#and obviously just. staring off into space like an IDIOT

[bulbabutt]

giving your own iteration of the ninja turtles a mental illness is fun but watch out! you might be self diagnosing!

[starr666]

Steamy Springs in the Savanna

Hehehe guess who got the Sunset Savannah event in English and can’t stop thinking of Leona’s slutty ass waist??

Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader

minors dni

by scrolling below this line, you are consenting to reading nsfw content

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It was hours after the Bead Brawl. Leona called for another feast to be had to bring in their victory…despite how it had been achieved. Everyone was absolutely exhausted after everything leading up to and during the brawl and went to bed quite early. All except for the lion himself. He sat in the common area of the hotel after having been fussed out by Neji for the stunt he pulled and you hid behind the wall, listening in. After Neji had left the area and gave you a solemn nod, you stood there…conflicted on whether or not to go back to your room or talk to the obviously irritated beastman. Before you get the chance to make the decision for yourself…

“I smell you, herbivore. C’mere.”

Startled but obedient, you walk over to the couch where the lion was sprawled out on. You stood at the armrest where his feet lay and he leans his head down to get a look at you

“If ya can’t sleep, I’m goin’ to the springs again. Wanna be able to enjoy it without the rowdy children before we go back.”

You simply nod, thinking he was just informing you of where he would be and he rolls his eyes at your simple response

“That was an invitation, herbie. S’long as you’re quiet, I won’t mind the company. Better make a quick decision before one of those idiots wake up or I retract the invitation.”

“O-oh…” You quickly change into attire more suitable for the springs and hop in his truck. The ride was silent and you caught him occasionally looking over the area of the kingdom , a reminiscent look in his eye that you took note of but kept quiet about.

He leads you through a secret entrance to be used by royalty and their guests when the rest of Ivory Springs is closed for the night. You find yourself in awe of the glimmering fairy like lights that light the bath of the springs. By the time you finish silently admiring the area, Leona is already in the water, his head leaning back and eyes closed…”Did he fall asleep already?”you begin to wonder before his eyes shoot open.

“You comin’ in or what? Promise I won’t bite, little mouse~.” His usual bored expression is replaced with a sly smirk as he calls you by the nickname.

You cannot deny the feeling of blood rushing to your cheeks at the nickname and the knowledge that the very muscular and good looking beast man was in that spring with nothing on but a short pair of swim trunks. You turn around so your back is facing him to relieve the pressure of taking off your cover up off in front of him. But as soon as the coverup drops to the ground, you can feel his intense gaze looking your body up and down. You ignore it and get in the spring with him…well across from him, not wanting to intrude on his space or give him a reason to regret him offering the opportunity to you. He rests his head on the ground behind him once again, staring at the night stars as he did the night before the tournament

“Y-you did a good job out there. Didn’t expect my name to be said at all but…if that’s what people think of when they hear my name, I guess I don’t mind.”You slouch a bit in the water, not being sure if you should’ve broke the silence

“Heh,s’that so or were you just excited to hear your name leaving my lips with confidence?” he grins as he smells the shift in your hormones from the comment made. He stands from his spot in the water and walks towards you and you find yourself distracted by the water cascading down his chest and eventually his abs and back into the water again. Soon you feel his tail around your waist and your body flush against his

You feel his fingers dancing on your skin comfortably, occasionally using his nail to provide a little stimulation until his hands reach down to your ass, a cocky smirk appearing when he hears the slight moan and gasp that followed after.

“Thought so, now, y’want me to make you scream mine in exchange?”

“H-huh? What do you mea-“ before you can say anything else to talk yourself out of what you oh so desperately desired, you are pulled into a sloppy kiss with him. His tongue skillfully traveling your mouth and in the heat of it, you find yourself wrapping your legs around his slutty but strong torso. Causing him to chuckle into the kiss and briefly pause

“There ya go, so needy for me already. Can’t say I’m surprised with the way you were staring me down in my rightful throne.” He whispers into your ear before giving your lobe a suck and nibble and continuing down to your sensitive jaw, relishing in the sound of your moans blending beautifully with the sound of the waterfall. His trained hands easily rid you of your bottoms, savoring the smell and he aligns himself with your entrance and to say that the tip itself was overwhelming would be an understatement. He uses the heated water to his advantage and begins stretching you beautifully while continuing to mark up your neck and chest

“L-Leona~”

“That’s a little too quiet for me, Let me fix that~” Before you can process what was said, you feel a stinging stretch that makes you feel full. A deep growl escapes his lips as the veins and spines of his dick acquaint itself with your warmth. He lets it sit there for a moment as you get adjusted before he begins moving into you, starting with slow and hard thrusts, which allow a string of curses to escape your lips, which isn’t exactly what he was looking for…so he picks up the pace and also starts slamming you onto himself with his own hands.

The sound of his hips slapping against your ass fill the air with a slight echoing off the walls of the spring and the water continues to ripple in sync. His growls get deeper and louder as you begin clenching around him, your scent getting stronger as you’re about to release and the incoherent babbling of uncontrollable sounds as he ravages you only serve as more fuel.

“I know you’re close, I better hear my name loud and clear when you finish, if not, I’m edging you till the sun comes up, got it little mouse~?” his tone was commanding, raspy and sexy.You nod at him, still barely able to form coherent words, an occasional “daddy” and “my king” falling from your lips between moans until you finally unravel and your legs begin to shake around his waist.

“LEONAAAAAA~ fuck fuck fuuuuck”

“What a slutty little pet you are, at least y’know how to listen.” he pounds up into you after hearing his name be screamed with such pleasure rather than the usual fussing that follows afterwards. He lets out a roar of his own while he finishes inside of you, watching with pride as the liquids drip into the hot spring and dissipate.

After a few more rounds, Leona finds himself aiding a stumbling you back to the truck and you fall asleep on the way back to the hotel. Everyone is still asleep when you arrive and he makes sure to feed you before letting you rest in your room for the night…with one of his luxury blankets.

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀౨౿  ׅ ۟   ֪ 𝓢ecrets 𝓐nd 𝓣emptations ۪ ׂ   𓈒 ୭

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀professor!miguel⠀𝓍⠀professor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀it was just a stupid party. drink, flirt, and gossip. you weren’t expecting to have a one nightstand with a charming, mysterious man. you also weren’t expecting he is the newly hired professor at the same university you teach at.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀college!au, strangers to enemies (sorta) to lovers, tension, angst, smut, protected sex, fem oral, confessions, jealousy, swearing, pet names, hispanic/latina!reader ( mdni )

enjoy yourself tonight.

that’s what your friends told you.

despite your many objections, they dragged your ass to a party. a friend of a friend is throwing it. not wanting to be a complaining bitch, you suck it up and tag along. a basic mini dress and matching heels. nothing too extra, just simple.

the minute you arrive there, you want to leave. you don’t know anyone but you’re two friends, lyla and felicia. the best decision is to stick by their side. unfortunately, felicia is flirting with some tall light brunette skinny guy. he isn’t that attractive but everyone has their own taste. lyla, on the other hand, immediately heads over towards the food. she’s a big eater, already stuffing her mouth with appetizers.

a sigh escapes your lips. left all alone.

so much for enjoying yourself. your friends ditched you and you don’t know a single soul here so how the hell can you enjoy yourself tonight?

the only thing to enjoy is “double fantasy” by the weeknd playing through the speakers.

with nothing much else to do, you stumble towards the bar. you kindly ask the bartender for a modelo. the look he gives you says you picked an odd choice out of all options but shrugs it off and fetches your requested drink. you resist rolling your eyes.

fucking dick, you thought to yourself.

it’s been 10 minutes and you haven’t received your corona. your brows furrowed in confusion.

“excuse me?” you call out to the bartender, who’s dealing with other customers. of course the bastard didn’t hear you over the loud ass music. another sigh falls from your lips. “excuse me, sir?” you wave.

that finally got his attention but his slightly annoyed expression caught you off guard.

what’s this dude’s deal?

“you forgot my modelo.” you tell him, trying to be polite, maintaining your attitude.

he turns around and grabs it from the shelf.

it was there so easy to grab yet took him 10 minutes? he was just straight up ignoring you.

“sorry.” the bastard mutters without eye contact then walks away to tend other customers.

now you roll your eyes. “cabrón.” you mutter, grabbing the bottle and take a sip of the drink.

turning around, you scan the area. half talking on the sidelines and half on the dance floor. your eyes widen when you find felicia making out with that same guy. welp, at least she’s having a great time. you shrug it off with another sip of your modelo. glancing around, you begin feeling like an outcast. your fingers clench the glass bottle, holding it to your chest. standing there awkwardly as everyone else has fun.

instead of glancing around like a weirdo, you wander around the place. passing by all types of people you’re not familiar with. trying not to bump into someone, especially a drunk idiot.

with your social battery running low, or basically not in the mood to deal with people, you find a secluded space where not much people are. away from the dumb party. you stare out at the view, the gorgeous city of nueva york from a rooftop.

just a moment of solitude.

a delicious fresh breeze flows by, making you close your eyes to relish the refreshing air.

“escaping from the chaos?”

a baritone voice form behind makes your while around, startling you a bit.

a man, tall and broad. clad in all black. dress shirt, slacks, and oxfords. brown curls slicked back. a simple silver necklace dangling around his neck. a matching silver watch that was obviously expensive. his right hand holding a small glass.

utterly handsome, definitely your type. you only like brunettes. what caught your eye are those sharp cheekbones and strong jawline. so perfect and sharp, slide your finger along them and you’ll get a paper cut. firm, masculine facial features.

“parties aren’t really my forte.” the lack of enthusiasm in your voice says it all.

“you’re not alone.” he walks forward, walking up beside you. “they aren’t mine either.” he stares out at the view, taking a sip of his beverage.

you observe him with curious eyes. turning around so you’re facing the view again. only this time you have company. strangely enough, you don’t mind. you get a good whiff of his cologne. damn, he smells good.

you also realize exactly how tall this man is. way over a foot taller than you. perhaps two feet taller.

“suppose we’re the outsiders.” you joke.

“like the book?” he muses.

you quirk a brow, intrigued by his reference. “i guess so, classic book and movie.”

“agree.” the man hums.

a beat passed by before he speaks again. however, his next few words surprises you.

“i have to confess, i noticed you earlier.” he admits. “you caught my eye. i just had the urge to talk to you, as strangely as it sounds. which i apologize for.” he quickly adds that last phrase.

you gaze up at him. intrigued by his interest in you. it was foreign to you since you’ve only been on a few dates but never led to anything serious. or a man confessing wholeheartedly of their interest.

you notice his slight tensed expression when you don’t respond. the air got tensed as well.

“miguel o’hara.” he quickly introduces himself, extending his free hand for you to shake.

you finally respond with your name as you gently shake his hand. taking mental note of his engulfs yours completely. damn, they’re really huge. you make sure to not ogle at them.

“so what brings you here?” you decide to initiate a proper conversation. your interest in this man slowly grows. his mysterious aura is so alluring.

“mutual friend of the party owner. didn’t want to come but was forced to anyways.”

your brows raised in surprise. “in the same boat. i was dragged here then left like getting dropped off at daycare.” you take a sip of your drink.

that earns you a light snort from the tall man. “doesn’t seem like true friends.”

you shrug. “they’re great, just spending time with things they love. men and food.”

miguel’s head tilts a little, one thick brow quirk up. “what do you love?”

the question caught you off, definitely wasn’t expecting nor know how to answer. what do you love? it’s complicated, despite how simple it sounds.

“solitude. being alone is comforting.” your gaze returns to the view, away from his for a moment.

“i guess i ruined that comfort.”

you lightly shake your head. “you didn’t. surprisingly enough, your presence is actually the only one that doesn’t bother me tonight.” you look back at him.

it’s true. his alluring presence doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable or annoyed. intrigued and captivated instead. perhaps he is another outsider like you.

“well, i’m glad to know that.” the corners of his very plump lips twitch upward, a brief smile.

surprising, that makes your heart flutter a little. you’ve only met the man and already has an affect you. no other man has done that before.

you and miguel carry on your conversation, getting to know one another. you two retreated to the kitchen inside, sitting on the barstools at the kitchen island. sipping on your drinks. his fingers would linger beside your bare calf. his touch igniting sparks in your body. your expression remains a neutral as you talk, but internally screaming. damn this man really has an affect on you. perhaps the only good thing that came out from this stupid party.

“seems like it’s getting more intense. do you want leave? someplace less crowded where we can hear each other better.” a light chuckle left his lips.

a little smile graces your lips. “sure, besides i don’t wanna deal with more drunk idiots.”

that earns you another chuckle from him, making your heart flutter once again.

you try finding felicia and lyla to let them know you’re leaving but there’s too much people it’ll be possible to find them. you’ll just send them a text.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

miguel takes you a small pub which was much less crowded. you have dinner there since both of you didn’t eat at the party. this was much better, in a quieter atmosphere, no chaos, and having a sincere conversation with someone who’s considerate.

