#and kept the palms in the 80s

[murdockdevil-remade]

andela ribeiro stats

basics:

status: active in 'whispering palms' aka the palms 3.0 other versions will have their own stat sheets.

full name: andela ribeiro

nicknames: andy

gender: cis woman

pronouns: she/her

sexual and romantic orientation: bisexual biromantic

age: 32

date of birth: april 26

zodiac sign: taurus

residence: whispering palms. which is basically like los angeles, ca

originally from: new valley. which is brooklyn, new york.

powers: photographic reflexes and regenerative healing

occupation: bartender / former surgical resident

species: powered

main verse: retrofuturism. 

appearance:

faceclaim: B/EATRIZ M/ARTINELLO

voice claim: lorn/a morell/o from orange is the new black (she shouldn't but she does lmfao)

height: 5ft11in

build: slim

eyes: brown, almond shaped

hair: black

piercings: double pierced ears

tattoos: no tattoos

other distinguishing features: her smile is a little lopsided / she likes to wear her hair down / she tends to talk with her hands

style: she tends to dress fancy and put-together in sleek black outfits that are in fashion because she enjoys looking like she has her life together even though she doesn’t. she wants to feel good, because it makes her feel good.

personality:

traits: playful / determined / reliable / loyal / overindulgent / stubborn / easily bored

labels / tropes: to add.

mental health: i don’t really like labeling my characters mental health, but she does have some mental health troubles due to past trauma.

physical health: is healthy in this area. minus some scars.

likes: puzzles / eating the corner pieces of cake / 80s music / playing jeopardy and wheel of fortune when it's on television / cooking and baking / naming different parts of the human body / observing

dislikes when people underestimate her / not being challenged / scorpions

fears: scorpions / losing her sister

Phobias: doesn't have one?

hobbies: cooking / dancing / learning

skills: cooking (she's gifted in cooking, due to her mother teaching her to cook) / sewing (she can sew and knit due to her father's influence)/ hand-to-hand combat (father had her learn various fighting styles growing up and she kept up with a few into adulthood)/ weaponry (especially anything dealing with random old weapons. but she knows about weapons mostly due to father being hyper vigilant. she also collects old weapons.) / medical (primary skill due to studying in school)

quirks: talking with her hands. humming to herself.

pet peeves:  when people talk down to her. talking with mouth full of food.

family:

mother: christina ribeiro

father: cristian ribeiro

Siblings: mia ribeiro

birth order: mia ribeiro, andela ribeiro

spouse / lover: currently verse dependent.

children: none.

pets: a pet turtle named mr t

notable close relatives: various.

other: various.

best friend: various.

Rival: various.

crushing on: various.

nemesis: various.

Other: various. 

faves:

ice cream flavour: rocky road

time of the day / night: night

weather: cloudy

breakfast food: french toast

dinner food: spaghetti

colours: purple

songs: the sign by ace of base

other random stuff:

a cherished item: a locket with her mother’s picture in it

first love: a girl from college

usual mood: neutral

1 thing they want to do / experience before they die: calm

defining moments: quitting her residency and when her sister went missing.  

[theastrical]

a heritage

a short drabble; where zhongli kept on seeing the same you all over again in all of your different lifetimes; in the same exact moment you forget his existence. Hence, he keep all of your favorite stuff..in order for him not to forget a single part of your past lives with him.

zhongli x reader

“It’s not like you would remember me..” , he said that nonchalantly. His palm delicately folding yours. Making sure it felt secure and comfortable, at least for him, it felt like warming up a cold blanket; comfortable yet…exhausting.

he looks at you…his smile hasn’t appeared and you don’t know when will it ever appear again.

“then at least, take what’s left from me.”

“i have done so ever since your 2nd life begun and it didn’t help you recover your memory from those lives you’ve been through…it’s useless.”

“but you still keep it and that speaks volumes. You’re a hypocrite..” you laugh quietly, wanting to make him at least hate you or even get mad at you. Just a hint of emotion is what you crave for.

“because you took so long.” he whispers, his head has dropped onto the floor, like he was defeated from a certain question. “and i miss you.” The end of his words stung that same spot on your heart. emotion is a weakness that zhongli can easily point out from you…yet it’s also the same strength you have that he lacks off.

either because him reflecting his emotion means that he become human overtime or…

his figure tremble slightly and suddenly a sudden cough was heard before he confesses..“I’m sorry…even in your 13th life, i’m still crying over your mortality. I’m so stupid for loving you…it’s addicting to be involved in pain.”

oh my zhongli, whatever happened to your eyes? It has never been this warm…

or has it? no…i don’t know. I will never know.

“I’m relieving history again and somehow..it feels so good…” he say that before crying even further. His tears are running down like a waterfall. Yet he doesn’t even squints his eyes or have that trembling mouth curve. He’s tired of crying. He’s tired of me.

he gently takes off your ring…

“even gods hate to see death, you know?”

he kisses the back of your palm. “I can feel you losing your own self now…”

he kisses your fingertips. “then just…rest, i’ll wait again.”

“you’ve grown old, you’ve lived off towards good and bad moments…you’ve done what you could to stay with me in this life.”

“someday, i’ll find you again. And i’ll make sure, you remember me before you die. Just like this time…that time…and the next.”

you smile, your eyes puffy from his words. You wishes more but…80 years? That’s basically 8 seconds for him but 500 years for you. But That’s okay. That will always be okay. Because you know, death will be painless, death will come and go just like when his lips taste yours for the very last time.

“goodnight zhongli.”

and there’s your ring…between your favorite items beside his collection of your favorite stuffs in your past life.

ring…flower petals…piece of cloth…and…just a picture of you and him.

“for zhongli, don’t forget me!”

because soon, his duty is to remind you of him…and to make sure, his immortality is spent for you, and only you.

taglist: @esthelily @indarius @n0tamused @sangoqueenkoko @voidlesslove @lyralibra @eroxotckv @rikasurl @dailypenpen @daydreaming-paradies

[127tyong]

2 Baddies

Pairing: Jaehyun X Reader

Genre: Smut, jealous Jaehyun, car sex

Warnings: he's kinda aggressive idk

Word Count: 789

“No, it’s not like that!” You yelled at Jaehyun for the millionth time. “I swear to God! He’s your fucking friend anyways!” You tried to reason with Jaehyun, to no avail. After leaving a house party with your boyfriend, Jaehyun, you quickly realized how angry Jaehyun truly was that night. You spent most of your night talking to Johnny, which had apparently made Jaehyun jealous.

At this point, Jaehyun just kept tapping the steering wheel. Despite his urge to scream, he was able to keep his mouth shut, but was unable to keep his foot off the gas, the speedometer number climbing. 70, 80, then 90. At least it was nearly 12 am, so there was no one else on the highway, but you were sure he would’ve just swerved past everyone anyways.

“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun! What, do you not even want me to talk to Johnny! He’s your best friend, and what, you don’t even trust him?” You clutched onto the arm rest, palms sweating, scared Jaehyun wouldn’t even be able to see anything ahead of him.

Jaehyun jerked the steering wheel right, entering the emergency lane, slamming on the brakes and putting the gear to “park”. You were stuck with Jaehyun, God knows where, in his sports car on the shoulder of the highway. You watched as his chest fell, as he let out a breath he was holding for the entire night. 

“You know I love you, right?”

You grabbed his hand, trying to calm him down. “Of course I do, I love you too…”

“Johnny likes you, it’s so fucking obvious!” He punched the dashboard, indenting his hand. “And I hate that you can’t see it.”

“He’s your best friend, so I assumed-”

“Of course you just assumed.” Jaehyun sighed, rubbing his temples. “God, you don’t get it. Do you not see how he looks at you?”

“No, of course I didn’t, because you’re overreacting!”

And that’s all it took to set Jaehyun off. He pulled you into the back seat, his eyes furious. 

“Wait,” You held your hands up. “On the highway? What if-”

“No one’s gonna see as long as you don’t let them.” He began to rip off all your clothes while kissing you, while you pushed him off.

“Jae, talk to me…” But he didn’t listen to you, his lips instantly crashing onto yours, his tongue swirling around your mouth.

He took off his belt and wrapped it around your wrists, making makeshift handcuffs. “Baby… Fuck, I love you so much.” He pushed his dick inside you, feeling the warmth you gave him. Deep down, Jaehyun knew you weren’t in the wrong, but the anger made him horny in a way he couldn’t ignore, so he played into it. He knew Johnny would never make a move on you, afterall, he already told Johnny about the ring he had made for you, but his jealousy always got the better of him. “You’re so fucking tight baby…”

Jaehyun’s dick really always made your problems go away. You let that man do whatever he wanted to do with your body. “Jaehyun, please…” You whined, your back arching at the feeling of the insane amount of pleasure he brought you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep going until you cum.” Jaehyun cupped your cheek and began kissing you as he thrusted. 

You rolled your eyes. “What a sweet talker.” Suddenly the bright lights of a car’s high beams blinded you.

Jaehyun pushed you down and laid on top of you until the car passed, his dick still inside you, and you managed to slip the belt off your wrists. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he sat up.

“What was that about you trying to make me cum?” You laughed.

Jaehyun didn’t know why that sentence pissed him off, especially since he knew he made you cum all the time, but he wasn’t just pretending to be mad anymore. He genuinely wanted to fuck you until you begged him for forgiveness. And that he did.

He wrapped a hand around your throat and slammed his dick as deep as he could, until he could feel your cervix. “What was that? Hm? Wanna repeat what you just said, you fucking whore?”

“Jae, I-” You tried to apologize but Jaehyun was fucking you so hard that you couldn’t even talk. Your womb was already starting to become sore, but you knew you two would be fucking all night.

“Oh my God, your pussy just feels so good…” Jaehyun groaned. “I’m gonna cum.”

You felt the warmth grow in your stomach. Jaehyun pulled out and got into the front seat. Driving home, you felt his cum leak onto the leather seats until he pulled into the garage.

(incomplete but might finish if enough people want)

[inknopewetrust]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 [𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮] [𝒔𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌]

summary: the colors of life change with time, but the music that narrates it lives on forever in one, standstill moment of the 1990s where success and passion came tumbling down. Years later, the story is declassified.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: minors dni (18+), this is based off of fleetwood mac/daisy jones and the six so imagine mid-80s and 90s rock scene, language, lil bit a spice, a whole lotta angst, enemies to lovers to enemies to…

In a world where words meant so much, it was difficult to find them at a time where they were needed.

The cool wire weaved against your skin. Its path crawling like a snake of retrospection from the bottom of your chair to your chest. There was a pebble of sweat threatening to spill from the top of your hairline in the hot California sun which made you think:

"Why the fuck did I ever move out of Indiana?"

But if you closed your eyes, you could recall why. A sickening, thunderous roar of the crowd–you could still hear it now. Somewhere, thumping in the back of your mind as their chants filled a space that breathed a new life within you as the another was dying.

An echo chamber of the taste of metal against lips; the white knuckle grip that still threatened to slip from your grasp.

The woman who sat across from you had a plastic smile on her lips. For her, it was nothing more than a job. An exploitive adventure where you'd be sticking headlines and messages across platforms for weeks to come because of this tell-all documentary.

"When did you know?"

Against cynicism the inevitable hardness of the culture you had immersed yourself in at one time had risen again and the attitude that rose promised a truthful reflection of your experience.

On the floor beside the mics battery pack, a half smoked carton of cigarettes met a glazed palm and the woman watched as a perfectly rolled stick land between two mauve lips. As the flame sparked, your eyes darted to hers.

"Know what?" you muttered between the smoke.

“When it was finally over?”

You could feel the breath being sucked out of your soul. The shudder radiating like a shutter letting rain inside of the home in the canyon; kissing the very center of a heartbeat that stopped at the sight of a pair of eyes, shoes peaking through a doorway.

The cigarette burned between your fingers. Ticking away like a bomb with scorching red embers fighting its casing.

“The Album was the best and worst thing to ever happen to any of us… that sounds ridiculous,” you scoffed, shaking your head and the woman quirked her head.

