ten times worse. you looked so pretty, and he couldn’t help but trail his hooded eyes down your body, stopping at the hem of your waist and right near your ass. “fuck- slow, baby. ‘m damn sensitive,” and you watch the sly smirk that was once plastered on his scarred lips slowly starting to fade. toji’s getting more ‘n more pussy drunk, and he knows it too. “mhh, like that. fuck me good.”

“you talk too much,” you teasingly grip his chin, watching as his leafy verdant eyes gaze into yours. he’s hard - and not only is he hard but he’s insanely sensitive. toji scoffs, but that soon disappears the moment your hips start to move. “hnghh,” you suck in a brisk breath, eyes nearly widening once you start to feel the gaping, lewd stretch. his cock was long ‘n tall—merrily expanding through your cunt within each thick inch.

one thrust - just one fuckin’ thrust and that was all it took for you to nearly break. he’s huge, and you whimper the second you feel his plump swollen sack kiss near the undersides of your bare ass. “oh yeah? make me shut up then.”

famous last words.

because even though toji’s all talk, he gets humbled right away the minute you change him as a person entirely all from your sweet, mesmerizing cunt. toji leans back, groaning gruffly against your ear as faint gurgled whines depart from his throat. you’re riding him good, shutting him with your pussy—humbling him with your hips. oh, you’re just riding him into complete oblivion. toji was left speechless, and instead of you moaning his name, he was moaning yours.

“ngh, fuck. god, ‘s good don’t fuckin’ stop workin’ those hips, s- shit,” he’d huskily snarl, squeezing the plastic can within his palm, crushing its shape. toji’s cologne scent was loud, and it completely rubbed off against your skin as you moaned. you were grinding against him back ‘n forth, whining continuously before milliseconds passed by and you’re now starting to feel your stomach churn churn churn.

each eye rolling, toe-curling feeling that twists in the depths of your insides due to his cock makes you sob out moan after moan. you try to silence yourself by sneaking a few needy kisses near toji’s scarred lip. he grunts with a clenched jaw, returning the gesture with a hand glued to your ass.

it moves like water - toji was always an ass man, and now that he was finally living the dream, he spanked you again, and again, and again.

the jiggle against his palm makes his dick throb, and you feel it right inside of your cunt. “doin’ okay, toji?” you tease breathlessly, watching as a shiny string of saliva tears away from both lips. you felt him squeeze his way wholly inside of your fleshy entrance, ploddingly and sloppily thrusting in and out.

“tch. less talkin’ more ridin—oh fuck,” he’d gruff, his shoulders slackening as you sensually rutted your hips further into him. god, you were teasing him so much and your wet, filthy cunt was to blame. he wanted more, more more. the way you moved in such a relentless manner drove toji crazy and he was starting to think maybe the two of you were just more than roommates. your pussy had that kind of power, and it’s not even seconds later before toji’s about to cum.

but surprisingly, he ends up lifting you with burly arms, pulling out with a speed equivalent to the flash. he moans, staring at his leaking reddened tip that’s dribbling from the slit with sticky droplets of warm cum. he’s heaving, staring back at your sparkly-coated cunt before he makes you recline back against the couch.

“f- fuck, ‘s much. lie back, baby. l- lie back for me,” and once you do, he merely pounces on you. toji exhales out a deep, heavy sigh before aligning his swollen tip near your dripping cunt. “god, look at ‘er,” he grunts, and you could hear the tremor in his voice as he’s spraying his seed on the outer part of your wetted entrance. it’s long, striped stripes of ivory ropes that paint your bare tender clit and he licks his lips at the filthy sight. “hah, so fuckin’ hot. milkin’ me like that, f- fuck.”

“you came pretty quick, toji,” you jibe, spreading your sopping cunt lips apart so he could play between your legs some more. with a loud ‘thwack’, toji smacks his swollen tip against your pussy, smearing his blushing crownhead up ‘n down your stained crying slit. it’s so messy, and you watch as his tongue briefly sticks out between his ruby lips.

“let’s not talk ‘bout that,” toji grumps, and you moan the second he’s re-aligning himself. his fat girth was ready to introduce itself yet again to your swollen insides. toji’s still panting, and you can see how flustered he was because he’s visibly pouting. “f- fuck, i . . i need a minute,” and he pulls back out, slouching back against the couch. you crawl over toward him and within a split second he wraps an arm around you.

yeah, he’s obsessed.

“give me . . a minute,” he huffs, his chiseled abs flexing through his grey dingy tank. toji pulls you into his beefy hardened pecs before staring down at you, and your eyes widen once he kisses the top of your forehead. “next time, ‘m gonna last ten- no, thirteen rounds.”

“sureee thing, big guy.”

spoiler - he doesn’t.