“can i kiss you?”

his husky, seductive tone makes your heart swoop.

you then remember this could lead to a one nightstand and nothing else. although, there is this spark between you two, obviously sexual tension. miguel may be a nice guy, just don’t fall too deeply. it’s be a one time thing. it’s also probably be the last time you’ll ever him since you two never talked about your personal life like jobs, if either of you live close by. you prefer to keep personal information private, miguel respected and understood that.

you nod with a tiny smirk. “polite, i like it.”

miguel grins as he leans closer. his breath fanning yours. his lips gently pressed against yours. a gentle, soft kiss. damn his lips feel good, all plumped and nice. yours, though, are addictively sweet. he can taste your lip gloss but doesn’t care if some get on his. you never thought you’d kiss in a pub, let alone in public but with miguel, you feel comfortable.

he takes you back to his apartment. on the drive there, his hand gently massaged your thigh while driving with the other. your body tingled in excitement at the sensation. the same hand never left your lower back as you entered his home.

instead of rushing to the bedroom, you two talk a little more. miguel reassured you if you wish to leave, if you’re not comfortable with this because he doesn’t want you to think he’s only looking for sex. he truly enjoyed his conversations with you. you told him it’s fine and want to stay with him.

truthfully, you’re excited for what’s coming but of course you keep that to yourself. you’ve been wet since the moment his fingers were on your calf back at the party. his touches are just something else.

gently taking your hand in his, miguel guides you to the bedroom. he turns around and gingerly cups your face with both hands then kisses you. your hand rest on his abs, feeling the muscles through his dress shirt. you fight the urge to unbuckle his belt, you don’t want to seem desperate.

the kiss grows more passionate. shivers go down your spine as his hands slowly trail down your back. shoulder blades, the curve of your spine, then at your hips right above your ass. you can sense his hesitation so you decide to apply some pressure into the kiss and roam your hands over his broad shoulders to tigger his tendencies.

it worked since he gently palms it through your dress, eliciting a soft moan from you. now that did trigger his urges. bending down, miguel grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you in his arms. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his slightly pinched waist as he walks towards the bed. very carefully, miguel placed you down the mattress, hovering over you, yours lips never detach. your fingers dig into his brown curls as your passionate makeout season continues.

you softly sigh as his lips brush along your jawline then your delicate neck. fingers playing with his curls, making miguel’s mind hazy.

he leaves a few more butterfly kisses on your neck before lifting up. miguel glances at your chest then your eyes. “puedo?”

you nod with smirk, hiding your excitement.

his fingers grip on the zipper on the front of your dress and slowly pulls it down. miguel bites back a moan as peeks of your cleavage are revealed to his lustful eyes. a glimpse of your black lacy bra hugging your breasts perfectly like a gift.

you inhale sharply as his large palms gently cup them. he gives them a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft gasp from you. board palms playing with the soft squishy fat, kneading it with expertise. the lacy fabric of your bra on his fingertips. the addicting sensation makes you arch your back, chest leaning into his touch. miguel buries his face in your cleavage, kissing and licking the soft skin. a moan falls from your lips when his hands push them together, stuffing his face more with your soft tits.

one hand trails down to the hem of your dress. “is this okay?” he lifts his head to meet your gaze.

you hum with a nod.

miguel slowly pulls your dress off your body over your head then tosses it on the floor. his breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of your exposed body. eyes roaming over each curve.

his admiring gaze makes you a little nervous. it’s been a while since you’ve been intimate with someone. last time was a one nightstand with some asshole, in the beginning he didn’t seem like one, and he only went straight for pound town, not silently worshiping like the mysterious man above is.

you also don’t want to be the only one almost naked. your fingers grip on his belt. “your turn, guapo.”

a low chuckle falls from his lips. “impatient.”

you help him unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned chest. decorated with chest hair. the sound of his belt unbuckling makes your body tingle in excitement, specifically down to your throbbing core.

your eyes widen in awe at his muscular form. chest hair, delicious abs, and mouthwatering happy trail. they widen more as you notice the large bulge in his boxers. you expected him to be big due to his large frame but the outline makes it look like a monster.

“lift up your hips for me.” he said.

you obliged, lifting your hips. miguel slides a pillow underneath, giving you some support.

he bends down towards your legs. grabbing one leg, his lips brush against your calf. miguel slowly trails up your leg, reaching towards your inner thigh. your heart raced in anticipation. your breath hitched as you feel his lips sucking your inner thigh. your core throbs terribly, desperate for him.

he grins against your skin as he feels your legs twitch. “impatient for me, huh gatita?” he slowly moves towards your clothed cunt. miguel’s grin widens as he hears a small whine from above.

“no te procupes, gaitia. i’ll make sure you scream my name.” his seductive words makes sends shivers down your spine. gripping the edges of your panties, miguel slowly drags them down your legs.

those crimson eyes never leave your exposed pussy as he tosses your panties on the floor. grabbing your thighs and placing them on his bulky shoulders, miguel dives in and licks a stripe up your throbbing core. making you shudder and let out a soft moan. he switches between licking you up and sucking your sweet bundle of nerves. those sweet noises you’re making encouraged him to continue.

“dios… you taste amazing, gatita.” he moans against you, sending vibrations through you. “my dessert tonight.” he says in between licking and sucking.

his lips suck bit more aggressively on your clit, causing you to moan loudly. instinctively, you dig your fingers in his hair once again. each lick and suck makes you grip on his hair tighter, earning a muffled groan from the brunette man.

“miguel!~” you moan, arching your back off the bed as he starts penetrating you with his tongue.

the tip of the wet muscle penetrating you perfectly. causing your back to arch like waves. instinctively, you grind against his face. endless moans spilling from your lips. you definitely weren’t expecting him to be such a munch. each flick of his tongue, lips sucking your clit contain with such expertise.

after more flicks of his tongue, you come with a wail of his name. gushing over his tongue with your sweetness. a shiver runs down his spine at how beautifully you sang his name. miguel drinks you up feverishly as if he found an oasis.

finally, he moves away from your now sensitive pussy. “delicious, gatita. best dessert ever.” miguel seductively runs his tongue over lips, collecting the leftover of your sweetness. the sight makes your pussy flutter. he caught that and smirks.

grabbing a condom packet from the nightstand, miguel swiftly takes off his boxers. his cock bouncing out from its confinements. your eyes blown out by the size of it. holy shit he’s really fucking huge. there is no way that will fit inside you. your pussy, however, throbs for it, despite its size.

he sensed your apprehension. “i’ll be careful. lo prometo, gatita.” miguel climbs back on the bed, hovering your smaller figure.

“do you trust me?” he asks softly. “if we need to stop, tell me.” sincerity in his tone.

you nod. “i trust you.”

gripping his cock with a hand and the other on your thigh, miguel aligned himself with your entrance. a shared moan mingles in the steamy air as he slowly slides through your tight fluttering walls.

“fuck- so tight, gatita. gotta let me in a little more, por fav.” miguel groans.

you try by spreading your legs as much as you can, giving him the space he needs. a soft whimper falls from your lips as you feel his bulbous tip settled against your sweet spot. as soon as he bottoms out and you give him the green light, he does a slow thrust. eliciting a soft moan from you.

gingerly taking both your wrists with one hand, miguel’s gaze is locked with yours as he slowly kisses them then pins them above your head on the pillow.

“gonna make you feel good, hermosa.” he whispers huskily before capturing your lips with his, slowly thrusting into your tight cunt.

your moans and whimpers are muffled, sallowed by miguel’s lips. his cock slowly dragging out before plunging it back inside your fluttering walls with a deep slow thrust, allowing you to feel every inch of him. even with the condom on, you feel all of him.

miguel is in awe of your blissful expression. fluttering lashes, brows furrowed, gorgeous eyes rolled back, pretty sounds falling from your lips, back arched. a sense of pride flowing through his veins, knowing he is causing those movements of ecstasy.

“hermosa… taking me so well.” he softly pants, face leaning closer towards yours. his panting gently hitting your face as he admires you.

“oh miguel~” you moan as a big deep thrust hits your sweet spot. back arched for the hundredth time.

he lets out a groan as he feel yours walls clenching his cock. going insane at the sensation, motivating him to slowly pick up the pace of his hips.

obscure sounds mingles in the hot air of sex. your moans and his groans in unison. his hips snaps against yours at a faster pace. with his free hand, it travels down to where you’re connected and flicks your clit with his middle finger. causing you to moan loudly which makes him smile, back arched off the bedsheets at the sudden intense sensation. your hands balled into fists, nails digging into your palms.

“no other man has fucked you like this, huh gatita?” he pants above you. a grin on his face that grows wider when you shake your head followed by a whine.

the bed rocked due to miguel’s slight harsh thrust. the headboard repeatedly hitting the wall. he’ll get complaints from his neighbors but doesn’t give a shit. this intimate moment with you is more important than worrying about disturbing his dumbass neighbors’ slumber.

a few more rough flicks to your puffy clit and thrusts against that sensitive spot, you come with a wail of his name. gushing over his concealed cock, miguel wishing he could truly feel it but accepts it and is too mesmerized by your angelic expression as you reach the pinnacle of pleasure so beautifully.

as soon as he gently releases your wrists, you use all your strength and flip positions. miguel’s eyes go wide as he’s suddenly laying on his back, impressed by your sudden take of control but oh so loves the view above him. resting your hands on his abs, you ride his cock after feeling desperate to do so. another loud moan escapes your lips. you feel him deeper in this position. all the way in your guts.

large palms grip the fat of your hips, tightening with each roll of your hips. while riding the fuck out of him, you suddenly remembered you’re still wearing your bra. quickly unclasping it with a hand, the garment falls off your chest, freeing your breasts. miguel’s eyes widen, a groan rumbling from his chest at the sight of your exposed breasts. watching them jiggle as you bounce on his dick. a thin layer of sweat coating them like a dressing.

a deep feeling of hunger bubbles in his body. his hands on your hips travel up to your bouncing tits and gropes them. kneading the soft mounds feverishly. relishing the squishiness in his palms. with his thumb and index finger, he pinches your perky nipples then gently tugs them. eliciting a loud whine from you. the reaction makes him grin.

a loud groan erupts from his throat, throwing his head back against the pillow as you circle your hips in sinful manner. “oh fuck- mami…” instinctively, his hands return to your hips, tighter this time.

your legs were about to give out due to the burning sensation but miguel’s hands on your hips guiding you was a big help. the more you bounce on his cock, the faster both your orgasms were approaching.

“fuck- i’m gonna—“ miguel cuts himself with a load groan as he reaches his climax. spurting thick white ropes into the condom, filling it with his seed. secretly wishing it was your pussy.

you come as well, marking it as your third time tonight. you’re never orgasmed so much in your life. definitely an incredible experience.

you collapse on his chest and miguel immediately wraps his arms around you. your pants echoing the room as you both recover from your highs. his thumb tenderly rubbing up and down your spine as comfort.

after a few minutes to recover, miguel tossed out the used condom in the trash and carefully cleans you up with a towel from his bathroom. after cleaning up and giving you a water bottle, he then joins you in the covers and allow slumber to call both your names.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

you never forgot that night.

you left that morning before miguel woke up. a part of you felt guilt but it was a one nightstand after all. despite the chemistry between you two. some things are meant to end. it’s just how life is.

besides, you’ll probably never see him again. miguel radiates that mystery guy vibe who’ll you will meet once and never again afterwards.

you really liked him, you really did. still do, in fact. he never left your mind. his touch still lingering on your skin like a ghost. how good he made you feel, the sex and conversations with him. you felt so comfortable with him. however, it was just a one time thing.

oh well.

now summer activities are over and the new school year begins. another year giving lectures. you love your job as a professor, encouraging and motivating students to become their best.

each year is different. you’re excited to see what’s in store for this school year.

dressed in a fresh outfit for the first day. a baby pink blouse with a long white silk skirt. after your first two lectures, you decide to head to the teachers lounge for a quick cup of coffee. you didn’t go to your usual cafe this morning since you were in a bit of a rush.

entering the lounge, you head over to the counter where the coffee maker is. waving and greeting fellow colleagues on your way in. once you make your coffee, you stir it with a plastic spoon. after enough stirring, you take a small sip to test if it’s good. a satisfied hum from your lips says it all.

as you turn around to start your journey back to your classroom, your heart drops.

standing across the room talking with a few other male colleagues, a man with brown hair and stands way taller than his two counterparts. clad in black button up shirt and dark denim jeans. a pair of thick rimmed glasses settled over his eyes.

miguel.

the same miguel from the stupid party.

the same miguel you fucked that same night.

suddenly, you feel paralyzed. a wave of shock coursing through your body. jaw dropped and eyes popping out of your damn skull.

he’s a fucking professor here? at the same fucking university as you? what the actual fuck.

you fucked a coworker?

oh fuck.

those thoughts pause the moment his eyes meets yours before widening as well. his expression matches yours. a wave of anxiety hits you.

shit shit shit.

your body goes into panic mode and you bolted out of lounge. not sparing a glance at him. anxiety consumes your body like a virus. heart pounding in your chest as you hurriedly walk down the hallway. you didn’t notice the concern looks given your way as you rush back to your classroom.

a sudden wave of nausea hits you as you enter your classroom and hurriedly shut the door. tossing your coffee in the trash. the nausea destroyed your thirst and hunger simultaneously. holding your hands close to your chest, you slowly slide down against the door before sitting on the cold tile floor. the rapid drumbeat of your heart echos in your ears. chest heaving frantically and eyes fluttering.

this can’t be happening. this can’t be true.

miguel is a fucking professor?

but you’ve never seen him before in previous years. you’ve been teaching at nueva york university for four years. never once you saw his devilish handsome face on this campus. you’re 100% sure of it.

oh shit- is he new?

word has been announced a new professor, a biology professor specifically, has been hired.

oh my god- it’s fucking miguel.

glancing at the clock on the wall, your phone was on your desk so you couldn’t read the time easily, it’s an hour before your next lecture. that gives you time to deal with this mindfuck and calm down.

all you pray is to not run into miguel at all.

that ultimately fails when he catches you in the parking lot.