“It sounds ridiculous that something so magical, something so brilliant, can make those who built it feel small. It put us in a fishbowl and it took every last drop from our cup before it dried up and cracked under the heat… that's when I knew it was over."

She shifted in her seat, readjusting the papers to organize her thoughts. You imagined there was no sounder way of stating it. It was the truth, frank, and to the point but something the rest of them negated to realize or speak into words.

But she shook her head. “Yes, the band… but what of the relationships?”

“None of us had known about Steve and Nancy, Robin and Vickie had barely interacted until their writing began and by the end… well you can read plenty of articles about the end of it all.”

You drew from the cigarette again. Smoke filling the air around you like a mist; the woman kept digging.

“And Eddie and yourself?”

“Well…”

That heart-skipping beat never left. Laurel Canyon was so far away, the studio was a memory, and the stage was a phantom piece of your imagination yet the simple mention of a name so far removed was enough to make time stand still.

Somewhere, a young woman frozen and left wondering the "what if" of a life not shrouded by fanatics and the thrumming of a guitar. Somewhere, lost in the violence of a summer and the shattered glass of a heart left on a stoop, that girl remained inside.

“It was always complicated.”

“So,” she shrugged at you as if the conversation was nothing more than such. It wasn’t as though she was here to get all the details of every part of a life that had already played out in public if people had only been paying attention.

It wasn’t as though she was cracking open a mountain full of jeweled memories that had crystalized themselves in the past.

“When did it all go wrong?”

Feeling the sting of the camera focus on your face, there were two responses to this question that many had already answered before you:

"When did it all go wrong?" You lamented to yourself.

When did you know it was over? When did it all go wrong?

The woman's eyes glistened in excitement. Her story was unraveling before her. You took a drag again.

Fuck. You thought to yourself.

And the film began to play.

A/n: I'm excited to get back in the writing game - especially with Eddie. Let me know your early thoughts! Yay, nay, slay?

[crystalandparrot]

ROTTMNT x Reader

Part 1, Part 2

The flashing of cameras and the voices of reporters was the first thing Leonardo heard as he stepped out of his limo. Due to the long plane ride, Leo decided to wear comfort over fashion, although it's hard for him to look bad in anything. He wore a white wife-beater, revealing his plastron and tattooed arms. Much like his brother, Leonardo loved art, he just loved it in a more show-off sense. Of course, he let his brother give him his first tattoo, a large colored portrait of their family on his thigh. On his legs were blue sweats, a personal favorite that his agent always advised him not to wear. Expensive shoes designed for him specifically adorned his feet. Finally, silver chains decorated his wrists and neck (he would have chosen gold, but his brother advised against it. C'mon, blue and gold?), glistening with each movement. He flashed a smirk at the cameras and gave finger guns at fans. One of his bodyguards leaned close to whisper in his ear, "You have a meeting with the executive producers in thirty minutes."

"Which means I get at least twenty-eight minutes to strut my stuff." Leo chuckled. With split-second motions, Leo changed between poses, performing for the camera.

"-mask!"

Leo turned and stared into the crowd, "W-Who said that?" The crowd parted as if making way for a royal or God to walk without interruption. A small woman with a microphone in her hand shook as Leo approached. "Just now, you said something, what was it?"

The small girl stuttered, "I asked i-if you could put on y-your mask. F-for a picture for Channel 10?"

Leo's heart dropped, and his breathing quickened. A pat on his shoulder shook him out of his mini panic attack. He nodded thanks at his bodyguard and gave the reporter a quick grin, " I don't even know where that old thing went! It's been, what, psshh, five years? It's probably shoved in a box somewhere." That satiated the hungry reporters and fans, for now. Leo and his bodyguard left, heading off to the large building behind the crowd.

Okay, first things first. You don't know the old password so you can't change it to one you'll remember. So you changed the screen dimming time to never. Now the phone won't shut off on its own. Dialing your number, you called about three times with no answer. A sudden thought crosses your mind, causing your palm to hit your face. Your phone was on silent. Taking a deep breath, you quickly texted your number, explaining the situation and the password to unlock your phone. That way the turtle Yokai won't be as clueless as you are now.

With nothing else to do, you connected your headphones to the turtle's phone and searched for Spotify. It was his fault, the least he could do was spare some tunes. Wait a minute...his Spotify account...this dude was Othello Von Ryan? Man, you couldn't wait to see him again. His studying playlists kept you awake and alert through college! His barrage of random music, ranging from 80's dancing music to hardcore techno kept your mind alert and focused. Donnie, or, Othello Von Ryan, helped you with memory. Oddly enough, some of the quirky tunes in his playlists gave you memorization songs.

In fact, now that you think about it, Donnie looked an awful lot like your favorite actor--

"(Y/n)! Come in, dear! I've been expecting you!" A shrill voice called from across the street.

You looked up, spotting Mrs. Erin, the Heron Yokai. You grinned, pulling your headphones out of your ears and shoving them in your pocket. You waved at the Yokai as you crossed the street, stepping into her swampy garden. "How's your husband, Mrs. Erin?"

"Oh, Harry's fine! Come in! Come in! Let me get you a cup of tea." The old Yokai hobbled inside, her talons dragging across the waterlogged wood. You followed behind closely, used to the drab environment. You learned throughout life that the more you understand how something came to be, the more beautiful it becomes. With a clap from you, the twinkling string of lights came on. It's warm glow bouncing off the waxy leaves that broke through the cracked windows. Dew drops fell onto the wet floor, filling the room with quiet plip plaps.

A chipped cup of lukewarm tea was placed in your hand. A feathery hand pushed you down onto an old rocking chair, the owner of the hand sitting down across from you. "I want you to tell me all about this new job!" Erin grinned with a toothless smile.

"It's just a small librarian job at the school up top." You said, sipping your tea.

"Up top! With all those-those monsters?" Erin screeched.

"They're not all monsters! Some of them—"

"(Y/n). When your mother died I promised your father I'd make sure that you were safe! W-wouldn't you rather stay home? Marry a nice Yokai and settle down?" Erin tottered closer to you and grabbed your hands.

You chuckled, "I'm not exactly looking for someone to settle down with yet. I'm ready to get out there and explore! Besides, I can protect myself!" You said, proudly.

"E-even with all the humans?" Erin stuttered.

You blinked at Erin, your face neutral, "Mrs. Erin. I'm human."

"I know! B-but you're one of the good ones! I'd hate for you to go up top where I won't know what happened—Oh!" The old Yokai snatched the cup of tea from your hands and peered into the old china. She glared at the leaves and swirled the remaining liquid in the cup. With a gasp that jostled your core, Erin’s beak stretched into a long smile. She breathed a sigh of relief and set down the cup. “I was worried for nothing. You’re going to fall in love and get married to a nice, young, handsome Yokai.”

You shook your head, yet a smile still sat on your cheeks, “Maybe in a couple of years, Mrs. Erin. I’m not in any rush to get married to anyone right now.”

“Oh, I’m sure!” The Heron chuckled like she knew something you didn’t. Without warning, she began pushing you out of the house. “Okay, bye-bye now! The quicker you go up top the faster you fall in love!” With that, the door was slammed in your face, the sound echoing through the marshy area.

“Love you too.” You said flatly. You pulled the mystery phone back out of your pocket and put in your earbuds again. When you clicked onto Spotify, a notification popped up.

“Leonardo Hamato back in NYC for upcoming movie shoot, exclusive interview from Channel 10.”

Huh. How weird would it be if you ran into your favorite actor while after just moving back up top? Probably entirely impossible, but it was nice to hope, right?

"Shoved in a box?! Did you hear him?"

"I did."

"Shoved in a box?! Ugh! He's just so—"

"Annoying, pompous, overconfident, lacking in empathy, ass-like?"

Mikey turned to Donnie, his hair falling into his face as his head whipped around. "I was gonna say stupid, but yeah, those work too." Mikey nodded, turning back to the T.V, seeing the reporters final words to the camera once Leo left the cameras view.

Donnie felt himself N.E., which stood for Nose Exhale. Mikey learned that phrase years ago and thought it was more fitting than L.O.L for his emotionally unavailable brother. While it was rare for Donnie to "laugh out loud", when he found something humorous, he always let out a little breath of a chuckle through his nose.

"I just...out of everything he could have done...why'd he have to take away the one thing that..."

When Mikey paused, Donnie looked up from his purple holographic screens that he had been typing on. He saw Mikey looking at the screen sadly, and he knew it wasn't from the sad dog commercial that came on, but the interview that came before it. "That what, Michael?" Donnie asked, the screens disappearing.

"Nothing, it's stupid," Mikey sniffed, wiping his eyes before tears could escape.

"Leo is stupid, you're emotionally intelligent. You obviously have a reason to feel what you feel. You're not stupid for feeling emotions, Michelangelo." Donnie used his full name with the intention of leaving an impact.

Mikey chuckled and turned to Donnie, tears running down his smiling face, "Thanks, D."

Donnie nodded and sat up in his bean bag (yes it was his, the purple color made it obvious), "I may have taken a page or two from Dr. Delicate Touch," he shrugged.

"Nah, that was Dr. Feelings for sure," Mikey joked, knowing his brother was rather uncomfortable with feelings, but to be fair, he had gotten a lot better. Realizing this, Mikey sighed. Donnie appreciated honesty over anything, so this was something he needed to get off his chest, for his sake and his brother's. "Dad always called us by the color of our masks. Red, Orange, Purple...but Leo's not wearing his anymore. It's like he disowned us...he's not Blue anymore." Mikey began tucking his head and limbs into his shell with every word. By the end of his sentence, only his shell was visible sitting in front of the empty recliner.

This time Donnie sighed, he stood and gripped the purple beanbag so it stayed comfortably on his rear while he shuffled towards his brother. Letting gravity help him, Donnie let himself and the beanbag fall to the ground. He wiggled slightly and hummed, pleased at the fact that his position hadn't changed and the beanbag was still holding his shell and rear perfectly. Using his hand, he hesitantly patted Mikey's shell in comfort. "Leonardo's done some idiotic things in the past. I'd put this in his top ten, actually." Donnie thought aloud, but shook his head, remembering his original point, "He’s a dumb-dumb but, unfortunately, he'll never stop being our brother."

Mikey poked his head out, looking in Donnie's eyes for...something. A lie? Hope? Donnie didn't know, but whatever he found, he liked it, because the next moment, Mikey had his head and limbs out. He outstretched his arms, but didn't move aside from that. Donnie rolled his eyes, although a small smile poked at his lips. With a nod from Donnie, Mikey jumped onto him, giving him the tightest hug that he thought he'd ever received. Donnie hugged back.

Thankfully for Donnie, Mikey understood boundaries, and separated from Donnie before the hug got too overwhelming. Sloppily wiping his tears and sucking up his snot, Mikey gave Donnie a sincere smile. "Thanks, Don."

Donnie nodded, a small smile on his own lips. Out of his battle shell came a robotic arm holding a tissue. Mikey took the tissue and blew his nose as the robotic arm retracted back into the shell. "Hey-"

"I would prefer if you finished blowing your nose before you change the subject, please." Donnie asked, pulling up his holographic screens once more with the help of his Ninpō.

Mikey obeyed, then tossed the tissue into the trashcan on the other side of the room. When it landed, Mikey pumped his fist in a silent cheer. "What happened at the Mystic City? We were chasing Meat Sweats and you stopped to talk to some girl." Mikey remembered.

"Oh, yeah. Raph was texting about meeting for dinner, so I naturally opened my messages to form a reply, when—" Donnie pulled out his phone to show Mikey the texts when he immediately felt something amiss. The case was the same, the weight was equal to his phone, the model was the exact same, everything looked fine. But this is Donnie, he lost his phone for less than a day and went nearly insane when he was still a teenager. Give him a week and he might've made a phone from just things in the woods. He knew everything about his phone.

"Donnie?" Mikey called, noticing his brother's sudden silence.

Shakily, Donnie turned over the phone, noticing the background first, then the surplus of texts and calls from his phone number. He whispered something too quiet for Mikey to hear.