#INO TAKUMA aka the virgin who…falls in love?!

ino who moans out a sweet gasping, “f- fuuck me,” the second he’s easing his way inside of you for the first time. his dick feels soft for a second, tenderly assuaging through your insides before he whimpers at the new feeling. ino’s heavily panting out short breaths, staring at your bare exposed body that prettily sits underneath him before he moans. “ ‘m not hurtin’ you, right, angel?”

“no, no. ‘m fine, ino,” you let off a soft sigh, the lower parts of your legs snaking around his waist. ino grunts, going as slow as he can. he’s barely even a few inches in and he’s already sweating profusely. “easyy, that’s it, baby,” you reassure him with labored breaths, staring into his droopy hooded eyes. ino’s beanie was on the verge of sliding off the side of his head before he sucks his teeth at your gripping warmth. “hold my hand, here,” and you could feel his body shudder the moment you intertwine your fingers against his.

he’s big, and he knows it. ino scrunches his dark brows into a furrow, trying his best to blindly navigate his way inside of your cunt. right away, you’re clenching around him tight, locking your unstable legs around his waist before hearing him let off a sweet whimper.

“ugh, you feel so good, so good,” and within each wet-sounding thrust, his words start to pitch. it gets lower ‘n lower, raspy and husky. ino’s skin starts to glue against you thanks to the splotches of sweat dampening against each other before he huffs. “tell me it's too much, ngh—fuck,” and his eyes soften the moment you cup his face. “s- sorryy, am i talkin’ too much?”

“ ‘s okay, ino,” you inhale, and his pace starts to get quicker. vast, thorough thrusts make you feel every inch. his frantic rhythm rocks into you steadily, causing the bed to constantly wail out pathetic whiney creaks. you brush a thumb across the side of his cheek before moaning, feeling his tip zigzag its way across your sensitive g-spot. “ah! right there, ino. there, baby t- thereee.”

“there, oh- okay,” he tries to take note, studying your body’s movements. into felt his cock twitch at your reaction. so cute. you’d clench around him tight before arching your back, dragging your nails down his soft skin. ino’s stretching you out to the very limit, plummeting his dick into you over and over until you’re seeing nothing but cloudy blobs of white. you hadn’t even realized your eyes were lulling near the back of your head before he cheekily pointed it out. “heh, you look kinda silly like this pretty girl.”

you shoot him a playful glare whilst he’s still driving himself into your mid-thrust and ino sheepishly snickers. “sorry, sorry,” and with a sticky smooch, he brings his lips up against yours. ino’s pace starts to pick up more and more, championing his chiseled askew hips into you. “ah, i think ‘m gonna cum though, shitshitshit,” and as he’s rambling, ino starts to feel his hips into you quicker. “hah, lovie- tell me what ‘ta do. where do i f- finish,” he’d huff breathlessly, sliding his scarred hands near the sides of your waist. “tell me, pretty.”

“inside, baby,” you whisper against the shell of his ear. ino’s eyes widen - darkening, and he groans. the way you talked to him so sweet in his ear, even licking against the outer lobe makes him shiver. you’re a tease, and he only wanted more. ino wanted more . . of you. “wan’ you inside.”

“say it again,” he shakily whines against your neck, nipping a few invisible kisses near the juncture of your exposed collarbone. you tasted sweet, and ino’s mind spun cogwheels throughout each second he’s spent buried inside of you. “talk ‘ta me in that pretty voice- wanna hear you again. p- please.”

with a sobbing mewl from the brief twinges that slowly form into pleasure—you repeat yourself in a desperate mewling cry of, “inside, ino. please, f- fuck me,” and oh- if you saw the look on his face. his heart’s pounding as he’s mercilessly driving his hips into you at full fuckin’ throttle.

ino’s groaning into your neck, feeling his body growing limp before a lengthy multitude of seconds goes by and he’s cumming, hard.

it’s a thin hefty load - runny, stringy ribbons of feverish hot cum that splatters deep inside of you.

ino melts like a puddle into your embrace as you wrap your arms around him. “fuuuck, i lo-” he pauses, getting silenced by a shattering breath. your pussy’s got him secured on a leash, and he’s groaning once he hears himself pour such slimy amounts way into your womb. it sprays everywhere, painting inside and out.

ino kisses his teeth sharply, pressing one more kiss near the tip of your nose before moaning. “h- heh, think i love you, angel,” and you moan, feeling him slowly raise your leg, tossing it over your shoulder.

a hand of his creeps between your gloss-coated, gooey legs that practically stuck together before he pulls out midway, smearing a palm against your stuffed pussy. “ ‘n i love her especially, s- so much.”

[attractthecrows]

man i'd really like for revallen to encounter the ghost of his father but with his skillset it's just not likely