“don’t touch me.” you aggressively shrug away from his light touch on your upper arm, stomping your way to your car as fast as you can.

“please, can we talk?” miguel pleads, almost sounds desperate as he follows you like a lost puppy.

“no, stay the fuck away from me.”

“hermosa, pro favor—“

“stop!” you whirl around with bloodshot eyes, making him stop in his tracks. “stop following me! i don’t wanna fucking talk to you… at least, not in public…” you quickly glance around the parking lot, making sure there’s no bystanders.

his eyes do the same before sighing, his shoulders slumped. “i know, just please let me explain to you.”

you shake your head. “i said not in public.”

“then let’s go someplace else.”

“i’m not going anywhere with you.”

he frowns, secretly butthurt. “¿porque?”

“because i don’t wanna be seen with you because we’re coworkers! when people see us together too close, they’ll get the wrong idea.”

another sigh escapes his lips, understanding what you’re implying. “i understand but we really do need to talk—“

“no, we’re not talking. end of conversation.” you stomp your way to your car, which was only a foot away, ignoring miguel’s pleads.

part of you really wants to talk to him, know what the fuck is going on. it’s the right thing to do but the potential gossip of two professors hanging out with each other a bit too closely which could jeopardize you both consumes your mind.

miguel gives up and stops chasing after you once you got into your car and drive off with a pissed off face. shoulders still slumped as he sighs, feeling defeated and a little frustrated.

“fuck…” he curses at himself, running a hand through his brown curls.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

you avoided miguel like a fucking plague.

cooped up in your classroom majority of the day. the only times you’d leave is to use the restroom, fr an a quick snack from the local campus cafe, meet other professors for discussions.

luckily, miguel hasn’t shown up to your classroom. probably doesn’t know which room number is yours. although, you don’t doubt he has asked others for it. but still, he hasn’t shown up yet.

you never stepped foot in the lounge in fear of seeing him there like the previous time. too afraid to see his large silhouette around campus and chase after you.

you feel so fucking guilty. you truly are making this worse and awkward than it already is. you should talk to him, sort this shit out. communication is key.

but fear is consumes you like virus.

you fucking a coworker would cause a scandal. okay, maybe you’re being a little dramatic. you and miguel are both adults and professors. you just don’t want drama or gossip spreading around. coworkers whispering behind your back. that’s the last thing you need, more bullshit added to your list.

you exhale deeply as you walk down the hall towards your classroom. the first lecture starts in 20 minutes so you had time to grab breakfast at the campus cafe. a croissant sandwich and fruit.

“hey!” a familiar male voice calls out.

turning around, you see your coworker eddie. a sigh of relief leaves your lips, thankful it’s not miguel.

“hey, eddie.” you greet your friend with a smile.

“hey, me and the guys are meeting at jackie’s tonight. you still planning to come?”

the guys consist of you, eddie, your coworker peter and his wife mj, your other coworker jessica and her husband. eddie used to bring his girlfriend anne until they broke up. almost every friday, you all would head over to jackie’s, the local bar for funnies.

you nod with a smile. “yep, i’ll be there.”

“okay, cool! also, should i get red or white tulips?”

you quirk a brow, smirking. “you’re really trying to win back anne, aren’t you?”

a shameful smile plastered on his face. “yeah…” he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck with a hand.

you sigh, shaking your head with a smile. “white because they represent forgiveness.”

eddie claps excitedly with a big grin before pulling you in a quick, tight hug. “thank you, thank you, thank you! you’re the best!”

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. “of course, eddie.”

“see you tonight!” he lets you go then starts walking away with a wave.

you laugh, waving back. you hope things work out for him and anne, unlike you and miguel. you dismiss the thought with a head shake and walk away.

unknowingly, a pair of jealous brown eyes observed the interaction from down the hall. miguel knew eddie, one of the coworkers he became acquainted with on his first day. he sometimes gets on miguel’s nerves with his shitty ass humor, and consistent crying about his breakup with anne.

but oh eddie was really on his nerves when he pulled you into a hug. miguel’s jaw clenched and fists tightens at the intimate moment. he knows eddie is still in love with anne, would never chase after another woman because his heart still beats for her. by the interaction, it seems you two are friends which is totally fine. it’s normal to have friends.

but miguel’s brain says otherwise. eddie’s arms wrapped around you made his eye twitch. jealously boiling in his veins. miguel knows he shouldn’t be jealous because you’re not his and he’s not yours. but his feelings for you are strong. he wished it was him giving you that hug, just to feel you in his arms again.

your distant behavior was taking a toll on him. turning on your heel the minute he sees you and tries chasing you but ultimately fails. it leaves him upset and frustrated. miguel needs to talk to you.

he needs to find a way.

he has find a day to talk to you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

as you’re walking down the hall to your classroom, a yelp falls from your lips as you’re suddenly yanked by the arm into a supply closet. whirling around to face whoever snatched you, your eyes widen.

“motherfucker…”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t have another choice.” miguel holds up his hand cautiously.

“dragging me into a supply closet, where the janitor can clearly walk in, was your only choice?”

he lowers his hands. “okay, not the greatest idea but i just need to talk to you.”

“no.” you try moving past him but his bigass frame blocks you completely. “ugh! move, miguel.”

“not until we talk.” he said sternly, crossing his arms.

you groan, rolling your eyes. “ya te dije, i don’t wanna talk to you. especially not here, miguel.”

“tell me why you’re freaking out and i’ll let you go.”

anger and impatience boils in your veins. nails digging into your palms as your fists tightens. “i swear, if you don’t move i’ll—“

“what are you gonna do, gatita?” he coos, smirking.

“don’t call me that, especially in public.”

“we’re in a supply closet, there’s no one else.”

you grown out of frustration. “ay por dios, miguel! let me out! i have a class in 10 minutes!”

miguel just stands there with an intimidating expression, piercing eyes looking down at you. his heart races in his chest. being so close to you again makes his mind hazy. it’s been weeks, almost a month since you’ve been in the same space, standing so close to each other. he fought his demons to touch you, hold you in his arms.

you whine, running both hands over your face. you can’t believe this is happening. locked in a closet with the man who’s been constantly on your mind. tossing and turning in your bed having wet dreams about. whose touches still linger on your skin.

you hate the way he towers over you so easily. you hate the way he can corner you with his big frame. you hate the way your heart is racing because of him.

“fine, you wanna talk? let’s talk. why didn’t you tell me?” you fold your arms, mirroring his posture.

you went straight to the point.

miguel sighs, frowning. “first, you never mentioned you worked at a college. second, at the time i didn’t know if i was getting the job or not. i didn’t get a call until a week after we met.”

allowing his words to sink in, you do remember not mentioning you’re a professor at nyu. you kept personal information private.

“okay, the first part is on me.” you state before sighing once again. “fuck…” you lean against the wall with a thud, staring at the ceiling to avoid his eyes.

“trust me, i’m just surprised as much as you are.” miguel takes a small step closer.

you look back at him, staring at each other for a moment. if you had superhearing, you’d hear both your rapid heartbeats. the close proximity makes you and miguel anxious, bashful messes.

quickly blinking, you snap out of it. “there, we talked, bye.” swooping past him, you quickly open the door and walk out, not giving him enough time to react.

thankfully, there wasn’t anyone in the hallway. rushing back to your classroom, you swiftly close the door and sat down at your desk. you let out a deep breath before slouching down in your chair.

you can’t believe that just happened.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

coffee and books, two of your favorite things. you pay a visit to your local bookshop café. you spend an hour and a half slipping on coffee while reading a murder mystery novel. once it’s time to leave, you pack up your things and exit the little café.

the night sky above tells you it was late. on the path home, you pass by a sketchy alleyway. decorated in graffiti and trash scattered among the floor. a shadowy figure emerges from the shadows.

“hello, gorgeous.” a homeless man.

you ignore him, picking up the pace so you can avoid the man at all costs.

“don’t walk awayyyy.” the idiot slurs.

“please, stay away from me.” you keep on walking but you can hear his footsteps behind you. anxiety begins creeping through your veins.

“whaaat, i’m not gonna—“

“leave the lady alone.” a third voice said.

turning around, you see miguel standing in between you and the homeless guy.

“s-sorry, man.” the man holds up his hands in surrender. a slightly frightened look on his face before walking away like a coward.

with a stern frown, miguel keeps a cautious eye on the guy until he was completely gone. he then turns around, about to ask if you’re okay but you opened your mouth already.

“you’re following me, now? fucking creep.”

miguel lets out a frustrated groan. “i’m not following you. i just left the boxing gym and was on my way home then i saw you on the way.”

“uh huh, sure.” you narrow your eyes at him.

“ay mujer, when will you fucking believe me for once?” a sigh escapes his lips.

your eyes dart at his outfit. a black tank top and a matching sweatshirt over it. gray motherfucking sweats. strings of hair sticked to his forehead due to sweat. his duffel bag hanging over his shoulder.

fuck, he looks so good. you imagine him boxing, muscles rippling with each punch—

no, can’t have horny thoughts right now.

“what is this? my knight in shining armor? real fucking classic, miguel.”

“wh- no. that homeless guy wouldn’t stop bothering you so of course i had to stop him.”

“oh so what? you want my token of gratitude? sorry, i don’t have a handkerchief on me.” you pretend checking yourself for one. “i’ll just say thank you and goodbye.” you turn around and start walking away.

miguel blinks in disbelief at your childish tactics then proceeds to follow you. “you can’t just keep ignoring me and pretend nothing happened!”

“yes, i can.” you state firmly, still walking away.

“just talk to me!”

“miguel!”

a pregnant pause falls between you two. staring at one another. chests heaving, feeling breathless. your yelling cussed some heads to turn but neither of you care. people continue brushing past you both.

“not here…” you plead softly.

with a sigh, miguel silently nods and you both walk back to your apartment. the tension grew stronger during the silent walk back.

once you stepped foot into your apartment, you force miguel to take a shower because you don’t want his sweaty ass sitting in your living room. he teasing comment about showering together earned him a slap on the arm. his chuckling and smirk on his handsome face makes your skin crawl. he changed into his other set of clothes, different shirt and sweats. you take a shower after him, changing into a nightgown with a silky robe over it.

how the fuck did it get this far? one minute you’re avoiding him like a fucking virus at work, then he’s sitting on your couch after using your shower.

after offering him tea, you hand him is mug then sit down on the other end of the couch, leaving mic space between you two. much to his dismay but miguel understands and respects it.

another long awkward silence before miguel speaks up. “i was really happy i found you…” he glances at you. “i haven’t stop thinking about you since.”

that made your heart skip a beat.

“i really enjoyed spending time with you. i’ve never felt so connected with anyone before. i knew you were special the moment i saw you and i’m glad i decided to go to that dumb party to meet you.” he turns so he’s fully facing you. “believe me, spending time with you is better than any party.”

your heart did multiple summersaults. his words created butterflies in your tummy. never in your life someone had said such heartwarming words to you, nevertheless about you.

“when you left,” you notice his tone changes, a bit more sorrowful. “i was scared i’d never see you again. i asked some friends from the party if they knew you or at least your friends so i could find you. but i got no luck so i…” he pauses for a moment, sighing.

that guilty feeling returns, consuming your body. “i’m… i’m sorry i left. it’s just… i thought it was a one time thing so…” your gaze falters.

miguel frowns, upset but understands. he was about to say something but you continue on. he didn’t mind though. he wants to hear you.