"What?" Mikey asked, putting his hand up to the side of his head where his ear would have been.

"This. Isn't. My. Phone."

[ashwhowrites]

angst with robin w/ minor smut?

Reader and Steve are dating but Robin and Reader have been sneaking behind Steve’s back and hooking up. after one of their hook-up sessions, Robin begs the reader to just call things off with steve and be with her but reader refuses because she wasn’t ready to be in a full on relationship with a women yet with it being the 80’s and everything so the reader calls it off but since robin and steve are still close she still has to see/hear steve and reader do couple things together.

it’s totally okay of you don’t end up writing this but still thanks for your time!! xxx

Oh, my poor Rob. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting

The she and he's

Robin felt like the worst best friend in the world. The second Steve found a girl who really liked him, she fell for her. Y/N walked into both of their lives and flipped them upside down.

Steve, who already was a sucker for love, was swept off his feet after one conversation. He couldn't remember any words from it, but he remembered her smile, laugh, and how heavenly her voice sounded. He fell in love at first glance.

But so did Robin.

Robin knew Y/N and Steve had this instant connection and she was jealous. She was so envious of Steve that she felt like she hated him, just a little bit. She hated how easy it was for him to tell a girl he liked her, not so easy for Robin. She would have to risk the whole town turning on her if she ever admitted to liking a girl. So Robin had to sit back and watch Y/N fall in love with Steve.

But when the opportunity came up to get a tiny taste of Y/N for herself, she wasn't strong enough to say no. Both girls were drunk, Steve went to the bathroom, and they were giggling. Then someone leaned in and they kissed. They pulled away and both felt guilty. Their plan was to not tell Steve and to never let it happen again.

They kept one of those promises

~~~

That's how Robin found herself against the bed and Y/N fingering her into bliss.

Robin whimpered as her manicured hands gripped the sheets.

Steve was going to be here any minute and Robin tried to care, but she had Y/N's attention and she wanted to keep it.

Her orgasm was close as she stole Y/N in for a kiss. Both girls moaned as Y/N deepened the kiss with her tongue.

"So wet, Rob," Y/N teased when she pulled away. A huge smirk on her face as she fucked Robin faster. Robin's wet cunt echoed throughout Y/N's room, she thought about how many times Steve was pleasured on the same bed.

"GIRLS! DADDY'S HOME!" Steve laughed to himself as he entered.

Robin's eyes went huge as she panicked

Y/N just placed a finger over her lips, telling Robin to stay quiet. Y/N didn't remove her fingers though, continuing to push Robin over the edge.

Robin grew nervous as she heard Steve's footsteps coming up the stairs.

"WE ARE COMING! CAN YOU START THE OVEN?" Y/N yelled back

Robin felt her eyes roll in the back of her head when Y/N attached her lips to Robin's clit. Steve's heavy footsteps disappeared.

"Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me,"

~

Y/N and Robin walked into the kitchen, Steve was prepping dinner as the stove warmed up.

"So sexy seeing you cook," Y/N said as she wrapped her arms around Steve's body. Her palms flat against his chest as she moved them up and down.

Steve shuddered under her touch. "Thank you," he said, turning around in her arms. She moved her hands to be wrapped around his neck and he slid his hands around her waist.

They shared a smile before they met their lips in a kiss.

Robin felt her eyes burn as she watched the two share a kiss, so lost in their own little world. She distracted herself as she grabbed a drink from the fridge.

The oven beeped and Robin was relieved that the couple departed. Steve went back to focusing on dinner and Y/N sat on the counter next to him.

Robin wanted to believe that Y/N didn't love him. But Robin knew she did. It was in her eyes and in the way she talked about him. But maybe she loved Robin too. Maybe she was just stuck in a triangle and loved the boy and the girl. Loving the boy was easier.

~

Dinner felt like it lasted centuries for Robin. She fought back tears as the couple cleaned the dishes together. The way Steve blew soap and the bubbles popped on Y/N's face. Instead of being annoyed, she giggled and did it back. Then they shared a soapy kiss. It made Robin sick.

Then the night came to an end and Robin could breathe again as Steve left.

Robin twiddled with her thumbs as she asked Y/N to talk.

"What's up?" Y/N asked, sitting on the couch next to Robin, her body turned to face her.

"Do you love him?" Robin asked, her eyes staring into Y/N's. Y/N worried about where this conversation was going to lead. But she figured after months of sneaking around, it was going to happen.

"Of course I do," Y/N sighed. And she meant it. She felt guilty every single time she got caught up with Robin. But her heart was split into two and a piece was gifted to both of them. She wished she didn't, she wished she could just love Steve and nothing would have to be difficult.

"Do you love me?" Robin asked, she gulped as she waited for the answer. She was scared to know but also scared to leave it as a what-if.

"I think I do," Y/N confessed. "I believe if I didn't, that I wouldn't be sneaking behind his back. I wouldn't have felt anything when we kissed and we wouldn't be doing what we are. I would have walked away the first time."

Robin felt her heart race at the idea of Y/N being in love with her. But deep down she feared that wasn't going to be enough.

"Do you ever wish you weren't with him?" Robin asked, she began to pick at her nails.

"what are you trying to ask me?" Y/N snapped

"If you'd pick me over him," Robin said, she stood up and began pacing. "I love you and I know if we ever got together, it would destroy everything. It would kill Steve and put a target on our backs. But isn't that what love is? Full of challenges and sacrifices? There isn't anything that would stop me from being with you."

"Robin," Y/N sighed. "I told you in the beginning that I wasn't going to leave him."

"I know, but has your mind changed at least a little?" Robin asked

"No, it hasn't. Because I love him, Robin. And I'm sorry that I do. But I'm not going to leave him."

"How can you say you love him when you are going behind his back?" Robin snapped

"Don't do this," Y/N said as she stood up. "Don't go down that road because we will never come back from it." She growled. "Plus you aren't any better. You are his best friend!"

Robin knew she had a point. She bit her cheek as she wrapped her brain in an argument. She felt guilty for going behind her best friend's back. To make it worse, Robin knew Steve really loved Y/N.

"So after all those months of kissing, sex, and late nights meant nothing?" Robin asked, her voice cracking as she tried to keep herself together.

"Of course it meant something. But mean enough to lose what I have with Steve? No."

"It's him no matter what?" Robin concluded

"It's easier to love him, Rob." Y/N sighed. "I want to be married and have kids. He can give me that, but you can't."

"Then what do we do?"

"End it," Y/N said

She was met with silence as Robin slammed the door on her way out.

~~~

Robin and Y/N kept their promise to not tell Steve and to only be friends.