“but the truth is i do feel the same way. i haven’t stopped thinking about you either. our conversations did mean something to me. i’ve never felt so comfortable with someone, especially right off the bat. it felt so nice having a sincere connection because it’s hard to find that with someone.”

you quickly glance up and see his expression softened. it reminds you of those conversations with him that night. how attentive and thoughtful he was.

“the reason why i’m freaking out is because coworkers dating isn’t really looked upon on well.” you tear away from his gaze with a shrug, concealing your embarrassment. “i didn’t want gossip spreading around and affect our jobs. especially you since you just started.” you let out another sad sigh.

that frown returns, but a concern frown. “hermosa…” scooting closer so he’s next to you, he gingerly cups your cheek with a hand, making you look back at him. “i appreciate your concern, a lot. i understand coworker relationships aren’t praised but honestly i don’t care.” he watched your eyes widen. “i don’t care what they say. what i do care about is you.”

your heart flutters, butterflies in you belly.

with both hands, he gently holds your face in his hands like the precious thing is in his palms. “i really like you, querida. i want nothing more than getting to know more of you, if you let me.”

at this point, you heart is beating like a drum. lashes fluttering and cheeks warm. his kind, heartwarming words washes your worries away. finally, you allow your heart to win. gently placing your hands on his wrists, you give them a loving squeeze. “sí.”

the corner of his lips curl up into a smile. a smile that makes your heart swoon. leaning closer, miguel gently pressed his lips on yours in a soft kiss. your hands leave his wrists to cup his face. his hands slowly move down your body, fingers skimming over the fabric of your silky robe waist as the kiss grows more passionate. instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean closer. his own secured around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

things escalated quickly, growing spicier. soft moans and groans. lips devouring one another. hands roaming around feverishly. left with no patience, miguel quickly rises from the couch and rushes to your bedroom, carrying you bridal style in his arms. your laughs echoing in the hallway.

perhaps everything was going to be fine. as long as miguel is by your side and you by his, no negative comments or criticism will stop you from loving each other. in fact, nothing but praises came your way when your relationship was later revealed.

everything was fine.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀note.⠀i had lots of fun writing this, definitely another fav of mine. kudos to @lazyjellyfish300 for the wrist kissing scene because of her post. thanks for the inspo, queen! ♡

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @laysmt @felinespark @eatalyy @devotion @miss-canon-event @club-danger-zone @clearlysworld @unhinged-reader-36 @slut4oscarissac23 @hao-ming-8

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[yourtypicalhuman09]

Beyond The Bat

(Neglected reader x Yandere batfam)

Chapter 1: In The Shadows

TW!!! Cursing !!Dark AU!!

Living in the Wayne manor isn't the sweet luxurious dream you'd think it'd be, reality is in fact much crueler. For as long as I could remember I had lived in this dreary mansion, but lived isn't the word I'd use. I was more trapped here if anything. My "family", if I could even call them that, are well respected people. They're highly skilled and talented people, someone like me could only dream to be like them. I tried so hard to get close to them, I really did try, but no matter what I did nothing worked. I did everything, gymnastics, martial arts, theater, art, music, coding, dance, volleyball, cheerleading, heck I was even in the honors society. Despite being an A+ student and a role model in high society they never once went to any of my recitals, games, or showcases. I went to galas all alone, I had to deal with the sneering faces and snide remarks of high class men and woman alone since I was 8. Not very safe for a child huh? I didn't think so either but my "father" doesn't seem to care.

Nevertheless, I have no choice in this matter and it's not like life here is unbearable. Sure I get beatings and tongue lashings every now and then, but for the most part everyone in the manor tends to forget me eventually and leave me alone. It's pretty isolating but I got used to it, after all I have duties to perform. I have my job as Student council president and I don't intend to slack off. I got that job with my own blood sweat and tears and I will not let all those sleepless nights go to waste. I don't have time to wallow in self pity I have countless of students looking up to me and counting on me to do my job.

"Young master, are you okay? You seem to be staring off into space."

I looked up to our old butler, his face jaded and littered with wrinkles that seemed to contort pathetically in worry. I knew better than to accept his pity. He seems to be a wise gentle man on the outside with his elegant wardrobe, worn old body, and soft spoken demeanor, but do not be fooled. In truth, Alfred Pennyworth was a foolish coward. This was the same man who abandoned his own daughter just like my idiot of a father. I gave him a chance, but nothing's been the same since the day he accidentally called me Julia. I was nothing but a stand in for him, someone to relieve his guilt with.

"I'm fine. Don't you have something better to do? I'm sure Bruce has some kind of task for you, no need to bother yourself with my problems"

"...Very well then...Take care of yourself young master."

He clearly had something more to say but he decided to do nothing and walk away. Like I said he's a coward. Still I'm not new to disappointment, whether it's the disappointment of missed birthdays or the way they all see me as the disappointment, it's nothing I haven't experienced before. I quickly packed up my things and headed to school. Sure riding to school on an old worn out bike isn't exactly ideal, but I have to deal with what I have. Although, I do have to take some back alleys to school since I don't want anyone seeing and starting a scandal. I can already see the blaring headlines, "Daughter of Gotham's richest man caught riding to school on a beat up bicycle!". What a bunch of nosy bastards.

"Good mornin' (Y/N)!"

I turned to face the sunny senior calling my name, his unadulterated joy making him stand out in the crowd of groggy gothamites.

"Good morning Cyrus."

My crisp responses never seems to deter the boy as he continues to walk beside me chattering endlessly.

"(Y/N) I got things you asked! It's super cool what you're doing for the school, I'm so happy I get to be apart of it! If you ever need help with anything please do ask me!"

I sighed, his joyful energy was contagious. I couldn't help but crack a smile. Though it quickly disappeared as I regained my composure, but obviously not fast enough since Cyrus' joy seems to only be growing.

"Ahhhhh (Y/N) just smiled! I made the student president smile! I'm so sigma"

Here he goes again with those weird words and that cocky grin. I sighed once again, I'm too tired for this.

"Yes thank you Cyrus get to class now, I'll pick up the things I asked for after school."

"Yes ma'am!"

I watched as he playfully saluted and ran to class almost bumping into several people along the way. I facepalmed, he was such a handful but strangely I don't really mind. It's probably the lack of sleep I'll make sure to go to bed early today, for now I have to get to class myself.

Author's note: Omg chapter one is finally out! This took me a lot longer than expected but I hope it's good I went through a tiny writer's block😅. I hope you guys like Cyrus I tried to make him a silly and sunny character but trust me he'll have lore and be a much deeper character. I also tried making (Y/N)'s backstory pretty vague since they're the narrator and I figured they wouldn't like talking about it, but their lore will be revealed more throughout future chapters. Anyways as always thank you all for reading and have a good day/night!

Credits to khaer for the dividers

@simpingpandas @rosalietodd013 @sirenetheblogger @cim0nnin @00hellohello00 @crazycaoticsimp @lovebug-apple @youdontknowshtaboutfk

[ssentimentals]

what about… seungcheol, suggestive prompt number 40 😼😼

seungcheol and 40 sounds great hehe ;) thank you of course for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

suggestive prompt: 'yell at me again and i'll give you reason to scream.'

'i am this close,' you pinch your fingers together leaving a tiny space in between, 'to start throwing stuff at you. don't tempt me, seungcheol.'

normal man would've huffed and walked away. normal man would've apologized and tried to stop the fight. normal man would've tried to calm you down. but seungcheol is not normal, so he only goads you on with that goddamn smirk on his face: 'i'd like to see you try with your shitty aim.'

shout that you let out is almost not human. you grab whatever you can reach first - remote from tv - and fling it at him with the force that you didn't even know you possessed; it flies past his head and slams on the wall behind him. seungcheol turns back to check and huffs: 'you can't even break stuff, babe.'

you groan loudly. seungcheol starts coming close and you rush to the sofa, grabbing pillows from it and throwing them at him without any coordination, somehow hoping that this influx of pillows will stop him for reaching out. it obviously doesn't, but what it does is amuse him to no end. seungcheol is grinning like a madman by the time he reaches you, pinning you to the sofa with his whole body. 'are you done?' he questions, arching both eyebrows. 'there are no pillows left.'

'get off me,' you press, knowing that trying to push him away will not work. seungcheol doesn't listen though, only presses his body closer to yours. it wouldn't be the first time for your fights to end up in something less about fighting and more about fucking, but this time you're way too angry. 'i said get off me!'

your scream surprises both of you. you have this pact, this unspoken agreement that you two don't scream at each other under no circumstances. this is not what any of you is willing to tolerate and you know it, that's why this scream leaves you shocked as well. seungcheol stares at you, unblinking and you instantly deflate, embarrassed at this outburst. it's okay for you to shout or groan loudly but never at him.

'yell at me again and i'll give you reason to scream.' he mutters, eyes full of intent. you gulp and he softens just a little, gently reminding you: 'we don't scream at each other, baby. remember?'

you nod. 'yeah, i do. get off me now.'

he easily complies this time, giving you his hand to help you stand up as well. you both stare at each other in silence, breathing heavily before seungcheol whispers: 'let's go to bed.' at your quirked eyebrow he adds: 'not for that. to talk. but it can be for that too, if you want.'

'god,' you moan, hitting him lightly. 'you're such an idiot. i hate you.'

seungcheol grins, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you towards the bedroom. he kisses your head and smiles at the way you lean on him, tired of the fight. 'i know. you tried to kill me with the remote, afterall.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[revelboo]

Hey darlin’, I hope you’re doing well!!! Congrats on the 1k!!! Thank you for sharing all your wonderful work!!! If it’s not too big an ask, have you ever considered doing any writing for Swerve??? I’m afraid that lil mech makes me melt and I see a lot of myself in him haha

He’s definitely fun to write

Hangman

IDW Swindle x Reader

• There’s an art to deceiving someone. It’s not in his voice or tone, it’s in finding what they need to believe and taking full advantage. Verbal sleight of hand. And it pays to know what everyone needs, because while he can and will find a buyer anything they desire, it’s information he deals in. Rumors, secrets, and gossip. A lot of it never pans out, but some of it? Sometimes he’s caught completely off guard, like now. Staring at the impossible little human that just blipped into what seems be very painful existence with a choked cry almost in his hands as he’s sorting through inventory. Because apparently that big moron with Krok’s rambling had been true not just his flavor of crazy. Who’d have guessed?

• Eyes streaming as your whole body burns without flames, you’re only dimly aware of falling and hitting something warm. Just curling into yourself, there’s a feeling of pins and needles running through you as you struggle to suck in a breath. What was that? Head lifting slightly, you stare uncomprehendingly at four big cylinders inches from your face, making a noise when they curl toward you and you crane your neck. Because those are hands. And they belong to a monster staring down at you in surprise. There’s no thought beyond getting away, trying to fling yourself out of this thing’s hand. Falling headfirst into a slightly musty smelling mountain of clothes.

• For a tiny thing, you’re surprisingly fast and hard to hold onto. Trying to burrow into his inventory to avoid him, but finally he catches you by a leg and drags you out. Braces for the screaming, but your expression is pure calculation as you twist and try to wiggle free. “Alright, Squishy. Spill. How’d you get on my ship?” Because that’s what he needs. Intel.

• Ship as in space ship? Because this thing gripping you by a leg is definitely not from your planet. You can’t be on his ship. You’d been at work, right? This is definitely not where you’d been only minutes before, though. If big and scary didn’t beam you up, how’d you get here? There’s no time to puzzle it out, because he’s hauling you up by a leg. “Put me down or I’ll lay eggs in you,” you blurt out, feeling like an absolute idiot, because this thing obviously knows about humans. It was human clothes you were rooting through, after all. And that’s what you’d gone with?

• You’re lying to a liar? Lips twitching he vents in amusement. “That so, human? You’re really going to try to con me?” So maybe he doesn’t know that much about actual humans aside from the general squishiness, but he can tell a liar when he sees one. And you’re bad at this. “Try again.”

• Dangling there feeling the blood rushing to your head, you just give up and flip him off with both hands, because if you’re going to die anyway it might as well be with one last petty bit of rebelliousness. And he laughs, nearly dropping you back in the clothes. “You know what? I think we might be able to work together to make a profit,” he says, optics narrowing as his grin widens. Not sure what to make of him or any of this craziness. Then he does drop you into the pile, still laughing as you yelp.

Next

[doumadono]

Hey, I think the autumn depression is starting to hit me hard. Could I request a piece where Dabi and Tomura react to the reader wearing a hoodie with their faces on it? The hoodie is themed after them or smth like that. Thanks in advance, I love your writing < 3

A/N: the artworks featured on this banner were commissioned by me from @explosion-island ♡

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

Tomura Shigaraki

Tomura doesn’t notice at first. He’s too busy clicking his controller, red eyes glued to the screen as his fingers twitch with that signature mix of intensity and irritation.

You wander into the room wearing the hoodie - a soft gray thing with his face emblazoned across the front in a chaotic design that almost looks hand-drawn. Red streaks, a distorted Decay handprint, and his glare immortalized in high contrast. You swear you can feel him in the artwork, sharp and raw.

“Tomura,” you call, tugging at the hem like you’re self-conscious but trying not to show it. “What do you think?”

“What?” He doesn’t even look, just mutters distractedly. The clicks grow louder. “You’re blocking the-”

Then his eyes flicker over, and the game is forgotten. His head tilts as his lips part slightly, not quite forming words. He stares, red irises narrowing in disbelief, then widening like he’s been thrown off his axis.

“… The hell is that?” His tone wavers between incredulity and disbelief, a hand twitching at his side like he’s considering scratching his neck but resists.

You don’t answer, only twirl dramatically to show off the back, which boasts King of Decay in jagged, white letters over black fabric. You bite your lip to keep from laughing outright, but his reaction - jaw tight, eyes narrowing - is worth every second.

“Got it custom-made. Pretty cool, huh?”

Tomura doesn’t say anything. He leans back into the couch cushions, arms crossing as his expression sharpens. “It’s stupid,” he mutters, almost too quietly. “Why would you wear something like that?”

You don’t miss the way his knuckles twitch against his sleeves, betraying how flustered he is. “Because it’s you, obviously,” you reply, stepping closer. “Why, don’t you like it?”

He growls low in his throat, almost defensive. “I didn’t say that.”

“You think it’s cute,” you tease, leaning down slightly, your grin unstoppable.

He shifts uncomfortably, cheeks tinged faintly pink. “Shut up. Go sit down or something, you’re annoying. Still can't believe you've bought it.”

You grin, stepping into his space. “Oh, I didn’t just buy it. I commissioned it.”

He snorts, shaking his head in something like exasperation, but the faintest flicker of color rises to his cheeks. “You’re such an idiot, Y/N,” he mutters, though his lips twitch like he’s holding back a smile.

“And you love it,” you shoot back, adjusting the hoodie’s oversized hood to frame your face. “Admit it, Tomura - it’s iconic.”

His gaze flits over the ridiculous design again, his lips parting as if to argue, but he only sighs.

But later, as you sit beside him, his hand creeps over the edge of your hoodie, tugging gently at the fabric between his fingers. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look your way.

Yet when you catch him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, it’s not annoyance you see - it’s something softer, like he’s not sure how to admit he likes it.

"Admit you like it!" You tease.

Shigaraki sighs again, a fleeting touch against the sleeve as he rubs you there. “Next time,” he says softly, barely audible, “get me one, too, my little number one fan.”

Dabi

You hear him before you see him - his signature low whistle trailing through the cramped hideout as he strolls in. It’s a sharp contrast to the steady autumn rain tapping against the windows, and for a moment, it distracts you from the heaviness you’ve been carrying all day.

“What’s this?” Dabi drawls, his voice dripping with amusement as he rounds the corner. His sharp blue eyes immediately lock on you, slouched on the couch in a dark hoodie that practically swallows you whole. His hoodie. Or rather, his face on the hoodie.

“You like it?” you ask, pulling the fabric taut across your torso so the graphic is on full display. The design is bold - blueish flames licking at the edges of a stylized portrait of his scarred face, his name scrawled underneath in jagged letters. It is paired with bold text above his portrait that reads Keep it Hot.

He leans against the doorway, arms crossed, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “Didn’t think you were the type to wear something this gaudy. Is this supposed to be flattering, or are you just trying to embarrass me?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance, but the glint in your eyes gives you away. “Maybe both?”

Dabi strides over, his boots heavy on the floor, and stops just short of the couch. He towers over you for a moment, looking down at the hoodie, then your face. His grin sharpens. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters, plopping down beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Don’t act like you’re not into it,” you shoot back.

"Should I start signing autographs now, or are we saving that for later?”

You glance up at him, a smirk playing at your lips. “Jealous? I could’ve bought the Hawks hoodie instead.”

"You’d look ridiculous in that flashy bird crap. But this?” He gestures lazily at your hoodie. “This screams taste. You’ve got a thing for bad boys, huh?”

You just roll your eyes, still grinning.

“You’re fucking obsessed,” he adds, leaning closer with a mock-serious expression. “You’ve got my face, my flames, my name on you. What’s next? A shrine in the closet? Maybe a tattoo? Ooh, how about-”

“Dabi.” You give him a look, but your lips are twitching.

He hums, tilting his head. “Relax, doll. I’m flattered, really."

You shake your head, laughing despite yourself, as he stretches out beside you, looking every bit like the smug bastard he is. “My sweet, little number one fan,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, but the teasing lilt never quite fades as he gently scratches your nape.

[munsonsreputation]

I should hate you was so good I feel like screaming omg I am OBSESSED WITH YOUR FICS !!!'!!!!

THE MORNING AFTER

anon, it's your lucky day!!! im a total idiot that forgot to include the morning after scene...so here ya go!!! if you want to read part one, check it out here <3

steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, mentions of sex, overall fluff and humor hehehe

summary: eddie and jonathan catch you and steve in a pretty awkward position, too bad they saw it coming and all they really want to do is figure out who's the winner of their stupid little bet -- you and steve just want to take each other in...and steve wants to hear you call him 'baby' again and again.

The sun had risen nearly an hour ago, the cold air just barely dissipating with the warmth of the present rays, but the sun wasn’t the only one greeting you with good morning. Jonathan and Eddie remained outside Steve’s tent, ogling at the sight of you and Steve laying not just in the same vicinity, but literally in each other’s arms.

“They didn’t sleep together, Ed—” Jonathan attempted to reason, getting cut short by Eddie of course.

The metal head tsked his tongue noisily, glaring, “How’re you gonna say that when she’s wearing his t-shirt and her shorts are over there in the corner?” He pointed to the garments that looked to be thrown around in a haste.

A sexual haste, that is.

Jonathan shrugged, swallowing thickly, “M-maybe she got cold and–”

“You’re telling me someone who got cold in the middle of the night just decided to put on a big ole t-shirt but completely strip off her pants?” Eddie cackled loudly, nudging his shoulder, “Now you’ve got to either be the stupidest—”

Steve roused awake, eyes stretching themselves open to figure out that the hell all the bickering was about especially so early in the morning. It only took him a few seconds to realize that his tent was unzipped, his two friends staring at him like nothing strange was going on.

“What the fuck, guys!” Steve broke before immediately sealing his mouth shut, realizing that you were still fast asleep beside him, literally clinging to his torso.

Jonathan waved him off, gesturing out to calm Steve down, “Chill dude, your dick isn’t out or anything, but even if it was, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”

Eddie smirked, eyes flashing to your figure that was only half covered with the blanket due to your tossing and turning during the night.

“We can however see her ass cheeks hanging ou—”

Steve’s eyes grew, drawing down to your body that had kicked off some of the blanket during your sleep. The lace of your underwear peeking out along with some skin that was only supposed to be for Steve’s eyes. He quickly draped most of the blanket over the exposed skin, hoping they didn’t see too much of you.

“Get the fuck out!” He hissed sharply, pointing at his friends hoping they would just listen to him for once.

But alas, the commotion had interrupted your dream, groaning as you rubbed at your eyes and wiggled under the covers.

“What’s going on?” You mumbled before yawning out.

“Good morning!” Eddie started enthusiastically, clapping his hands together to fully get you awake and then Jonathan spoke up.

“Mind telling us if you guys just ended up making out last night or if you went all the way, cause we kinda made a bet and now we need to figure out who owes who what.”

Your eyes widened, neck snapping up at them as Steve whispered a curt apology that fell on your deaf ears. The last thing you wanted was for any of your friends to find you this way, not that it was embarrassing to be seen in such a state with Steve… you just didn’t want them to find out like this.

Obviously, that plan failed horribly.

“You guys clearly lack personal space and privacy don’t you?” You glared, pulling the covers up to your collarbones attempting to hide like that would make them forget the scene in front of them.

Eddie beamed like a prick he was crossing his arms over his chest. “Just answer the question, sweetheart.”

“Here’s my answer… fuck off!” You flipped them the bird, having enough of their teasing as you stretched up to push them away and zip the tent shut before you fell back into the pillow.

Steve couldn’t help but snort, shaking his head at the voices that quieted in the distance, his two friends still arguing over the stupid bet.

“I think you found two new people to take your anger out on,” Steve snickered, folding his arms across your hips and nuzzling his face into your neck.

You sighed, craning your neck out to give Steve more room to place random kisses across your skin, something you didn’t know you were missing out on for so long. For your first morning waking up beside Steve, he sure did know how to make you want more.

“Jonathans too nice and Eddie’s just an idiot sometimes.” You answered with the roll of your eyes that he didn’t see.

“So am I still your most hated?” He teased, poking at your ribcage making your jolt and you smacked his chest.

He came out of hiding, head tilting up at you to hear your answer. “You should be…” you bit your lip, “but I’m afraid you’re actually gonna be my new favorite.”

“Already?” He wiggled his brows with a smirk, shoulders shimmying under the covers in some sort of lame victory dance.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Harrington.” You retorted, poking his cheek.

He pouted, taking your hand in his, “No c’mon, call me that other name…” He insisted, or more like whined, kissing your knuckles with a self indulgent smile on his face.

“Baby,” you murmured, giving into him with the smile gently taking over your features, “Don’t flatter yourself, baby.”

He grinned, holding your cheeks in his palms, kissing you softly, “I’ll try not to. No promises, though.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: it is so like me to forget to paste this scene into the actual fic 😭 thankfully it all worked out and posting it as a blurb is actually a pretty good idea since i want to expand on steve and reader hehehe. im thinking of opening up my request for some blurbs with these two because writing for them is so fun!!! let me know what you think and thank you so much for all the love and support 💫🩷

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[yayll]

~ a little something about the complicated way you and Dazai acknowledge each other's feelings ~

"We can't let it end like this. We simply can't."

"Dazai, what are you talking about? I'm literally just going on my lunch break."

"... I'll find a way for us to be together! Someday!"

You've been bickering back and forth with him ever since you stepped foot in the agency this morning, or more like he's been performing a whiney one sided narrative that you and your co-workers are more than familiar with. Though it's only ever directed at you. The confusing declarations of love, the lack of personal space, and then there are the days he won't even look or speak to you at all. It was emotional whiplash, but you did your best to drown out the feelings he evoked in you.

Dangerous ones you wouldn't dare indulge in, because if so, you get the feeling your heart would never recover from a man like Dazai. You grab your wallet, and push in your desk chair when he calls out to you once more in a much more serious tone, one that sounds bored.

"If you must leave, will you please pick up something on your way back for me?"

"What is it this time?"

"Bandages, I suppose"

He says that like it's an afterthought, like he couldn't care less for whatever he was asking for.

He's been asking you to go on odd little shopping trips for him for weeks now, and you being the dog you are, say yes every single time. You think about how Dazai loathes dogs. It makes you physically ill the way you feel about him. Whatever it is. You nod, and reply softly.

"Okay. Sure."

"So compliant! If I didn't know any better l'd say you're madly in love with me. Should we run off into the sunset and get married?"

You simply stare at his sardonic smile for a long while, and he stares back. It's like you're sending each other psychic waves, secret messages only you two could decode. Only you two could fathom. He stares into you with that piercing gaze of his, the one that might as well call you an idiot for ever thinking there's a real person behind his heavenly face. His eyes are pretty, they make yours feel dull in comparison. After a while, a faint half smile creeps onto your lips, trying to feign the same indifference as his. You fail, obviously.

"Mm, sounds too hopeful, even for you."

"Yikes! Right you are. Commitment. How awful.... No one wants that kind of trouble."

Dazai states cruelly, leaning back into his chair at his desk, arms crossed. He has to bite down to keep from smiling and giggling like a fool, as this is exactly what he wishes would happen.

His heart flutters for a brief moment at the visual of such a fantasy, such privilege to have you forever. He knows how badly you secretly want this too, but he doesn't plan on putting you out of your misery just yet. Shame on you to think of him as a real person who's allowed to pursue the things he wants! He continues when he sees you've gone completely silent, standing with your keys in your hand like a mannequin.

"Besides, I'm sure you've met plenty of other guys that are far more suitable for you. I mean, look at me, I used to be a criminal." He winks at you, hinting at his sketchy past. He's such a fantastic performer when he's at his worst.

"... And no one wants that kind of trouble, right?" You echo his past words back to him, once again failing to match his rejection.

"Oh you wretched little creature. Right again!"