Y/N had it easy, she had a boyfriend to distract her from the absence of Robin

Robin didn't get a break. If she hung out with Steve, all he talked about was Y/N and their relationship. But as his best friend, she listened. Even though listening to all the dates and how happy they made each other killed her slowly.

~~~

"I'm thinking of taking her on a road trip to the beach. Lay in the sand with my hot girlfriend next to me. What's better than that?" Steve gushed

Robin gave a fake smile as she worked on stocking the shelves. She cursed her heart for feeling the sting.

"Absolutely nothing," Robin said

~

"Steve!"

Robin turned as she heard the sound of Y/N's excited voice.

Y/N ran straight for the counter, pulling Steve in for a sweet kiss. Robin turned away, keeping her focus on random customers.

"Hi Robin," she said with a smile

Robin smiled back and gave a small wave.

Their friendship was awkward but they had to make it seem no different so Steve wasn't suspicious.

"Ready for the beach?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, Eddie is in the back clocking in so I'm set," Steve said

Y/N watched as he unbuttoned his vest and shoved it under the counter. His hairy chest peeked through his button-up. Y/N felt her face growing warm.

"I can't wait to see that body shirtless." Y/N teased, Steve winked and drew her in for a slow kiss.

Robin felt like the kiss went on for hours. Steve's hands on her waist and her arms wrapped around his body. Finally, they pulled away, a love-sick puppy look in their eyes as they headed off.

Everything about her made Robin bleed.

She knew she'd hear all about the beach date when she got off the clock.

She took a deep breath and let herself have a pity party up until he called. Then she put on her best friend's smile and answered the phone.

"Want to hear about our date?" Steve's excited voice rang through the phone. Robin picked at her nails as she closed her eyes.

Through clenched teeth and a broken heart, she said, "Tell me everything."

[lifeiskentastic]

Ken x gn!Reader as friends to lovers story

A/n: my first fic on tumblr… and hopefully not the last;) also english is my second language so if you notice a mistake please write to me about it, 'cause i'm just learning and this will help me a lot.

Summary: A real world reader finds a box of vinyl records in Ken's house, which leads to an unexpected turn of events.

Genre: fluff, comfort, friends to lovers;

Song played in fic: Biggest Part of Me by Ambrosia;

World count: 805 words;

Hope you enjoy!

***

"Ken, can I borrow this, please?"

You point to a small box in the corner of Ken's House (and yes, as it turns out, it does really exist), right by the entrance. Although it may look small at first glance, if you take the lid off, you'll be genuinely surprised at how much can this thing hold. How many music records can this thing hold.

"Mmm," Ken turned to you in confusion, distracted from the very important task of destroying all available books about patriarchy (only those that mentioned horses survived).

As soon as Ken realized what you were pointing at, he jumped up and ran over to you.

"Oh, this thing..." He exhaled heavily, as if he didn't know how to describe it: "I brought it from your world... I haven't figured out how to use it yet. But it was fun to play with it in Frisbee, though."

You had to hold back your giggles, knowing full well that the box contained not a Frisbee but rather vinyl records of 80s rock hits.

"Ken... Don't worry, I know what it is, and unfortunately, I wouldn't recommend playing with it."

Ken looks at you in confusion, waiting for an explanation.

"Then what does it do?" Now his face was full of curiosity.

"Oh, it's music." You bit your lip, already anticipating that wave of the cutest delight in the entire universe on Ken's face. "My favorite music, for real. What a coincidence!"

"Ah, so that means we can listen to these little flat wheels?"

As difficult as it was, you still controlled your laughter because you didn't want to hurt your friend's feelings.

"Huh... Yes, Ken, wait a minute, I'll play you something."

You had noticed beforehand that the box contained a modern vinyl record player. The only question was where Ken had gotten it from, but you decided to put that aside for later. There are more important things to do now. For example, the culturalization of the inhabitants of Barbieland for unselfish purposes (or one particular inhabitant of Barbieland for, to be honest, a little bit of selfish purposes)

You could feel Ken's intrigued look on your back as you conscientiously chose which song to start your immersion in the deep culture of the 80s. Of course, you chose the one you thought Ken would like the most. Of course, it was a love song.

As the playful melody began to play on the record player, you were very pleased with yourself. But Ken was still on edge. So you wisely decided to relax him a little.

When the first words of Biggest Part of Me by Ambrosia touched your ears, you gently led the surprised Ken into a dance, grabbing him around the waist with one hand and intertwining your palms with the other. He was a little confused, but he quickly realized what was going on and began to follow your movements. His puzzlement turned into a gentle, homely smile, and those two crystal blue eyes look that always gave you goosebumps.

"It's a nice song." He spoke calmly and quietly, though there was no need for that. "Make a wish, baby, and I will make it come true."

He began to sing along to the beat of dance, which suddenly gave him control of the situation.

"I finally found someone who believes in me." Ken kept staring at you, still smiling gently. "I need your love here, next to me."

It seemed as if with every turn in the dance, your faces were getting closer together. And when you felt that you were crossing the line between friendly dancing and something closer and more romantic, you had to stop it. But you didn't want to.

"You're the biggest part of me".

Immediately after these words, Ken stopped singing. He thought for a moment and then confidently proclaimed:

"Hmm, really," he raised his eyebrows as if he had come to some brilliant conclusion, "I really feel like you are the biggest part of me."

You had to swallow because something strange and incomprehensible was preventing the answer from coming out of your throat. However, when you felt your cheeks burning, you realized that this strange and incomprehensible feeling was embarrassment. A very unusual kind of embarrassment, the kind that you shouldn't normally feel towards a friend.

"M-m", You understood that Ken was waiting for your answer, so you gathered all your willpower into a fist and said, "I feel something similar, Ken."

Ken's smile grew bigger, and his joy radiated from him like rays from the sun.

"I'm, ah, glad to hear that... Does that mean we can continue dancing?"

You smile back. Ken was charging you with positivity just by being there.

"Of course, Ken, as much as you want!"

You were both ready for the next song.

Thanks for reading! I'd also love to hear your ideas for the next Barbie fic, so see ya.)

***

[f1nalboys]

Movie Night ; Randy Meeks

Randy Meeks x Fem!AFAB!Reader

haiiii guys :3 sorry ive been away for so long. im still not totally back, i had inspo for this after a convo me and tati had and i needed it OUT of my brain tbh!!! pls be gentle with me this is legit the first thing ive written in months JSGJBSGB anyways!!! i hope u all enjoy it take this as a silly kinktober kinda thing? idk <3 peace and love babies ily all

WORD COUNT: 1083

WARNINGS: smut, dark!randy and if you squint, ghostface!randy, handjob, implied fingering, slight dom!reader but it's switchy, randy gets jerked off to a slasher film, just kinda fucked up if you look at the implications of everything... not proofread bc im so lazy please be kind to me <3

The apartment was dark. Everything had been flicked off, even the overhead light of the oven that Randy always kept on so he could see in the middle of the night, leaving the TV as the only source of light in the entire apartment. On the slightly out of focus screen was a generic slasher from the late 80’s, one Randy had rented and seen a million times before, but he wasn’t focused on the screen. No, he was sitting there with his eyes closed and his head tilted back, his lips pink and swollen, your hand wrapped around his cock.

“Does that feel good, baby?” You purr into his ear, your other hand running through his hair. Your movements are slow, calculated, and Randy is barely able to swallow back a moan as he nods his head, his eyes still squeezed shut. He can feel the vibration of your chest and he flushes, knowing you were laughing at him. “Your favorite scene’s coming up, Ray,” you say, your hand stalling its movements at the base of his cock as you squeeze gently, drawing a sharp hiss from him. “Don’t wanna miss that, now do you?”

Randy shakes his head, swallowing heavily as he forces himself to open his eyes. His pants were shoved down his thighs just enough to pull his cock out and yet you were still fully clothed. He glances over at you and the large smile on your face and he squirms, breathing a little harder as he tries to talk to you. “You sure you don’t wanna ride me, baby?” He asks, giving you a small smile when you shake your head. “You’re such a tease.” He murmurs, moaning when your hand moves up slowly, your grip still tight.

“How am I a tease if I’m letting you cum?”

“Beacuse, fuck,” his head tips forwards before he swallows, looking back up. You were still curled into his side, pressed tight against him, and the movie had gotten to Randy’s favorite chase scene in the entire movie. He glances at you. “Because you’re using your hand.” 

“You seem to be enjoying my hand.”

“Oh, I am, don’t worry. I just know, mmf, fuck, I know that your tight pussy would feel so much better.”

You laugh, shaking your head as your movements speed up a little bit. You squeeze tighter around his tip, drawing a long moan from him. “You’re such a charmer, but you asked for this, remember?” You say, your lips just by his ear as you whisper. “Now, keep your fucking eyes on the screen or I stop completely, okay?”

Randy nods as he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes searching your face and, after deciding you were actually serious, turning to look at the TV. The final girls best friend was being chased all through her large house, the masked killer wielding his knife chasing after her. Randy swallows heavily as your hand begins to move faster, just a little bit, his heart beating in tune with it. 

“Fuck,” he moans as the killer slices at the girl who’s name he can’t even remember, her shirt getting cut off. It was cheesy and stupid, something Randy would normally roll his eyes at, but he knew what came next. His cock throbs under your palm, slick with your spit and his pre-cum, and he whimpers as you begin to swipe your thumb over the head of his cock with each pass of your hand. “Ke-keep going, please?”

His question is closer to a beg, but not quite there. His eyes roll into the back of his head for a second but he keeps them focused hazily on the screen. The girl was running slower, the house dark. Randy’s breathing picks up and his hand, which had been on your thigh, squeezes you tightly, his nails digging into your flesh. The girl was cornered now, the killer standing above her as she begs for him to stop, to leave her alone, to go away. She slinks down the wall, the killer looming tall, his mask and the knife the only discernible thing about him.

Randy’s hips twitch ever so slightly as the killer drags the blade down the girl's tear-streaked cheek, a thin line of blood bubbling up in its wake. He can’t help but replace the girl with you, imagining the fear in your eyes as he, masked and unknown to you just yet, hunts you down like an animal. “Holy shit, baby, fuck!” He grunts as the killer raises his knife and your hand speeds up, jerking him off as quick as you can. Randy’s hips thrust up into your hand as the knife is plunged into the screaming girl's chest.

He grunts, an almost animalistic sound, thrusting his cock into your hand in tune with the knife. He lets the pleasure overtake him, his cock the knife, your hand your body, and he cums, the only other sound besides his moans being the gurgle of life leaving the poor girl’s throat one final time before she slumps over. Randy lets his head tip backwards as he finishes cumming, your hand and his cock covered in cum. His hips stop moving and he sits there beside you, staring at the dark ceiling as he catches his breath.

“How was that?” You murmur. “Everything you thought it would be?” Tilting your head, you bring your hand to your mouth and lick away the cum that has covered your skin, a smug smile on your face. He looks over at you, his cheeks flushed pink, and he gives you a toothy grin, leaning in to kiss you. It’s a sweet kiss, one you always expected from Randy, with just a bit of heat underneath it.  “It was fucking amazing, Y/N.” He says against your lips, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. The kiss deepens for just a second before the noises of the movie draw his attention; it was the final chase scene, the bloody battle against good and evil.

When he pulls back his hand slides down your shoulder and arm down to your waist, his large hand tugging at the hem of your shirt. “Get this off,” His voice is gruffer as his hand slides down again, this time to your pants, your breath hitching in your throat at the feeling of his calloused fingertips dipping past your waistband. “And these. Let me repay the favor, final girl.”

[lostloveletters]

Sunday Eve (John Brady x OC)

Summary: On a freezing night blanketed with snow, John and Woody know how to keep each other warm.

Note: It’s been in the 80s here, so naturally I wrote a soft, smutty, post-war winter fic for them. I’m sorry if the formatting is weird, I’m posting this on mobile. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Period typical attitudes. Sexually explicit content involving vaginal sex (light breeding kink elements, but I wanted to mention it just in case). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

John privately wondered if his Californian sweetheart regretted moving to Upstate New York for him when he found her sitting next to the radio in their small living room, bundled up in not one, but two of his sweaters, with a quilt from his grandmother on her lap. Woody’s eyebrows furrowed as the newscaster announced more snow overnight. He figured she would be used to it by then. England was no stranger to snow.

But the way she reacted to their first snow day together brought the magic back into it. She threw her arms around him and pulled him back into bed when he told her the schools were closed, which meant he had the day off of work. They spent half the day in bed, the other half dancing around the apartment and drinking whiskey they’d gotten as an engagement present, all hopeful attempts to mitigate the heating bill while money was still a little tight.

After two days of scattered snowfall, she appeared baffled that it wasn't coming to an end for the foreseeable future. She knew to expect it. Saw firsthand the rush of people bringing their cars into the shop for snow tires and chains. She got the hang of it quickly. ‘You’d hardly know she was from Los Angeles,’ her boss, an old friend of his father’s, had told John after mass one particularly chilly October morning. ‘San Francisco,’ John reminded him, to which he received a shrug in response.

“Ready to head to bed?” John asked. “We’re meeting my mom for lunch after mass tomorrow morning.”

His family adored Woody, especially when she shared her intent to convert to Catholicism. He didn’t know how to feel when she confided later on she was doing it for him, rather than out of spiritual conviction, which he suspected, anyway. He never wanted her to feel as though he were forcing her to do anything. ‘It’ll make things easier for us,’ she assured him.

The part that bothered him just as much was that it did. His family suddenly weren’t making as much of a fuss about them living together. Probably assumed they wouldn’t push their beds together or keep condoms in the nightstand. The monsignor promised them a wedding mass in the spring, the most coveted time of year to celebrate the sacrament of holy matrimony—provided she completed catechism by then. She was on track to, so long as she kept showing up to mass.

“Will the roads even be cleared?” she asked.

He smiled. “We’re used to it here, sweetheart. You’d be surprised.”

She turned off the radio, getting up from the armchair and throwing the quilt over the back of it. He reached for her hand, taking it in his and pressing a kiss to her calloused palm.

Their bedroom was chilly when they slipped beneath the covers together after rushing through their respective nighttime routines, brushing teeth and changing into pajamas. In Woody’s case, taking off one of his two sweaters she’d requisitioned for herself, not having much of a winter wardrobe of her own.

Compared to the Stalags and freezing night marches, though, their drafty old apartment felt like heaven with the radiator buzzing and Woody in his arms. John dreamed about such a moment so many times, he needed to remind himself it was real. Pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, her hair soft and smooth against his lips. She trembled against him, breathing out a soft sigh.

“Sweetheart?”

“Keep me warm,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose against his cheek. “Please, Johnny?”

“We have to get up to go to mass tomorrow,” he gently reminded her.

Woody wanted him morning and night, and in between too, if he could manage it. Far from a complaint, but he was certain he was the only man in the world with such a dilemma as making sure to wake up early enough to sate his love’s desire before getting along with the day. When the topic came up among his coworkers or old college buddies, they grumbled with foreign tales of fiances and wives who feigned headaches or went to sleep early.

As soon as she shifted, better positioning herself to give him a kiss, he gave in. With little more than a glance his way or brush of their lips, she could silently transform her desires into his own, making him ache for it, too.

“Turn on a lamp,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I wanna see you, honey.”

And who was he to deny her? Nighttime could be formidable, but far less so with Woody around, ready to take on whatever haunted him with the determination that earned her the admiration of so many at Thorpe Abbotts. Didn’t care if it meant forgoing sleep or engaging in odd rituals when he needed a hand to reach out and bring him back from the depths. She dove in without hesitation.

So, within seconds of her request, the amber glow of his bedside lamp washed over them. She smiled, fondness and adoration in the gold-tinged forest of her eyes as she caressed his cheek, drawing him in for another heated kiss as he moved on top of her, straddling her hips, plusher and wider since they arrived stateside and received regular helpings of family cooking. Made it hard for him to keep his hands off of her even outside of their bedroom.

He reached down, slipping his hand down the waistband of her pajama pants and between her thighs—warm and wet, he easily slid two fingers inside her. He knew it wasn’t a sin. Not anymore. Not with her. It couldn’t be.

She moaned against his mouth when he rubbed her clit with his thumb. Rocked her hips for more friction.

“I want you inside me,” she said breathlessly, grabbing for his cock, tugging his pants down and croaking out a desperate, “please.”

He buried his length inside her, swallowing the groan that caught in his throat when he felt her pussy squeeze around his cock. Found a steady pace as she pulled him closer, pressing his body against hers, like she was trying to make him part of her.

She cried out for more as her eyelids fluttered shut. “John—oh my god—harder.”

“Look at me,” he demanded, echoing her earlier sentiments, “I wanna see you, sweetheart.”

She opened her eyes, bright and wild in a way that sent a delicious shiver down his spine. His fingers played with her clit, could feel how close she was. He thrust harder, rougher as her moans filled his ears, her voice hoarse as she came loudly, her pussy pulsing around his cock.

His hips shuddered. His brain felt fuzzy, almost lost himself before asking, “Where should I—“

“On my stomach.” She hastily bunched up her sweater just below her breasts, exposing it to him.

His blunt nails scratched gently against her bare stomach, soft and inviting. Tried not to think about it round and full with child, his child, one day when she wasn't so afraid. He recognized the uncertainty that flashed in her eyes whenever someone brought it up. ‘Not until you’re ready,’ he had promised with all the understanding he could manage despite the animal part of him trying to claw its way through. She’d look so pretty, so perfect. She’d be his wife soon, after all.

But it’d be worth the wait. She waited two years for him and didn’t waver. He’d do the same for her the world over. They belonged to each other.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out just before he came, his seed spilling onto her stomach as his orgasm rocked through him. Buried his face in the crook of her neck, her skin warm with a sheen of sweat. Made his mind hazy with the feel, the smell of her intertwining with pleasure until he was spent.

With a shaky breath and equally shaky hand, he reached over to his nightstand, grabbing a handkerchief to wipe his cum off of her stomach. Didn’t need to look at her face to know she was eyeing him like a bird of prey. He threw the soiled fabric aside and pulled down her sweater to cover her again.

She grabbed him by the collar before he could move back to his side of the bed, pressing soft kisses to his neck, the prelude to gentle bites on his collarbones and then lower, and even lower. He took a deep breath, mustering up all of the resolve he could to pull away from her.

“We have to get up early tomorrow,” he said, as sternly as he could manage.

A small pout made its way onto her lips before she relented with a slight smile. “Alright, honey.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”

He turned off the bedside lamp. “I love you too.”

Heat radiated off of her as she curled up against him. He stroked her hair, tongue between his teeth as he tried to fight off the urge to indulge her—and himself. She always took a while to fall asleep, even when he was convinced he tired her out.

Slowly, his hand drifted lower until he found the thick, cuffed hem of her sweater and slid his hand up it, playing with her breasts, rolling one of her nipples between his fingers.

A pleased hum came from her throat before she gently taunted him. “You just said—“

“You’ll make me extra coffee in the morning to make up for it.”

Her laughter tore through the darkness as he pulled her on top of him with a wicked grin.

——

John woke up before Woody. He almost always did. She could sleep until nearly noon if he let her, which he did sometimes. Usually, though, around ten in the morning, after already being up for a few hours on his own, he’d find himself missing her and coax her awake.

He rolled out of bed, pulling on his old flannel robe before the frigid morning air could bite him too hard. He nearly winced at the loss of body heat, sparing a longing glance to Woody, still curled up under the covers.

Shuffled over to the bedroom window and pulled back the thick curtain, something he had to put up when they realized how much of a draft it let in otherwise. All he could see outside was white. The whole block was covered in a thick blanket of fresh snow—including the roads. He sighed in relief, something he’d surely have to confess the following week.

John hurried back to Woody’s side, eager to relay the good news to her. “Hey,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “The roads haven’t been cleared yet.”

She smiled, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him back into bed. “Thank god.”

[digital-domain]

New Year’s Day

Mahito x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Synopsis: This particular holiday - it’s another one of those human concepts that he doesn’t quite get. And of course, he wants you to explain it. Out of all the questions he’s asked you, it’s certainly not the worst…right?

Content tags/warnings: kidnapped reader, forced relationship, implied noncon

A/N: a bit angsty, a bit philosophical, a bit dreadful. Because I cannot be normal about any holiday and neither can He

You’re lying on the concrete floor of the sewer, staring up at the ceiling. Hands layered under your head, providing just enough cushion to make your posture sustainable, if not necessarily comfortable. You’ve got a pile of blankets nearby, and yet at the moment, you prefer the floor. It’s something different, a hard, harsh sensation that nevertheless breaks up the oppressive same-ness of your surroundings. You’ve been here a long time, long enough that all sense of days and weeks passing has abandoned you. Staring at this same ceiling, these same walls. It’s quiet, too, except for the occasional drip of water. You barely even register that sound anymore, so accustomed have you become to your surroundings. You’ve counted every crack on the ceiling at one point or another, sung every song you remember in your head, silently recited snippets of conversations, old jokes - anything comforting. Anything to pass the time.

Right now, your mind is playing a lyric from a song whose title you don’t remember. Something from the early 80s, you think. It’s infuriating, in a very mild way, this incomplete memory, the way you can place the lyrics in time, but not in the song they’re from. You grapple with it for minutes on end, but you can’t seem to get beyond the few lines you remember, and the haunting string of melody between them. I will begin again. I will be with you again.

You’ve been experiencing frustration like this more and more often. You’re scraping the bottom of your memory, running out of new things with which to occupy yourself. And still - you’re still grateful for these times. The monotonous times. The moments when you can fix your eyes on a particular spot above you, and almost forget that you share this space with another. It’s strange, how these moments can stretch on for so long, and still seem not-long-enough once they come to an end. Even if it’s been hours, even if Mahito has been wrapped up in a book all afternoon - once he comes back to your side, the memory of those boring hours becomes fond, for a moment. Then, it seems to disappear, as if it were merely a mirage.

This particular reprieve is drawing to a close. Even now, you can hear the faint creak of him rising from his hammock, the fall of his feet upon the ground. You savor your last moments of isolation, tracing a crack in the ceiling with your eyes until, far too quickly, it’s obstructed by his hand waving an enthusiastic greeting - or perhaps, merely attempting to shake you from your trance.

He crouches down beside you, already reaching for your hand, and you quickly sit up. You prefer not to be lying down when he’s close. Of course, you know you’re equally vulnerable regardless of your position, but it makes you feel slightly - very slightly - better. Makes you feel like you have a bit more time before something inevitably goes wrong.

But it doesn’t last. He takes your shoulders, and eases you back down to the concrete. Tucks one of your hands carefully behind your head. Presses his palms to your knees until you give in, and straighten your legs. “I like this better,” he says simply. “I see you sitting up all the time. And standing, and curled up in a ball, and lying on your side…even lying on your back with your knees up, in the middle of all your blankets. But this doesn’t happen nearly as often. You kept pulling me out of my book this afternoon. The floor is hard. Not fun to lie on. But you still looked so…” he cocks his head, thinking through his next words. “Comfy! That’s what it is. You were even smiling for a while. I liked it.” He grins broadly, and takes your free hand. Squeezes. “And now I get to see it up close.”

You don’t smile. This doesn’t feel comfortable anymore. It feels exposed. It’s incredible, how quickly he can steal so much away from you. How he can make even the time you spend alone feel like his.

“I have a question,” he says, and you feel the pit in your stomach deepen. These conversations never end quickly. Especially not when he’s staring at you as intently as he is right now, eyes unblinking, a smile already playing at the corner of his lips.

You’ve been watching his face in silence for too long, apparently. With his free hand, he pokes you on the shoulder, the nail of his index finger carelessly stabbing you. Twice. “Cutie. Wake up.”

You release a long breath, doing your best to keep it steady. To not betray your discomfort. “What is it?”

“Celebrating the change from one year to another…why do humans do that?” His face hovers over yours, falling closer by the second, an almost suspicious expression written across his face. “You don’t celebrate the change from Saturday to Sunday, or November to December…so why does this one matter so much to you?”

Despite the precariousness of your situation, you can’t help but feel a slight bit of relief. As his questions go, this one isn’t bad. It’s not horrifically personal, or hinting at any sort of bloodshed. In fact, you’re sure that you’ve heard people ask similar things before. “I…never really thought about it.”

He jabs a finger at your brow. “Think! You’re a human…you can figure it out, if you try.”

“Well…” You could think better if his nose wasn’t brushing your face, but you don’t dare tell him that. “For one thing, it happens less often than a new week or a new month.”

“Hm.” His eyes slide upwards as he considers this, before landing once more upon your face, latching on a with renewed intensity. “Does that mean it matters more?”

“Maybe. But also, I think there’s something sort of…symbolic about it. It means something to people that months and weeks just don’t.”

He swells forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, leaving behind a splotch of saliva that you don’t dare wipe away. “See? You’re thinking! I knew you couldn’t do it. I can see those little gears turning in your head right now.” His grin is broad, eyes bright with curiosity. “What does it symbolize, then? What does it mean?”

It’s all you can do not to shut your eyes. All you can do to stop yourself from shuddering, from attempting to squirm out from underneath him. But this isn’t that hard of a question. You’ll answer it, and then he’ll be satisfied. Maybe he’ll even be happy enough to leave you alone for a bit longer. Although if he does…you won’t stay lying down. Not like this. You’ll probably never do it again, now that you know how it draws his eyes. “It means…a new start, for a lot of people.” He’s still staring at you, breathing shallowly against your cheek, waiting for more. You do your best. “Some people make New Year’s resolutions. Things they want to do in the new year that they didn’t last year. Exercising more, eating healthier, reading more books - that kind of thing. Not everyone sticks to them, but some do. For them, a new year is…a clean slate. A chance to do things differently than they did the year before.”