You can't take much of this any longer, smiling politely as you simply turn around, and walk out of the agency. Your eyes sting.

Dazai just sits there, staring at the door, counting the seconds until you're back. He rests his chin on his palm, unblinking. He taps his fingers on the desk, and lets out a deep sigh. It's all he does, all he looks forward to every single day you leave.

You finally come back nearly an hour later, carrying a small bag and leftovers from your lunch. He lights up like the moon during the clearest night sky, and stands up immediately. His demeanor completely changes as he flashes you a delighted grin, rushing to you.

"You're back~"

"Yeah, here are your bandages."

"My what?"

"The bandages you asked for..?"

His eyes widen for a moment, and then he chuckles, shaking his head. He flicks his own forehead.

"Of course! Thank you. Now, may I have the receipt as well?"

He looks excited, his open palm cupped in front of you, as if you were giving him a treat. You raise a brow and shrug, handing him the crumpled piece of paper. You don't even question it anymore. He frowns. You think he looks like a disgruntled little kid.

"Ugh. You wrinkled it."

"What? Why does it matter?"

"Well I obviously wanted to keep it, silly goose."

You try to make sense of what he could possibly mean, and you decide it's not worth getting into. You can't afford the heartache nor the brain cells.

"That's the weirdest thing you've ever asked me."

"Not true. I've never asked you for a kiss~"

You almost drop to the floor with the way his eyes darken, despite his tone being the complete opposite. You stare at him yet again for what feels like ages, your heart set ablaze, with Dazai being the pyromaniac who won't let your embers die out of his own amusement. Your voice comes out low, meek.

"Well I'm clearly not the person you dream of, so no."

You could swear his awful smirk falls off just a tiny bit, but any evidence of that is gone in a blink of an eye. His voice comes out soft and laced with a hint of honeyed bitterness.

"And if you weren't, l'd dream of you anyway."

He mutters under his breath as he looks out the window, as if you weren't supposed to hear that. the sun is slowly setting and the moon will illuminate soon after. He wishes he could see what you look like at night.

You roll your eyes because if you don't, you'll bury your face in his chest and sob. Oh, he's the worst. You put on your best cynical voice followed by a scoff.

"That's lovely, Dazai."

"You look lovely." He states simply, still looking at the way the moon ghosts in the sky.

"... Thank you."

"It's my pleasure." He murmurs, solemnly. In that moment, you don't catch it, but he's telling you he loves you too.

And just like that, you slowly walk past him and sit at your desk. You might have a stroke, but you still have reports to finish.

Dazai quietly does the same, sitting down and opening a drawer, and then a secret compartment within it. He glances at you for a moment, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he flashes you an exaggerated smile when you catch him looking, then turns his attention back down, the smile dropping.

He places the wrinkled receipt into a larger stack of countless other receipts, all from past errands you've run for him lately. He smoothes it carefully, for it is a priceless sentiment amongst his collection of the things you so graciously give him. It's pathetic, but it's like holding your hand. It's like kissing you. It's like true love.

[breadbrobin]

blanket hog

tim drake x reader — dc / batfam

[gn!reader]

summary: you’d never been close with tim, but now you were sharing a bed—too close. far too close—and you didn’t know what to think

warnings: light swearing, sharing a bed (ONE BED TROPE MY BELOVED), idiots in love, kissing, is my writing good? idk anymore

word count: 1.7k

(this was meant to be in two parts but it’s way shorter than i thought it was when i was writing it lmao. anyway happy birthday tim drake!)

—————————————

if tim drake was a magnet you were his polar opposite. that much you knew for sure. rather than draw you in, he repelled you backwards, unfazed by his ceo smile and somehow perfect hair. it was his unnerving ice-blue eyes that seemed to look through you and his fumbling words that pushed you back. there was something in his stare, and it made your cheeks burn and your heart race, and you didn’t like it. if you could’ve stayed away, you would have.

but fate was a fickle thing.

and when blankets were hogged, you’d fight tooth and nail not to freeze to death.

it had been an easy decision to share the queen-sized bed. the hotel room was small—a bed, a dresser and a bathroom alone—and none of his siblings had wanted to share with him. steph and cass took the only other double room in the small-town in, leaving you with no choice. there wasn’t even any floor space.

“we can take shifts?” tim had suggested, his cheeks uncharacteristically pink.

you’d told him not to be ridiculous, and then you’d had to practically tackle him into the bed to get him to sleep at all.

finally, the room was filled with only soft breathing as you drifted off, warm and cosy in the surprisingly soft sheets.

and then you were cold.

what?

your sleepy eyes blinked open and you frowned. did someone open the window? your sleep addled brain hadn’t put the pieces together just yet. your fingers tightened around the blankets you had pulled against your—ah. that was the issue.

you frowned and rolled onto your back, reaching around to find them. where did they go?

there! you connected. how did they get there? no matter.

you pulled the blankets loosely, but they barely budged. you frowned again. what the hell?

you blinked in the darkness, peering at the shape in the bed next to you. it came rushing back. tim drake. typical. you had to be bunking with the blanket hog.

you pulled the blankets harder, to no avail. you gritted your teeth and dug your heels in (metaphorically), pulling with all your might and hoping they wouldn’t rip. sure, bruce could pay for the replacement, but you’d feel bad.

finally, the blankets came wrapping around you. you rolled back onto your side as you pulled them tight to your chin. then an arm was around your waist. then there was a warm breath on the back of your neck.

oh.

tim’s chest was pressed loosely against your back. he was still gripping the blankets too, obviously dragged by your pulling. you shifted for a moment, but his grip on you only tightened. fabulous.

your heart raced—why did your heart race?—and your palms sweated slightly. it wasn’t hot, but you felt all warm and fuzzy, like you’d just had a big cup of tea. it was tim. even if he wasn’t like a furnace, you realised he’d warm you like this. finally, you let yourself relax into his embrace.

you’d deal with that in the morning, and just hope no one came in before you woke up.

the morning was warm and cosy. you didn’t think too hard about why. there was sunlight streaming onto your body through a gap in the curtains and the blankets were warm and—what was that?

it felt like a breath of air against your skin. you opened your eyes and immediately slammed them closed again.

oh. right.

tim.

throughout the night, you’d clearly managed to roll in his grip until you were face to face. his arm was loose around your waist, hand tangled slightly in your sleep shirt. your legs were tangled with his. your stomach lurched with something unknown, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

you opened your eyes slowly, tentatively, and—

oh.

you were thinking that a lot lately.

it was rare to see tim without a tense frown on his face. it aged him, made him look more stressed and intense. but now… his face was soft with sleep, lips parted just so. oh god, your stomach fluttered.

maybe that was why you’d never been able to be comfortable around him. were you…? no. surely not, right?

as if your thoughts were probing into his dreams, tim stirred slightly. the arm around your body tightened for a second, and his eyebrows twitched. your breath caught in your throat and you snapped your eyes closed again. you really didn’t want to look at him when he woke up, but a soft sigh came from his lips, then a gasp, and he retracted his arm like he’d been burned. you felt instantly colder as he jerked backwards.

you looked up him as he sat up abruptly.

he had a shell-shocked look on his face. scandalised, even. his eyes—startlingly blue—met yours. “i’m so sorry.” his voice was soft and rough with sleep.

you had to swallow tightly before you could reply. “it’s okay.”

“i don’t—“ he shook his head and rubbed his face. “i shouldn’t have—“

“you kinda grabbed me when i pulled the blankets back last night.” you admitted quietly, sitting up too.

“oh.” he said dumbly.

“yeah. blanket hog.” you shot him a small smile.

that seemed to break the tension. he smiled back. “shut up.”

“does koala fit better?”

he groaned and flopped back down onto the bed, covering his face. “i said i was sorry.”

“and i said it was okay.” you shot back immediately, watching him with a small smile. you didn’t quite know what it meant, but you did know that there was something different between you now. it was like you’d broken through the previous tension to discover something more. worse? better? you didn’t know yet.

he opened his eyes and peered at you between his fingers. “you’re not upset?”

“why would i be? it was cold. you’re like a furnace.” you shrugged, deciding to play it cool.

he sat up again and pushed his hands through his hair. it fell back in front of his face. your fingers twitched like you wanted to push it back again. “right. yeah.”

you found yourself studying his face. when he wasn’t looking stressed or exhausted, he was actually really pretty, you realised. obviously, you objectively knew that—the tabloids did a great job of describing how pretty he was (not that you read them, no way)—but you’d never taken the time to see it yourself.

he shifted under your gaze. “what?”

“nothing.” you said sharply, turning your head away. you leaned back against the rickety headboard. he followed suit.

there was silence for a long while. you fiddled with your fingers, not looking at him. you could feel his gaze on your profile, probing and studying and examining you like you were a piece of evidence at a crime scene.

finally, you let your eyes dart back to him.

he wasn’t looking at your eyes.

there was a rush that went through you as his piercing eyes flashed between your lips and eyes. your breath caught and you looked away again, before you could do anything stupid.

“why don’t you like me?” he asked softly. “i mean… you act like you hate me. why?”

“i don’t hate you.” you said softly.

he scoffed. “yeah, i know that. why do you act like you hate me?”

you were silent for a moment. you could feel tim’s gaze on your face again. “i don’t know. i think it’s because…” you swallowed your pride. “you always look like you want to say something to me, but you never do. i think i felt like you didn’t like me.”

“i do.” he said in a rush, the words spilling out of him. “i do like you. i don’t know why i can’t seem to talk to you like a normal person, but i just…”

you looked over at him with a small smile. “you’re doing a pretty good job right now, for a boa constrictor.”

he groaned and laughed a little, shaking his head. “you’re terrible.”

“seriously i think you cut off my circulation.”

“very funny.”

“i’ll sue you for my medical bills when i have to amputate from the lack of blood flow.”

“i’ll pay them anyway.” his voice was soft. it sounded like a confession.

your heart fluttered. “so you admit guilt?”

he nodded slightly. his eyes weren’t so piercing in the warm dimness of the hotel room. they were warmer, softer, more gentle. or maybe that was just the way he was looking at you. “and i’d do it again.”

yesterday, you would have laughed at him and kept joking. today… you bit down a smile. “i think i’d allow that.”

he didn’t hide his smile. “yeah?”

you let yours show a little too. “yeah, i guess.”

“and if i were to maybe kiss you? would you allow that?” he asked softly, barely above a whisper. his eyes dropped to your lips again.

your heart climbed into your throat and did a little dance. you nodded. “yeah, i suppose i could allow that.”

for a moment, you wondered if this was a good idea. if this would backfire on you. if this would result in pain and loss and not to mention hours of teasing from steph about getting her ‘sloppy seconds’. if this would end terribly and ruin your entire dynamic with the bats, who you’d only just started working with.

and then tim’s lips were on yours and your mind went blissfully blank.

you sighed into the kiss, your hand coming up to his chest.

the kiss was brief, but as his lips pulled away from yours, your hand tightened on the collar of his shirt and pulled him back to you.

after all that time not understanding what these feelings were, you finally got why your cheeks burned and your heart raced and why he could never talk properly around you.

god, it all made sense, and his fingers in your hair and cupping your jaw were exactly where they were meant to be. the knock on the door only drew you back to reality for a moment before his lips were on yours again, and again, and again, and you realised you could stay there for a lifetime. you’d be happy to.

[dancingdonatello]

Hii can i request a female reader x rise donnie where they come over to the lair in a oversized sweater but its like a males sweater and a couple sizes to big, its not Donnie’s so donnie get all insecure/upset maybe thinks readers cheating in him to find out its reader older male cousins sweater and him to be kinda like “😃😅 oh oops”

rise donatello x female reader

Donnie has been observing you for the past hour. He’s kept his distance for the day, upsetting and confusing you. But he remains away from you, just staring.

You had decided to give him space since obviously he had something going on.

He’s been staring at you for a reason. Your sweater. It’s several sizes too big for your frame. It doesn’t smell like you. It doesn’t smell like him. It smells like a foreign male.

And that makes everything in him scream wrong.

You should only wear HIS things. You should only smell like HIM.

You know how good his smell is. You know he’s not an idiot. Do you think he’s just going to let it slide that you’re wearing some other man’s sweater?

“Whose is that?” he finally storms up to you when you’re alone in the kitchen, cornering you against the cabinets. “Why are you wearing that? Did you think I would just pretend that you weren’t?”

“My shirt?” you ask, completely oblivious. “That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”

“Whose is it?” he asks again, growing slightly angrier. How dare you act all innocent—

“It’s my cousin’s,” you say, looking a little annoyed. “Did you seriously think that I would cheat on you? And wear their sweater here?”

Embarrassment crawls up from his stomach into his face. He can feel the heat rolling off of him in waves.

He decides to double down. “You still should only wear what’s mine,” he grumbles, grabbing your arm and tugging you into his room.