“Oh.” His grin slips a bit. As he thinks, his fingers tap absentmindedly against your shoulder, creeping slowly towards your neck. “So…it’s made up! The whole thing…you made it up, just to help yourselves feel better. To help yourselves change.”

“I mean…yes. In a way…”

He keeps speaking, as if he hasn’t registered the hesitance of your answer. “Humans do that a lot, don’t they? You take days, and decide that they’re special, because it makes you happy.”

You don’t like the fervor building up in his voice. The widening glow of his eyes. When he talks to you about humans, as if you’re merely something to be studied - it makes you feel like a specimen on the plate of a microscope. You try to remember the relative comfort of a few minutes ago, the song that was playing in your head moments before he crouched down beside you. But you can’t pull out the memory. With his face so close, you can barely even see the ceiling. He has this habit of taking up your entire field of vision, and the entire space between your ears. It’s suffocating.

You need him to stop talking. Need him to let you remember. Need to give him something new to ponder, just to buy yourself a few moments in your own head. A few seconds of your own time. “It’s made up…but for some people,” you manage, “it feels real. And thinking that it’s real…it helps them.”

He sighs, an almost melancholic sound that your body seems to echo as his finger traces up your neck, as his hand settles on your face, palming your cheek. “The lies you tell yourselves are beautiful, sometimes. But they’re still lies.” Slowly, inevitably, he lets himself fall on top you, the length of his body pinning your already motionless form to the floor. “You should understand that better than anyone.”

He’s looking up at you from your chest, and you press your head up from the floor to look back at him. You want to look up at the ceiling, to forget about him entirely, but right now, you know what a mistake that would be. Instead, you give in, and provide him the answer he’s looking for. “Why?”

“Because nothing changed for you,” he says simply. “You were here yesterday, and you were mine. And today - New Year’s Day - you’re still mine! And next year, too, and the year after that…for you, nothing is going to change. Ever.” He pulls himself along the length of your body, slithering up to draw his face even with yours. Aligning your mouths. Your eyes. “Don’t frown. It’s better this way. You’re free! No more silly little human lies for you.” He tugs at the corners of your mouth, pulling it up into a grotesque, unwilling smile. “That’s better!”

He kisses you, and his arms loop beneath your shoulders, holding you tight, fingernails digging through your shirt into the soft skin beneath. His hips press into yours, grinding slowly as you struggle to hold yourself still. His teeth sink into your bottom lip. And you think that despite what he’s said, there must be a part of you that still believes in your silly little lies. Because out of all the things that should be hurting you right now, all the thoughts you should be having - the only one you hear is: he didn’t tell me about New Year’s Eve.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Can you please write 80s Dave Mustaine can’t sleep because he’s thinking about fem reader, after not being able to sleep he jerks off to the thought of her, moaning her name over and over

A/n: I'm trying to post more but I just haven't felt like writing and I've been busy with school and stuff, my posts might be getting shorter so I apologize but I hope reading what I write is still enjoyable :3

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, if you think I missed something please let me know otherwise enjoy :3

Dave was lying in bed, tossing and turning because every position was uncomfortable, but it was more than that. He couldn’t get you out of his head. He just couldn’t.

It started clean but as the sky got darker so did his thoughts. He’d think about how pretty your face is, then it would drift to how pretty your face would look sucking him off. Drool and precum dripping down your chin, tears streaming down your puffy, red cheeks. Bruised lips taking his cock so well.

He’d think about an outfit you wore, then it would go to a skirt or dress you wore. He’d think about hiking it up and bending you over a table as you cried out for him. He wanted to feel you so bad, he didn’t care how he just needed it.

He rolled over again with a huff, seeing the clock he had on his bedside table and it read 4:34 am in big, bold, red letters. He groaned and rolled onto his back once more, closing his eyes in a desperate attempt to fall asleep but again all he saw was you, naked on all fours for him.

Dave smiled to himself and dug his hand under the waistband of his sweat to start palming himself through his underwear. Soft moans left him as he kept going with this thought of you begging for him, saying how much you liked it, praising him for anything and everything.

Every pump of his hand he pictured fucking into you. He imagined your walls fluttering around him when you got closer. When he got close was when his mind stopped processing everything so clearly and instead of having a set storyline he just thought of you covered in his cum while you touched yourself. A thin layer of sweat coating you as you called out for him.

Dave couldn’t keep himself quiet and started moaning out your name. “Fuck, feels so good, just like that, just like that~!” His eyes screwed shut as his hips bucked up into his hand, milking him for all his balls are worth.

His breathing was heavy and his heart was pounding. He turned his head over and saw the time staring back at him, 4:42 am. He groaned and reached for the phone, quickly punching in your number and waiting for you to pick up. He kept working on his cock, the first round not having been enough. Tears pricked his eyes and his voice was unsteady when you finally answered.

“Please, please I need help.” He whined.

[skinbeneaththeskull]

80s Dave??? I gotchu bro.

So it's either just before or after a show, Dave's got you laid out on a table, just pounding you to his hearts content. He has a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, even sticking his fingers down your throat to gag you. All while forcing you keep your eyes on him, him slapping/spanking you everytime you break eye contact.

im actually deranged for forced eye contact<3

AHUUUJII?!?!*@&>@>×>@&@>[@*@,,@*@

when Dave starts his first show of the tour, he's running backstage to meet girls who are just really groupies to him and the band. and of course you were lucky enough to be one of them.

he's picking who he wants, scanning his selection extremely well before landing his pick on... you. how exciting, getting to fuck the front man of your favorite band.

he takes you by the waist, leading you to his own room backstage.

"what's your name, sweetheart?"

he says while pushing you on a small table, kissing up your neck.

"mh! (you say ur name idk),"

"oh yeah? that's a pretty name for a gorgeous girl."

he moves his puffy lips to yours, slipping his tongue in while he's touching all over your body, only slowly though, to see how needy you would get.

you grabbed his hands, moving over to your plush thigh, the other under your shirt and on your tit. he takes the hint, squeezing your top and sneaking his hand under your skirt.

"god, wanna use you so bad. yknow that, princess?"

he pulls away, mumbling against your neck.

"hurry up thennnn," you whined. "thought you would've fucked me the moment you saw me, mustaine-" you giggled.

"didn't wanna make you uncomfortable,"

he huffed, looking up at you with lustfilled eyes.

"but now that i know you're such a slut, maybe i'll fuck you like one."

he shrugged, getting naked before you followed his lead. you were wearing all black lace underneath, immediately catching Dave's attention.

"what?" you laugh.

"nothin, just look good."

he clearly had a bulge in his pants, it growing more as it ached.

"shit! fuck-"

he groaned, immediately flipping you over on your stomach on the table, ass in the air before ripping your panties apart like some crazy animal.

"needa be inside you-"

he groaned, pulling you up by your hips as he slapped your ass harshly before groping the skin.

"hurry.." you whined.

he groaned before shoving his fingers inside of you, already feeling how wet you were for him.

"my sluts all wet already, huh?"

he chuckled, slapping your pussy which made you jump. he pulled himself out before he lined up with your pussy, shoving it deep inside.

"fuck- feels so good.. so warm."

you were already tightening up around him, him slapping your ass again.

"i haven't even moved yet, sweetheart. it's so big, isn't it? yeah, i know baby. taking all of it like a good little whore."

the mixture of praise and degration made you feel some type of way, him starting to thrust inside of you now.

you were already being so loud, trying to grip onto the table for support.

"mmh! D-Dave!"

you whine out, him getting faster and more sloppy.

he kept letting out long groans, gripping onto your hips as he went faster, using you for his own pleasure. your moans got louder, of course it turned him on, but he didn't need everyone to know you were having the time of your life with him.

"fuck- be quiet, slut."

he grunted before shoving his palm over your mouth, putting his free hand on your back so you would arch for him.

"good girl. my personal slut, ain't ya? might take you on the road with me."

he chuckled, slapping your ass again as you had your head down, the mirror infront of you not having your face in the reflection anymore.

"did i say you could put your head down? fucking look at me."

he shoved hiss fingers inside your mouth, pulling you up by your hair to force you to look at yourself in the mirror.

"yeah.. just like that. so fuckin' gorgeous."

you couldn't get enough of him, legs shaking as you sucked around his big, calloused fingers.

the table sounded like it was about to break by how fast the other was going. of course he didn't care though.

you kept tightening around his length, muffled moans escaping your lips.

"oh fuck- gonna make me cum, baby.."

he brought a hand down to grip onto your ass, him getting faster and more rough just to reach his own orgasm.

he pulled his hand away from your mouth so he could toy with your clit, trying to make you cum first.

"D- Da--"

and just like that, you came. it was so fast, making him laugh a little.

"awh.. cumming from a few rubs?"

he teased, pulling out of you and forcing you on the floor.

"stick your tongue out,"

he groaned, jerking himself off infront of your face, soon enough showering your face in his seed.

"fuck... look at you, so messy."

he smiled sideways, wiping his cum off your cheek and shoving his thumb into your mouth.

"cmon, shows about to start."

he got his clothes on and helped you too, noticing you were wobbling a little bit.

"I'll make a bigger slut out of you after."

he smirked, fixing his hair as the two of you walked out like nothing happened.

[thegreatestsandwich]

OMG! YOU ARE WRITTING FOR WEDNESDAY ADAMS? PLEASE DO THIS WITH XAVIER THORPE

“What are you doing?”

“Something terribly immoral and almost definitely illegal... Care to join me?”

Love you to the moon and to Saturn (Xavier Thorpe x f!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x f!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Xavier loves you way too much to deny you your midnight snacks

Warning: Fluff, just that, fluff

A/N: My baby

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

“Baby, what are you doing?” Xavier Thorpe was looking at you with amusement. You were hiding behind a bush, it was way past your curfew when he found you.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You grabbed his hand and dragged him to crouch next to you, Xavier was smiling as you were looking at the entrance. “So, what are you doing out here stupid?”

“Well,” He kept smiling, even after you hit his shoulder. “I was going back to my room, needed to paint, y’know?”

You didn’t listened as you pushed his head down when one of the teachers passed your bush, your hand quickly went to his mouth, trying to keep him quiet as he began laughing. “Stop it.” You hissed. “They’ll found us and we’ll be dead.”

His hand grabbed yours to take it off his mouth, not after softly kissing your palm. “I don’t think director Weems would kill us, babe.” He shrugged. “Maybe detention for eternity.”

“Don’t call me babe.” You huffed. “I imagine a giant humanoid fetus and it’s weird.”

Xavier stared at you. “Your mind is so weird.”

“Thanks, now goodnight, text me when you arrive to your room.” You hugged him and sprint to another bush.

Xavier couldn’t help but sighed, standing up and walking calmly to you, crouching at your side. “I’ll ask again bab…” You glared at him. “baby, what are you doing?”

“Something terribly immoral and almost definitely illegal... Care to join me?” You offered your hand and he took it without even thinking about it, linking your fingers together but he kept staring at you like you were crazy.

“Does it involve drugs?” He asked you amusedly. “Because I’m totally in if you split the profits 20-80, me having the most of it obviously.”

You gasped completely offended. “First, this is not about drugs, this town is too boring for that and second, why in the world would I give you the most of my profits if I’m doing most of the work?”

Xavier shrugged, “Because you love me and want to keep me happy and satisfy?”

“You are an idiot, I regret saying yes to this relationship.” You tugged him to the gates and tried to shake off your hand from him but he began huffing and throwing a tantrum. You sighed. “I’m just opening the gate, big baby, now give me my hand.”

“Lies.” He said but still let go of your hand. “Hey, you call me baby, this is a huge step in this relationship, y’know?”

You rolled your eyes, as you placed your hand over the lock, trying to concentrate into unlocking it. You heard a small click and smiled, pushing the gates open. Xavier grabbed your hand again and intertwined your fingers.

“Where to boss?” He began walking, not really knowing where you were heading.

“Not telling you yet, you will judge me.”

“Baby, I could never judge you, never you.” He smiled, trying to kiss your cheek but you moving away. “I’ll judge you when I’m on my own so you can’t hear it.”

“Ass.”

“Love you more, sweetheart.”

“So you are telling me,” Xavier began, watching emotionless at the store in front of him. “That you went into so much trouble, hid behind several bushes, used your powers on the school’s lock, drag me all the way to the town so you could go into the store and buy a ramen?”

“Yes.” You happily stated as you dragged him inside. “Well, not really, I brought you so you could buy me the ramen.”

“Unbelievable, so all your love is fake and you are dating me for my money?”

“Yes, now c’mon I’m hungry, whoever decided to offer salads for dinner will burn in hell.” You dragged him inside. Xavier threw his head backwards and groaned as you didn’t let go of his hand as you stared at the several packets of ramen. “Which one?” You asked him.