Once you’re covered in his purple crew neck and the other shirt is tossed to the side, he finally relaxes. You’re still mad, but he’ll find a way to make it up to you.

[posting-for-the-void]

So a lot of twins claim to have a sort of twintuition thing where they understand each other easily and often without words, and sometimes have high-level empathetic reactions to things that are happening to the other twin, even if they don’t know what’s happening to the other twin because they are in different locations at the time. There’s obviously not a lot of scientific evidence to back it up, but, eh. It’s a cool concept.

But what if, for the Skywalker twins, the force just ramped that up to 100.

Fic-ish thing below the cut.

Five-year-old Luke is learning the Tatooine slave language. After all, Aunt Beru used to be Beru Whitesun, before she married Uncle Owen, and his mom was Grandma Shmi, who used to be a Skywalker before she married Uncle Owen’s dad. Beru helps the recently-escaped hide in the secret compartment in the wall of their house more often than Owen does, but he claims it’s for plausible deniability, whatever that means. Leia, on Alderaan, begins mixing the harsh, clicking language with Basic subconsciously, but only when talking to herself in private. After all, she is a princess, and they must choose their words carefully in front of others.

Leia at age ten argues with her cousin about whether droids deserve respect, and across the galaxy, Luke is absolutely overcome with the need to thank every single droid he’s ever met for helping him with anything (he did this anyways before but for some reason he has to do it again Right Now).

Luke gets to drive a speeder by himself for the first time at 13 and Leia is practically begging for someone to take her out in a hovercar and go as fast as possible. And if that can’t happen she’s going to get the space equivalent of a Formula One racing sim, goddamnit.

Seventeen-year-old Junior Senator Leia’s heart skips a beat every time someone mentions Tatooine. She isn’t sure why. Obi-Wan lives there, yes, but something in her just knows that isn’t the real reason. Luke, meanwhile, yearns to see the galaxy, and often finds himself outside at night, staring at the sky. His eyes, for as long as he can remember, have always felt drawn towards a specific star. He asked Uncle Owen about it once when he was younger, and he gruffly explained that it was the Alderaan system. He feels like there’s something there, waiting for him. He’s not sure why.

And then they meet in person, and it’s “You’re a little short for a Stormtroope—Luke?”

“Leia?”

“Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so. Can I hug you?”

“Of course, you idiot. You’re my twin brother. You don’t even have to ask.”

“Thanks, Leia. You know, I had the weirdest dreams when I was ten about you and Old Ben.”

“Oh, yeah, that was actually real. I got kidnapped.”

“Cool.”

“Is it true you got nicknamed ‘Wormie’ by your friends?”

“…Yeah.”

And Han is so confused, but it’s fine, and within two hours their conversations are more like, “Hey, Leia, could you pass me the—“

“Yeah, do want the green one or the—“

“No, the blue one, probably. I need it to—“

“Oh, yeah, of course, that makes sense.”

And then Yoda tries to do the whole “Attached, you are,” routine, and Luke is like, “Well, duh. I’m only here so I can teach Leia everything I learn as soon as I get back. I’m just a pilot, which is a lot more replaceable than a princess, so we thought it would be best if I come learn from you instead of her.”

And meanwhile Leia is a lot stronger in the force now, and she meets Vader again and just goes, “Darth Dad, what the actual fuck,” under her breath in the Tatooine slave language, and the hint of Anakin that’s left absolutely freezes. Because Palpatine—Sideous—whatever, he said his kid was dead. He said that Padme died and the kid did too. He lied. And, when he meets Luke later, and he says the same Sithspitting thing, Anakin gets so thrown he accidentally cuts the kid’s hand off. Luke falls, and the shock of it in the force is so strong, and Anakin’s eyes flash blue in grief and love and hope, all at once, and all of the sudden he can think clearly for the first time in years. And his kids’—his kids!—bond in the force is so strong, how did he not notice it before?

And, anyways, I just feel like Skywalker Twintuition would be on a completely other and incomprehensible level.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 20

part 1 | part 19 | ao3

"Eddie! Hey!" he brightens. Tells himself to take it down a notch; schools his face and voice into something a little less pathetically eager. “What’s up, man?” 

“Not much, dude,” Eddie teases, one dimple popping out. He looks good. Dressed up. Red and black flannel with the top buttons undone; light dusting of chest hair on pale skin, the edge of a tattoo Steve’s never seen. He’s got his black leather jacket and black jeans with no holes and black riding boots on. All he’s missing is a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm.

“What’s with the, uh…?” Steve gestures to his outfit, because he realizes he’s sort of just been staring at the dip of his throat. Eddie raises an eyebrow. Steve clarifies, “You got a date or something?” 

“Oh, this?” Eddie laughs. “Uh, no. Nope. Can’t say that I do.”

He hops up backward onto the counter, his ass right next to Steve’s elbow, legs dangling over the edge, and he ignores Steve’s protests to get down from there as he leans in to ask in a mischievous hush, “Can you keep a secret?” 

Steve’s breath catches in his throat, twists into a bitter twinge of nerves. He can keep a lot of secrets. Maybe he learned that from his dad.

“Yeah…?” He leans in on his elbows.

Eddie moves in closer still, cups his hand around his mouth and whispers, “I totally forgot to do laundry last week.” 

Oh, my god. “You’re an idiot,” Steve laughs. “That’s your big confession?” 

Eddie’s smile widens. “Yeah. I got distracted with rehearsals. This was the only clean shit I had left.” He kicks one leg out straight to show off his boot. “I’m only wearing these so you can’t tell I don’t have socks on.”

“Gross!” Steve laughs harder and shoves at Eddie, who tumbles theatrically over the edge of the counter, flinging himself to the ground and rolling onto his back so he can fake a couple death spasms and then lie there with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a fucking weirdo. “You’re so weird.” 

“This night sucked before I showed up, and you know it,” Eddie says from the floor. He opens one eye to wink at Steve, then he gives one final death twitch and drops the act, popping back up to mirror Steve’s pose, elbows propped on the counter between them. 

Steve’s arm hair stands on end. “How was your show, anyway?” 

“Oh, it was greeeat,” Eddie says. “Drunk assholes yelling slurs at me, Gareth barfing in the bushes. Standard Hideout gig.”

"Was someone harassing you?" Steve frowns. He knows the Hideout's a shithole — a ‘dependable dumpster fire where we practice for the gigs that actually pay us,’ as Eddie had put it — but he thought the people there were, like, accepting, or whatever.

Surely Eddie's style isn't any more out there than the rest of the regulars.

"Holster your eyebrows," Eddie sighs, "it was fine. Really.” 

“Holster my— dude, what?”

“Your eyebrows,” he repeats. He reaches out with the tip of his pointer finger and gently prods the space between them. “At ease, gentlemen.”

“So weird,” Steve says again. He rolls his eyes and swats Eddie’s hand away, and Eddie just laughs and says ‘There we go!’ because his antics actually did get Steve to unfurrow his face. Little bastard. “Were you gonna rent something, or…?”

“Hell no, my late fees are fucking ridic—”

Eddie cuts himself off, his eyes darting over Steve’s shoulder.

He goes skittish all of a sudden, starts backing toward the exit, stammering, “Ridiculously non-existent. Is, uh, is what I was gonna say. Obviously. Um. Right.” 

His back hits the front door, the bell jangling overhead, and before Steve gets a chance to ask what the hell his problem is now, Eddie starts rambling at triple speed that “Dustin wanted me to check in on you and now I have checked in on you so okay-gotta-go-bye” and practically sprints out of the store.

Doesn’t even look back to give Steve a parting wave. 

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

“What. the fuck…” Steve jumps a foot in the air at the sound of Robin’s voice. He whips around to look at her; realizes she must have been what spooked Eddie. Her nose and cheeks are bright red from the cold, her eyes bugging out of her head, and her jaw is halfway to the floor as she gapes at him, “...was that?”

—

part 21

tag list part 1 below cut comment if you want to be added tomorrow

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

[xmads-omensx]

PART 1

Word Count: 1,602

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: enemies to lovers, fake dating, swearing, Noah being an asshole, men being assholes

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @heyyoplayer

Noah and I hated eachother.

From the moment we met we were at eachother’s throats. We argued constantly, irritated eachother purposefully, made crude jokes about eachother behind the other’s back. It was largely childish behaviour but god did we piss eachother off.

Unfortunately for the both of us, we lived together.

Sure, Jesse and Jolly lived there too,  but it just wasn’t enough to keep away from eachother.

His favourite pastime was to barge into my room and ask if I had any spare toothpaste when I had a guy over, and he had caught me in a few… compromising positions.

My favourite pastime was to bang on his bedroom door when he had a girl over and ask where he wanted me to put his clean underwear, or ask if he had remembered his doctor’s appointment for that ‘weird rash’ he had been complaining about.

He hated me, and I hated him. That’s how we liked it.

Until it all went to shit. Because of Noah… obviously.

After a long day at the studio, the guys had decided that going to a local bar was a well-deserved reward for working so hard.

It was relatively busy in the bar.

A bachelorette party took up the majority of the space. Their laughter loud and cheerful as it bounced off of the walls. Four men sat at the relatively small bar and the booths were almost all taken or were waiting to be cleaned.

We weren’t fussy and took a seat at a booth not too far from the bachelorette party at one of the clean booths. It was a tight squeeze so Folio pulled up a spare chair to sit at the end.

Unfortunately for me, Noah was shoved right up next to me. His strong, tattooed bicep was pushed right up against my own, much smaller one.

I could feel his sneer burning into the side of my head as he crossed his arms, making my space even smaller than it already was. I knew that going to the bathroom or the bar would be a struggle for the rest of the night.

“I’m going to go order, y’all want your usuals?” Matt asked, standing up from where he was sat at the end of the booth.

A chorus of “yep” and “yeah” sounded before Matt turned and headed back to the bar.

Nick followed after Matt, as did Bryan, leaving a slightly looking scared Folio with myself and Noah who were being cautiously watched by the tall Swede.

“What.” Noah said, looking at Jolly expectantly.

“Nothing, just supervising.” He replied with a shrug.

“We don’t need supervising.” Noah snapped.

“Yes you do.” Jolly said with a laugh.

Noah rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

I stood up, heading to the bathroom before the guys came back, only to be greeted with a scowl from the tattooed man sat beside me.

“What.” He snapped.

“Can I get past please?” I asked.

“Why?” He snarled.

“Noah just let her past dude, you don’t need to be an ass about it. We’re here to have fun.” Jolly sighed, clearly tired of our bullshit.

After what felt like a never-ending stare down between Noah and Jolly, the tall mad swung his long limbs to the side to allow be past him.

The bathroom was peaceful. Quiet. Calm.

Probably since Noah wasn’t there to piss me off.

He was being extra pretentious tonight, even wearing his grillz out to the bar. He looked like an idiot. Hot, but an idiot.

The transition from the quiet bathroom to the loud bar was jarring as I made my way back towards the booth, Folio having waved at me as I exited, signalling that Matt had gotten me my drink.

Suddenly, a hand gripped my arm, pulling me in towards the bar slightly.

“Hey.” A deep, attractive voice growled.

“Hi?” I replied, confused and startled.

“Are you here alone?” He asked. Red flag number one.

“No, I’m with my friends.” I replied, trying to avoid where this conversation would inevitably end up going.

“How about you hang out with me, I’ll buy you a drink.” Red flag number two.

“No thanks, I’m good, my friends are waiting for me.” I replied as kindly as I possibly could.

“Just one drink.” He insisted, pulling me closer to him. Red flag number three.

“She said no, dipshit.” A voice snarled from behind me. Noah

What the fuck was he doing jumping to my defence like that?

“Who might you be?” The man asked, puffing his chest out as if to appear more intimidating.

“I’m her boyfriend.” Noah laughed.

MY WHAT.

I had to steel myself in order to not whip my head around to rip his off of his neck.

The man didn’t reply, but instead nodded and mumbled some sort of apology that I couldn’t quite make out.

Noah simply placed his hands on my shoulders and guided me back to the booth. Unfortunately for me, he didn’t let me sit down, and instead slid into the booth first before pulling me onto his lap.

“Go along with it, princess, he can’t know that we hate eachother.” He said with a smile before kissing my forehead.

I nodded, understanding that we needed to fake it for a little while.

As the night wore on, I began to be more comfortable sitting on Noah’s lap. His chest vibrated behind me as he talked to the others and laughed at what they were saying. His warmth seeped into me and I felt myself leaning back into his touch involuntarily. Almost like it was second nature to me.

His arms circled around my waist and pulled me in closer to his warm torso. His hold on me was secure, warm, safe and I never wanted to leave it.

My hatred toward him and by red hot desire to tear him limb from limb began to dissipate as the night wore on. It felt natural. Like we were made for eachother.