“You’re the one who wanted ramen, why should I know?” He looked at you emotionless.

“See the way you threat me?” You grabbed a pack of ramen and examinate it before shaking your head and returning it, grabbing another one and repeating the action. “Horrible, I’m seriously considering breaking up with you.”

“Because of ramen.” He stared at you amusedly. “You would break up with me because of ramen.”

You hummed, frowning when you read the ingredients of what appeared to be a tuna-mayo ramen. Why? “Yep, a good boyfriend would choose the correct pack of ramen for their girlfriend.”

“So now I’m a horrible boyfriend?” He huffed, walking behind you and hugging you, placing his chin on your shoulder. To others, the image was really funny as he needed to bend a little to be able to do this. “I should sue you for emotional damage.”

“Cool,” You put another packet back. “Which one sounds more delicious, spicy seafood, hot chicken carbonara, hot curry with chicken or nuclear hot chicken 2x spicy?” You asked him, turning slightly to look at him, he was frowning completely disturbed at every single option. You couldn’t help it and kissed his cheek.

“All of them sounded awful, why can’t you choose a normal one? Like chicken, meat or shrimp?”

“Because I’m not a pussy.” You retorted. “Now choose one, we are sharing.”

“Neither.” He pouted.

“Nuclear hot chicken 2x spicy it is.” You grabbed the packet, smiling happily at how disgusted he looked. “It’ll be fun, I promise. Now c’mon, you are paying.”

“Wait, no.” He stopped you. “You are not eating that without any milk, go grab a bottle of chocolate one.” You stared at him, ready to say no. “Nope, not hearing it, that thing will kill your stomach, now go, also grab a few ice cream bars.”

“You are overreacting, y’know?” But you went anyway and he followed you as he was hugging your neck from behind. “This can’t be that spicy, it’s just the marketing and the extreme color of the plastic bag.”

Xavier scoffed, finally detaching himself from you, walking towards the other side of the store. “I’m grabbing a few sandwiches and those funny triangle rice thingys.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Xavier stared at you as you carefully walked with a huge plate with ramen, two sets of forks on your hand. He was sitting on the ground, his back resting next to his bed. For some reason, you wanted now to have an almost midnight picnic on his room. And he was too whipped for you to deny it.

“Eat the ice cream bar first, prepare you stomach and shit.” He handed you one of the bars as you sat down next to him, placing the plate on the floor and kissing his cheek, he smiled and gave you a proper kiss on your lips. “You will die if you don’t do it.”

“The point of this ramen is to suffer and beg for death after eating it.” You took the bar anyway, opening it and taking a bite of it. Xavier grabbing your hand and dragging it to his face so he could bite it as well. “We should like experience it.”

“Masochist.” He told you before frowning at the ramen, “It’s way dark, are you sure you prepare it correctly?”

“The marketing is shit.” You grabbed the plate after finishing the bar, you smelled it and frowned. “Doesn’t smell good.”

“I’m not eating that.” He crossed his arms. “I’m really happy with my life now to die.”

“Oh yeah?” You smiled cheekily. “Because I’m the sunshine that illuminates your days?”

He hummed, grabbing a fork and twisting the ramen on it. “Obviously, my love for you burns with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns.”

You stared at him. “Did you just…?”

“Quote the greatest love line of the whole world?” It was his turn to smile, wiggling his brows playfully “Fuck yeah I did.”

“You are so corny.” You grabbed your fork, doing the same thing that Xavier. “I’m seriously doubting my mental capability of taking good decisions.”

“Well, you make me this way baby, so it’s your fault.”

“Yeah, yeah, ready?” You raised your fork full of ramen, Xavier doing the same, bumping yours on the way, you quickly put it on your mouth, him doing the same…

Both of you spat it out, coughing wildly. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Xavier exclaimed, quickly grabbing a bottle of milk. “Threw that shit out of my room!”

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Your eyes began tearing up. “Why did you let me buy this?!”

[illfoandillfie]

Late 80s Roger x Reader making love (a bit kinky if you want, anything really, just something sexy and cute) and having to keep it quiet bc of their kids.

Blurb Advent 2023: Day 7

Ahhh thanks anon this is a great prompt! Hope you like it for day 7 of the advent calendar!

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), implied p in v sex, implied unprotected sex

Neither your or Roger had ever been anniversary people. You had friends who were. They made big deals celebrating it at expensive restaurants or big parties and got each other gifts corresponding to how many years they’d been together. But neither of you had ever been like that. It wasn’t that you didn’t care or didn’t want to acknowledge the date, you just didn’t need to make a fuss. You kept things low key. Half the time Roger was away on tour anyway so there was no point making a big deal of it. It’d just lead to both of you feeling bad you couldn’t celebrate it together. When he was in town you might have dinner out or buy a bottle of champagne to accompany whatever you ate at home. Or sometimes you just counted it as celebrated if you got to have sex. Especially since the kids had come along. You used to try to make the sex different to normal in some way – a position you’d read about and wanted to try, and act normally reserved for special occasions – but you hadn’t even bothered with that recently.  

Admittedly, it was easier to have some alone time now they were all a little older, but still, three kids under the age of seven did not an especially active sex life make. Mostly it happened very late at night, right before you went to sleep. You were almost counting the days until your youngest would be at pre-school so you could manage a day at home with Roger, even if you had to take sick leave to do it. The kids were all generally sleeping through the night, but you did still have to contend with them sometimes stumbling into your room after a bad dream or a wet bed. More than once they’d managed to interrupt you at inopportune moments. So, when you realised your anniversary was coming up, you decided your present to both Roger and yourself should be a decent shag. One where you could actually finish without stopping first. Where you wouldn’t have to throw a robe on and show your daughter there was no monster in her closet and then stay with her till she fell asleep while Roger’s hardon deflated back in your room. Of course, Roger was in very strong agreement when you mentioned your idea, and during the lead up made sure you knew how much he wanted it with little squeezes and comments that made you blush muttered quietly to you while the kids were distracted. Which just made you more determined to have a good night. You considered palming the kids off their grandparents for the night but your parents weren’t free and Roger’s lived just a little far away for it to be worth the trouble. But hiring a babysitter would mean also getting a hotel room and eventually you agreed to make it work at home, you’d just make sure not to get too loud.  

The key, Roger confidently assured you, was making sure all three kids were completely worn out before you tucked them in. Bad dreams were the biggest risk but there wasn’t a whole lot you could do to prevent that. You just made sure the night light in the girls’ room was working and hoped it would be enough. But Roger took charge of exhausting the three of them – instigating tickle wars, playing whatever silly games they came up with, and then, when he wanted to sit down, coming up with objects for them to search the house for like some sort of scavenger hunt. When they were all looking sleepy you herded them off to do their teeth and get them settled. Roger read to the younger two in their shared room while you got the eldest settled with a warm milk that sent him to sleep quick. You hurried back to your room and stripped down to your knickers to save some time, settling on the bed, impatiently waiting for Rog. Almost absentmindedly you began touching yourself through your panties, but you figured things would go a lot smoother if you were even just a little bit ready by the time Roger was finished with the girls.  

He entered about 10 minutes later, pulling his fly down as he walked, pausing only to drag a chair under the doorknob just in case. If one of the kids did try to come in you’d get up but you didn't have to worry about being barged in on.   “You ready?” he asked, throwing his shirt across the room, “Because this is it, this is our shot.”  You giggled, trying to stifle the sound with your hand, “shhh Rog, we have to be quiet. If we wake them we’re screwed in the not fun way.”  “Well the girls were practically snoring before I got through the third page of Clive Eats Alligators so I think we’re good but sure,” He held his finger to his lips, somehow making the action feel sarcastic.   “Oh shut up,” you laughed settling back against the pillows and opening your legs more.   Roger took one look at your parted thighs and hastily kicked off his underwear, crawling toward you on the mattress.   You giggled again as he hovered over you for a kiss but too soon he moved away again, settling himself between your legs.   “Oh, okay really?” you asked, surprised as he kissed the front of your knickers, “Thought we were just going straight for the main event. Been touching myself to get ready.”   “I could tell and the wet spot made me want to taste you. So just stay quiet and let me.”  You squeaked a little as he licked over the wet patch, earning a little nip on your thigh before he pulled your underwear off and pressed his lips to your cunt.  

It had been a little while since you’d last managed any sort of oral but the way Roger so enthusiastically went about it made it seem like he’d been denied your pussy for years. Which made it all the more difficult to keep your pleasure to yourself. Small moans and whines escaped your throat every so often and, despite how hard you tried to keep them quiet, Roger seemed to enjoy telling you off for the smallest whimper. He’d hum in warning which would inevitably make you more inclined to moan again. He’d catch even the softest sounds, giving you little bites as punishment. You tried to deter his teasing by smothering your whines with your arm, something that clearly amused Roger and only seemed to encourage him. His attention on your clit became even more focused, until he drew another string of sounds from you.   “Do I need to stop?” He asked playfully, though it was hard for you to recognise the joke when you were so worked up.   “Please don’t. So close,” you managed to get out as Roger returned his tongue to your slit.   “Good,” he said against you, “Want to get you off like this.”   He made it hard for you to keep quiet, all his focus on your cunt until you gasped, a hand tightening in his hair as you came. That’s when it was Roger’s turn to moan, though he muffled himself easier than you managed.  

The shifting of the bed brought you back to the moment. Before you knew it, Roger was easing himself into you, biting his own lip at the feeling. After a few inches, he distracted himself by leaning forward and kissing you, stealing what little breath you had, groaning against your lips as you tightened around him at the slight change of angle. Slowly he sank deeper, filling you inch by inch. You grabbed his arse, encouraging him to go faster, and he grunted into your neck at your eagerness.   “I’m trying to be gentle, love.”  “Just fuck me, Rog.”  He chuckled at that and kissed you again and he let the last few inches of his shaft be swallowed by your cunt.   “Better,” you moaned.   “Alright, gonna start moving,” he grunted in warning.  The bed creaked as Roger moved but he didn’t find it as funny when you told him to keep it down.   “Do you want to be fucked or not?” he grumbled, giving another tentative thrust, making the bed creak again. Your laugh was cut short by a gasp at the way it felt as he moved within you. 

For a little while you both lost yourself in the sensations, ignoring the creaking as you chased your highs. And then you heard a cough from somewhere down the hallway.   Roger stilled instantly, and you bit back a whine at the abrupt end to the stimulation.   You both listened for more noise – small footsteps, a cry for one of you, the jiggling of your doorknob. There was a squeak from a different bed and you willed it to be nothing more than it’s tiny occupant rolling over.  “Swear they have some sort of sixth sense for when we’re trying to fuck,” Roger breathed out, “You think that’s it?”  You shushed him and strained to hear more but everything was quiet again, “Yeah, false alarm.”  Roger sighed against your throat, “If I didn’t love your pussy so much I’d regret spending so long going down on you.”  You batted his shoulder, “Just hurry up before one of them wakes for real. Want to feel you cum in me.”  Roger was laughing softly as he kissed you, only to eager to do as you asked.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

omgg could you maybe do a part 2 to the dance moms!bill with headcannon’s about how he would react if his daughter got given a really ugly costume last minute at a competition and he felt like she was being treated unfairly compared to the other dancers?? kinda like that episode in season 1 where paige tried on her costume a few minutes before she went on stage and it was ugly/didn’t fit her which caused her mum to get in a big fight with abby about it

(I absolutely love dance moms so of course! Enjoy and poor Paige, loved her but how she was treated was not okay)

Dance Mom!Bill Kaulitz

Oh hell no

Bill as we all know it is sometimes very dramatic

And we love him for it

But that also stretches out for the treatment of you

He gave you the best possible treatment ever

He got you the best schooling he can, he treated you well, you were his daughter

He gave you anything and everything

So that included getting you the best dance schooling as he could

Teachers, choreographers, outfits, competitions and everything was in the palm of his hand to give you to

So to find out you were given an ugly fucking costume with all the money he's paid and time he's spent?

Bill will raise hell

He wants you to feel pretty, beautiful and absolutely confident

So to see that costume and how you felt and looked in it broke his heart

He absolutely cannot stand it

It wasn't even a second after you took it out he was suspicious

He thought it was just how it looked off of you but when you put it on he got mad

Immediately talking to your teacher and asking what the hell that was

And you were not going on stage to be purposely humiliated like that

Especially if they did it on purpose

He did not care

He would find you a different costume, he would put one together or he probably kept a spare on hand that you loved

He hates that you were treated unfairly

He went though that stuff when he was a kid and he would be damned if his own kid experienced that

So of course he's pissed that others are being put before you

He wants everyone treated fairly

So to see that you were not being treated fairly made him upset

After you put on a different one and competed he was proud of you

He always was but seeing how your talent shine through even through that made him happy

Be sure that he got you a different teacher at a different studio after that

An even better one at that

Cause he will not stand for it

He definitely wanted to your uncle's about it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @bunnysenpai31 @banshailey @bellastoner420 @victryzvv9 @stxngnr @killed-kiss @stilesandjames @m00nzyblogs @sylisan @lyzit @trixiekaulitz @laylasbunbunny @5hyslv7 @limaswife

[fluffyf0x]

꧁༒☬𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓛𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 ☬༒꧂

Akaashi Keiji x f!Reader

In which you discover a curious app in your email. It claims to be able to find your perfect match.

However, you don't know who this guy is.

At the same time, your oh so sweet rival is more annoying than ever.

Link to series navigation list(+songlist) here

꧁༒☬𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓞𝓷𝓮☬༒꧂

▟▛▜▟▛▜▟▛ 🄻🄾🄰🄳🄸🄽🄶 ▟▛▜▟▛▜▟▛

██ 20%

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██████ 100%

ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!

Welcome to Love Letters!

To continue, please sign in….

Name: …. y/n l/n

Password: ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

▟▛▜▟▛▜▟▛ 🄻🄾🄰🄳🄸🄽🄶 ▟▛▜▟▛▜▟▛

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍!

Searching for your perfect match!

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡... ⋙

𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑!

⋘ ᴛʀʏ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ... ⋙

Y/n almost threw her phone. Seriously? Even here she didn't have any chance when it came to love? God forbid she even falls in love!

Y/n huffed, placing her phone on her lap as she leaned back on the hot wood of the bench she was sitting on. The ice popsicle that was on her hand was starting to melt. The shade of the tree kept her cool under the blazing sun.

Y/n watched the couples that were walking around the campus. Laughing, holding hands, being tooth rotting sweet to each other. Her eyes followed several different couples as she sat alone on the bench, only a strawberry ice popsicle in hand and nothing else.

Y/n glanced back at her phone. Looking at the “Try Later” text that was plastered on the screen. She had received a curious email that promoted finding their true love through an app called- Love Letters. The email included her name on it and a password she was supposed to use on the app. Y/n ignored it at first. Thinking it was another stupid dating app.

Y/n had a few reasons why she even considered, and later ended up downloading, this odd application.

Reason number 1: Her friend found her supposedly ‘true love’ thanks to this app. She was so enthusiastic about it she was ringing Y/n’s phone day and night. Giggling and kicking her feet every time she interacted with her pair, who was now his boyfriend.

Reason number 2: It’s become quite popular with high school students. For some reason, It was only high school students who bothered with it or even had the app. Y/n expected that it would be popular even with university students and adults. However, it was just high school students who had it.

Reason number 3: Y/n was utterly, pitifully single.

Staring at the same screen again, she exited the application and threw away the popsicle stick that remained from what previously was, an ice pop. Y/n stood up, leaving the nice cool spot from the bench to walk to her next class. Even though she had a remaining 15 minutes to her break time, her class was on the other side of the campus. And the campus was huge.

Y/n had heard rumors and stories that the school was originally a mansion of a wealthy family a century ago. Others say that it was a university, which Y/n thought would be impossible because you definitely get more money from a university rather than a high school. The school was known to house hundreds upon hundreds of students. Almost everyone went to this specific school. Too many people went here. It almost sickened Y/n with the sheer amount of people. How does the faculty even manage that?

A good side to this school, it had amazing views and architecture. The garden was well managed and utterly stunning. Y/n could spend the rest of her days in the garden if she didn’t have any classes where her attendance was an absolute must. As she arrived at her class, there were a couple of minutes left before the session started. The loud chatter from her classmates seemed to fall deaf to her ears when she noticed a man taking the seat next to her. Her eyes glanced to the side to check who it is, despite fully knowing the identity of the person.

“Rather than giving me a side eye, a simple ‘hi, hello, how are you?’ would be nice, you know?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and scoffed, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. “Useless chatter would be impossible with you, Akaashi Keiji. Since you always like to talk so smart”

A soft laugh erupted from the man, as if mocking her. “Right, as if you don’t do the same every single time”

The conversation between the two was cut short by their teacher entering the class. There was a quick greeting led by Akaashi before the class session officially started.

Y/n seemed to be exasperated everytime she was with Akaashi. She always ended up arguing with him, might it be over simple matters or even on important decisions. There was barely ever a time they would agree on something without a constant debate. Tiring and energy consuming. But boy, do they work well together once they’ve finally reached an agreeing conclusion.

“Ah right, speaking of which, we have homeroom later at 3. We need to decide who’s our representative for the school sportsfest.” The teacher advised. Y/n seemed to notice that the entire class's gaze seemed to be directed at one table.

Y/n felt like she would like to be buried 6 feet under.

The man beside her sighed. He leaned back on his seat as his eyes narrowed.

“Are you all suggesting the class has Y/n and I be selected as the sportsfest rep, again?” Akaashi massaged his temples. He didn't seem pleased about the entire ordeal. The entire class was awfully silent.

“Akaashi I think we should expect this….” Y/n said, trying to lighten the mood.

Akaashi scoffed. “I don't mind being sportsfest rep, I mind being the representative with you”

Y/n glared in response. Her eyebrows furrowed. Their advisor sighed.

“Two of you, cut it out. We'll decide later.” Their advisor quickly dismissed the class, not wanting to deal with another argument between his students. Students quickly fled the class, hurriedly moving to their next class. Akaashi took a quick glance at y/n before leaving. Letting Y/n be alone to her own to be buried in her own thoughts.

—

As lunchtime rolled around, Y/n found herself in the cafeteria, surrounded by her friends, and ultimately, Akaashi Keiji…again.

Bokuto Kotaro, a good friend of both Akaashi Keiji and Y/n L/n. He was huge, even compared to Akaashi, who was already tall and lean. However, no matter how huge or scary he can sometimes look, he’s just a big kid at heart.

So sometimes he feels like a child of divorce every time it's only the three of them.

Bokuto found himself leaning closer and closer into the table like a small ball. His eyes glanced back and forth between the Y/n and Akaashi who were seated beside him. No words were spoken, the silence was deafening even with the constant chatter in the cafeteria. The two didn’t even look at each other.

“Did you two fight again today?” Bokuto whispered, barely audible to the two. Y/n shook her head, patting the man in the back.

“Nothing too important Ko,”

“What's going on here?” A voice pierced through the cold, awkward tension. Bokuto looked over to his savior.

With his usual judging gaze, tall stature, signature white mask and a food tray in hand, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Bokuto felt that the heavens have blessed him.

Sakusa raised a brow at Y/n and Akaashi, noting that the two were in an incredibly sour mood. He shook his head and sighed, taking the seat next to Akaashi. Not soon after, another man decided to join the table.

“Sheesh, I could feel the tension from a mile away”

“‘Tsumu shut up” Y/n was first to reply to him. Miya Osamu, rolled his eyes at his brother. Sitting next to Sakusa and started eagerly munching on his onigiri. The blonde simply shrugged and sat next to the woman. “Where's Yachi and Hinata?” She asked.

“Im here!” Yachi smiled sweetly. Hinata followed soon after. Rambling and grumbling about how Atsumu left Yachi and Hinata. Atsumu argued he would be blocking the way.

“Excuses” Hinata retorted.

Yachi eyed the seat that was next to Y/n, unfortunately occupied by Atsumu Miya.

Atsumu sighed. “Okay okay, I'll move”

Yachi seemed happy, giddily sitting on the seat next to her best friend. Y/n smiled widely too. Y/n bit her lip, unsure if she should bring up the fact that she gave in to the bandwagon and tried the app in her email. Somehow, Yachi beat her to it.

“Oh! Y/n! Have you tried the app yet?” She asked. Y/n stiffened. Should she tell the truth? Or should she lie her way out of this and save her face from the embarrassment that, yes she has tried it, and no, there was no match.

“App? You mean the Love Letters app that’s popular lately?” Atsumu asked. Hinata’s eyes lit up.

“Oh yeah! That one! I actually got an email and tried it too! Funny enough, my match was Kageyama.” He scrunched his nose at the mention of Kageyama. The table seemed to hold their breath. “Would never date him though” Everyone groaned.

“I don’t see what’s all the hype with it though? Just say you can’t get a girlfriend” Osamu played with his chopsticks. He shrugged. “But whatever”

Y/n mirrored Osamu’s actions. Slumping her shoulders as she fiddled with her spoon. Yachi quietly and patiently waited for Y/n’s response. In which the latter girl sighed. “Yeah, I tried the app” She mumbled, quiet, yet audible to the people at the table. Osamu dropped his chopsticks.

“YOU ACTUALLY?” Atsumu screamed, standing up and slamming the table. The cafeteria quietened for a moment, as everyone glanced over to their table. Sakusa glared at the man, who was starting to feel the embarrassment creep to his face. He sat down awkwardly, giving a quiet ‘sorry’ to everyone else in the cafeteria.

Sakusa shook his head and sighed. Bokuto spoke up. “You actually tried that app Y/n? You don’t seem like that type of person though” He said, mouth full of food. Akaashi looked at Bokuto in contempt, but didn’t say anything.

“I dunno, I just tried it…” Y/n started to lose interest at her food, but was still mindlessly picking on it.

“Well? After you log in you’re supposed to get a match within a couple minutes.” Yachi pointed out. Y/n tried to avoid eye contact.

“I didn’t get…a match”

The table fell silent.

Y/n swiftly stood up, Taking her tray as her ears turned red. “Not that it even matters-”

“So what? It’s just an app. You don't actually think that you're forever doomed to a pitiful love life if that happened?”

Everyone looked over to Akaashi, who simply continued eating. The man glanced over to Y/n.

“I didn't take you to be stupid L/n”

Y/n gripped the food tray. “Are you picking a fight again Akaashi?”

There was a brief look of surprise, but Y/n ignored it. Bokuto stood up, patting Y/n's shoulder in an attempt to prevent a fight.

“guys come on!” Bokuto pleaded. Y/N huffed. Turning away as she hurriedly left the table. Sakusa sighed, standing up and taking his tray.

“I'll go after her.”

—

Y/n sat on the same bench she was this morning. She didn't feel sad- or embarrassed. She felt more annoyed. Utterly pissed, furious, enraged, vexed. All the synonyms you could find in the dictionary. Miriam Webster thesaurus would be real helpful. Y/n groaned, leaning back and letting her arms fall to her sides.

A carton of milk was suddenly being offered to her. Her eyes trailed up to see Sakusa holding the milk on one hand, and a bottle of soda in the other.

“You don't like soda, went with milk but I didn't know which flavor you liked” He said. Y/n wordlessly took the milk. Sakusa sat beside her. He cracked the soda can open and took a sip.

“Why do you always argue with Akaashi? There was never a day the two of you went along with each other.” Sakusa took another sip. “Unless the two of you already agreed on one thing after an hour of arguing.”

Y/n sighed. Sipping on her milk. “I genuinely don't know. We just- can't get along properly. It's annoying”

The two of them stayed silent for a moment. Y/n could feel the heat of the sun on her shoes and legs. There was a soft blow of the wind. Her hair followed with it. Y/n tucked her hair behind her ear so it won't flow into her face.

Y/n's phone buzzed. Her screen lit up. Showing a notification on her homescreen

▀▄▀▄▀▄🅈🄾🅄🅁 🄿🄴🅁🄵🄴🄲🅃 🄼🄰🅃🄲🄷 🄷🄰🅂 🄱🄴🄴🄽 🄵🄾🅄🄽🄳!▀▄▀▄▀▄

Y/n widened her eyes. She quickly showed the notification message to Sakusa, who's eyes also widened in response.

Y/n stifled a laugh. Unlocking her phone and opening the app.

*Congratulations! Please select a username before you can finally meet your match*

Sakusa leaned in a bit, trying to get a good view of Yns's phone. The girl fiddled with the case of her phone, biting her inner lip. She softly tapped at her screen upon coming up with a nickname.

Sakusa raised a brow. “‘schoolgirl78’? You're not serious are you?” Y/n giggled, shaking her head.

“I can't think of anything, and no, I'm not serious.” Y/n watched patiently at the loading screen. Which soon switched into an image of a closed letter addressed to her. Tapping on the letter, it opened and revealed a letter.

Sakusa tapped her wrist. “Read it out loud, I wanna know what he said too…or she” Y/n glared at him. Tilting her phone away from his view. Sakusa clicked his tongue.

“Just tell me gosh, do you always have to be difficult?”

Y/n rolled her eyes as she sighed. “Fine Fine. I'll read it”

Y/n cleared her throat. Tapping on the folded letter once more.

“Hey.”

The two of them stared at the phone screen in silence.

“...That's it?” Sakusa hesitated. Y/n tried to scroll and tapped on her screen, hoping there was something else written and that really wasn't all that was sent to her.

Sakusa shook his head. “Try sending a letter back?” He suggested.

Y/n nodded her head, tapping on the “send a letter” button. She quickly wrote up a greeting letter. Excluding a couple details like her name, age and school.

After sending, Y/n received a popup.

“The hell?” Y/n exclaimed, furrowing her eyebrow together.

“What? why?”

“You can only send and receive one letter every three days” Y/n read aloud the notification. Sakusa narrowed his eyes.

“That's a shitty app. Might as well just use an actual dating app” He said.

Y/n groaned. “If he seriously messages like this, it's gonna take forever for me to figure out who he is.”

Sakusa twirled with his soda can before taking another sip from it. “Unless he says it on the next message”

“He won't do that, if he received my message he might withhold telling me his name since I didn’t. Unless he's stupid.” Y/n said, looking through the settings of the app, in hopes of trying to look for a way to change the duration of receiving and sending letters.

“In which, you wouldn't like him. You hate men like that”

“Exactly”

Y/n let out an exasperated sigh. Aggressively shutting off her phone and putting it on top of her lap. She took her milk and finished it in one go. Sakusa sighed.

Misery, Utter misery.

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