I couldn’t tell if Noah felt the same way about the situation, but based on the fact that I could feel his head move to glance over at the bar, I was fairly certain that he was waiting for the man to leave so that he could get me off of his lap.

The thought hurt me. I wasn’t sure why though. After all, we hated eachother, or at least we were supposed to.

Our hatred for eachother didn’t seem to have any origin. When we first met at a mutual friend’s house party, we got along perfectly fine, but after that we have been at each other’s throats.

Noah just randomly started being a total bitch with no explanation. To his credit, I hadn’t behaved any better than he did.

“What’s this about then?” Jolly finally asked, gesturing at my seat on Noah’s lap.

“Some dude at the bar was being as ass so Noah is pretending to be my boyfriend until he leaves.” I explained, sipping on my coke.

“Yep. As soon as he leaves I will be free from this hell.” He sneered, with a fake smile plastered across his face.

My heart winced at his words. I couldn’t explain it.

Jolly sent me a subtle unapologetic look before jumping back into conversation with the others.

Until Nick spoke up.

“Isn’t that guy at the bar our new merch dude?” Nick asked, gesturing at the bar.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

“Oh yeah. Steven hired him as an extra set of hands, you know how it can get.” Matt explained.

“Fuck.” “Fuck.” Noah and I whispered in unison.

Folio, being the lovable idiot that he is, waved the man over to join us at the booth. Noah and I tried to protest, saying that we didn’t want to intrude on his night, but Folio insisted. Before we knew it, the man that Noah and I were so desperate to be rid of, became a part of our lives for the next few months.

The rest of the night at the bar was spent getting to know the man, who’s name was Alex, as he introduced himself to the rest of us.

Noah pulled my body closer to his own, pressing gentle kisses on my cheek, shoulder and neck whenever he felt that Alex was looking in our direction, desperate to sell the lie that we had started.

“So how long have you two been together?” He asked us.

Noah and I hesitate, briefly looking at eachother before Noah answered.

“About two years, right babe?” He pinched my side gently, urging me to go along with whatever he said.

“Yeah, two amazing years.” I added with a smile.

The rest of the guys had split reactions of confused expressions, or pained attempts to hold back laughter at the thought of Noah and I dating.

Admittedly, the situation was rather hilarious.

The rest of the night continued with pained smiles and forced laughter as Noah and I played into the role of the happy couple.

Alex seemed to have bought it, so we didn’t think too much of it.

Unfortunately for us, we had to commit to our stupid and idiotic lie for even longer. Tour was fast approaching and being around Alex was going to be challenging.

Luckily, we weren’t going to be around him much, so we still had plenty of time to return to hating eachother.

Despite this, I still couldn’t shake that feeling I had at the bar.

Being in Noah’s arms like that felt right.

It felt good.

It felt like home.

[lemonlilactea]

Aaah emmrich/Rook wip

NSFW and unfinished and I'm bad at this

It's late, as far as he can tell. It's always hard to tell in the Lighthouse, but it seems most of the team is nestled away in their rooms, a soft quiet laying over the air. Emmrich left Lucanis in the kitchen, nursing his 3rd cup of coffee, to retire to his own room, noting that even Rook appeared to be resting as well. He was glad of it, knowing their leader often neglects their own care for the sake of the greater good, and they even brush it off when it's mentioned. With a sigh, he feels a wave of fondness for them, stubborn and strong as they are. 

His own room is warm, bright flames licking the stone, his books and trinkets filling the space. He even added a larger, comfier chair beside the little table holding his gift from Rook, that lovely statue they bought him. The chair is fit for two, if one is on the other's lap, at least, and they both quite enjoy spending time reading books curled into each other. Lately, of course, time is less and less available to them, and he sighs to himself, regretful. A blossoming romance, one to rival any garden, a fragrance of adoration lingering in his mind when they leave the room. Their skin, softer than any petals, and their eyes brighter than any bloom. Everything about them, Emmrich takes in wholly, and often. He's caught himself staring, likely looking a besotted fool, dreamy and far off as he gazes at their features in moonlight, or crackling flame.

As he moves toward the statue gift, his fingers trailing the details of the carved stone, a noise catches his attention. Quiet and muffled, it sounds like it comes from Rooks's room, through the cracks of the wall. Emmrich, ever naturally curious, takes the few steps to lean his ear toward the widest gap in the cold stone of the wall. It's quiet for a moment, and he thinks he may have imagined it, but there, again- a gasp, stuttered breathing. Sounds of motion and the familiar effort of staying quiet reach his ears, the effect of a hand muffling a moan one he knows well. Heat tears through him, and he has to brace a hand on the wall at the unexpected strength of sudden arousal. 

Rook is moaning, in their room. He'd have to be an idiot not to put the pieces together, they're obviously masturbating, he can hear another moan barely creep into his hearing. His own breathing has already quickened, and he has to swallow the lump in his throat.

He should step away, stop listening in. They would want privacy, they wouldn't want someone, him, listening in, would they? But he can't make himself do it. His hands clenched into fists against the wall, his head turned to keep an ear near the crack, feeling a chill breeze pass his skin, seeping into his Rooks's room. If only he could follow, simply ease through the gaps and caress their skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His lips, leaving a trail of kisses and marks, possessive and tender and- 

Before he can either stop himself or shake out of his reverie, something beyond a simple groan creeps through the crack. A word? Not quite, he thinks, straining to listen, no shred of shame for the way he's pressed against the wall, listening to his darling moan into empty air. 

‘Emmrich..’

His eyes widen, his jaw drops and he feels another searing round of heat clench his gut. They're calling his name, touching themself. They're thinking of him, just as he thinks of them in those nights where he'd rut into his fist, biting a pillow to muffle his own cries of their name. He almost has to gasp for air, the realization of the fact they want him just as badly as he needs them. 

Without thought, one of his hands falls from the wall to squeeze his length through the fabric of his trousers, the material a little strained by his growing interest. Emmrich has to actively remind himself to keep quiet, to keep his reactions to the unknown show to a soft whimper. He wishes he could see through the little gap in the wall, wishes he knew how they touched themself. If they'd let him touch like that. His hands, adorned in gold, trailing down the curve of their side, gripping the flesh of their thigh or gripping hard enough to bruise. The way he would revere them, every movement a ritual of adoration, a piece of proof of his devotion to them, to his Rook, his dearest.

Another moan from their room, louder now, as if they're losing the presence of mind to quiet themselves. His hips press into his hand, into the wall, and he leans his forehead to the cool stone to try and regain some kind of composure. It would be more possible if he couldn't hear the gasping breaths from Rook in the other room, the mental image of their lips parted and their eyes half lidded making him clench his jaw. They'd look lovely with a flush across their cheeks, and their chest, for that matter. A stunning, unique specimen, a prime example of everything he could possibly want, everything he craves. In truth, he's had to keep himself from distraction anytime they've shown any kind of skin, and it makes him feel all the more desperate for them. 

And gods, what would their touch be like? Would they want him to lead, or would they? Rook, their strong hands running through his hair, gripping his shoulders, trailing across the expanse of his constantly covered form. Their fingers, tracing teasingly along his waistband, under his shirt, across his chest…

He takes a shaky inhale, face half pressed into the stone as his hips roll into his own grip once more. A brief, quiet sound of his own tumbles from his lips like a drop of rain, hardly noticeable in the torrent of sensation that his body is providing. What he wouldn't give to tear this wall down, break the barrier between them so that he might show Rook in every feasible manner how much he wants. 

He can't help but let his hand begin to move against his length, pressing into the fabric roughly as his mind continues to paint a picture of lust, each movement a brushstroke in his mind, the image of his Rook laid below him, their chest heaving with breath. He can picture it, their hair below them like a halo, their fingers entwined with his. In his mind's eye, his teeth graze their neck just as a real gasp slips through the wall again, as if they can feel his imagined motions.

A stuttered breath of his own makes him lean into the wall and pause, needing to recenter and think. Is this a terrible idea, getting himself off at the whimpers and groans through a crack in the stone? Would he be able to look at them after without the echo of their pleasure in his mind? And, oh, what would they think if they saw him like this? Desperate, pathetic little whines into the stone, his body pressing itself forward to find any kind of pressure, anything more. Would they stare, their eyes raking over his form, watching his attempts to be quiet while his hand shoves into the fabric, the metal of his rings meeting hot flesh with yet another noise he tries to muffle. 

He has to turn, his back meeting the wall, head leaned back, his teeth biting into the gloved hand covering his own mouth. He wants to be quiet, not to be unheard but so he can strain to listen to the next gasp from Rook’s room. How he wished he could be there, even just watching them as their hands trace along their own skin, deft fingers finding pleasure where they so wish. Those fingers on him, what they might do…Their verbal teasing translating to how they touch him, never quite where he’d want. Emmrich feels his back arch from the wall and his grip tighten around his length, his next breathy gasp matching the one next door. Between moments, he can hear their voice again, a soft plea. ‘Emmrich, please, fuck…’ And if that doesn’t make his jaw drop, along with his gut, stalling his movements lest he finish far sooner than he’d like to admit. In his hazy mind he almost laughs, Rook once again making him feel far younger than his years in so many ways. Instead he inhales a breath that catches in his throat, eyelids fluttering as his hand starts to resume the slow glide up and down, the metal rings adding a tantalizing sensation to the motion. 

He feels near insane, his body in control and his head addled with lust, with need. An inferno under his skin, crawling through his veins, a fire started by Rook, and one that could only ever be quenched by them. 

[honey-milk-depresso]

dating HCs for Clotted Cream and Stardust Cookie?

CRK Dating HCS with Clotted Cream and Stardust!

Clotted Cream Cookie

He’s a sucker for classy, candlelit dinner dates, so he would definitely do that with you.

He’d probably sneak the two of you out of the convocation building to the garden outside, to the place he usually goes to have time for himself.

Clotted Cream hopes you like it, he consulted with Financier to set up a nice spot with crisp white tablecloth with gold linen and fancy blue cushioned chairs to keep you comfy there. The waterfalls that forms streams of burbles as it travels along its bed, bubbling over rocks and branches behind you, the cream white pillars standing in peaceful silence and blue birds that fly around and watch the two of you on your date as the warm candles around you create the romantic atmosphere that he wants to create.

Of course being the gentleman he is, he pulls your chair for you and lets you sit down first with that charming and charismatic smile of his. His heart however is thumping so fast out of anxiety. He knows he’s got nothing to fear, but he just doesn’t want to screw up anything.

The date is quiet and peaceful, with playful banter between you two, Clotted Cream sliding a little flirty and respectful compliment here and there as the two of you laugh gently and quietly into the night, his hand on top of yours.

Top quality food is what you deserve! Clotted Cream prepared a wide variety of food for you both: with a high tea set, served on fancy plates and made by the top chefs of the Creme Republic. It’s only natural, after all.

Clotted Cream can’t help but smile warmly (or like a lovestruck idiot-) as you laughed at his joke quietly and sweetly with that beautiful smile of yours, the candles illuminating your presence in a warm glow like the angelic being you are to him. <3

Stardust Cookie

He planned a date with you across the cosmos, no surprise, but with a twist.

Stardust wanted to impress you (or at least show that he’s trying his best here) and took time to learn about Earthbread-bound concepts into the date, to make it more ✨romantic✨.

Obviously, it’s his first time even having any sort of outing with one cookie, and you’re just so important to him he’s nervous maybe he’ll flunk it. He’s foreign to this concepts and he’s scared but he wants to show he loves you dearly.

With the help of Milky Way, Space Doughnut, Gingerbrave and Friends, Stardust managed to put together a picnic for you outer space on a planet he used to find solitude in, but now he has someone to be with him and that somebody is you. He’s pretty much only got Earthbread snacks (and stuff Space Doughnut likes) and was pretty nervous whether you’ll judge him for his choices, or that they are even good in the first place. Of course, you reassure him that you’re having a wonderful time, it’s true! As the two of you enjoy the cosmos from your view, leaning your head on his shoulder and in a warm embrace.

Alternatively, it’s another candlelit dinner date but in Milky Way’s Express Train! She decided to go off duty for the day, just for you two! Stardust is immensely grateful for her help, and she and Space Doughnut acts as his two wingmen for the whole date as caterer and also the driver, Milky Way we still need you to operate this train-

Space Doughnut serves you every Earthbread food Gingerbrave and friends recommend, and just for you two they resist eating any of them although you two definitely gave them some food to share which they were happy about.

You and Spacedust look out to the window, the moving train showing breathtaking landscapes of the cosmos, galaxies swirling with such sparkle and glamour as he holds your hand in his. He briefly turns back to you, seeing you face the window with a peaceful smile before you turned to face him when you felt him staring and smiled back at him sweetly. His heart melts as he smiled back. <3

Reblogs help! ^^