#and that want to reach out in different ways

[wilwheaton]

Unless and until the current "leaders" are gone, and replaced by fighters who give a fuck about working people, I'm done with fundraising and knocking on doors and all the other work I did for years, just so Cuck Schumer (ha! that was not an intentional typo! the h on my keyboard didn't connect, and now I can't change it) could stab me and people like me in the back on his way back to his mansion.

The Democratic Party needs our own Tea Party movement to take the party back from people like Schumer and Jefferies. We need to send Fetterman into the wilderness for the rest of his life.

There are good people who want to fight for the middle class and the working poor and all the marginalized, vulnerable people who Schumer and the Vichy fucks who also voted yes abandoned.

There are good people who want to be elected Democrats who will not throw the Trans community and all of our Trans siblings under the bus in an effort to appeal to shitty dirtbags who will never vote for a Democrat.

There are good people who will fight for you, who will fight to preserve human rights in America and around the world, even -- especially -- if it pisses off the billionaires who own Schumer and the Vichy Democrats.

We just need to get the Schumers and the Fettermans and the rest of them out of the way. We may risk some losses on the way, but ask yourselves: what's the practical difference between a Republican who votes for MAGA terror and a Democrat who votes for MAGA terror?

There's no point to us working for and electing Democrats who are going to behave like Republicans when it counts. In fact, it's shooting ourselves in the foot and the face all at once.

Make them earn our donations, our time, our energy, our willingness to reach out to everyone we can, and don't ever let them forget what happened to the Vichy fucks who didn't.

Make them afraid of us, so they work for us or get out of the way for someone who will.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

i dare you

a/n: for all of you hoes who are also hot for teacher, bon appetit, bitch ♡

summary: “no, I was thinking a little something else,” a mischievous grin slowly twisted up his lips, “how about, if we win, then you have to make a move on that professor,” he goaded, “but if you win, then we’ll–,��I don’t know, what would you like?” 

warnings: professor!peter parker x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, college au, polyamory, student/teacher relationship, forbidden romance, age gap, dilf!peter, babysitting, alcohol consumption, kissing, corruption kink, car sex, semi-public sex, voyeurism, panty sniffing, dirty talk, hair pulling, masturbation, fingering

word count: 3611

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

Staying back, you watched in your periphery as the other students slowly filtered out of the lecture hall, though your gaze stayed glued to the teacher as he packed up his things down by the wide chalkboard.

Professor Parker’s back was turned to you as you neared, and a murmur quickly rolled off your tongue, “professor, I just wanted to–,” but then as he whirled around, unaware of how close you had crept, his frame bumped directly into yours, and the half-empty cup of cold coffee in his grasp jostled in the clash and splashed down upon the both of you.

“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed as his eyes first flickered down to the large stain on his shirt before they blinked up to discover who was to blame.

“I am so sorry, oh no…” you gasped as you stared back at his ruined button-down, the sodden state of your own clothing not seeping through your guilt yet. 

“It’s–,” the flash of anger that had momentarily sparked was swiftly squashed when his gaze fell upon you, “it’s alright,” he exhaled as his shoulders relaxed, “I have some spare clothes in my office.”

“Really?”

“Habit of being a dad,” he shrugged as he picked up his leather satchel, “this is not the first time I’ve spilt something on myself. Come, you can borrow one as well. I’m guessing you don’t want to walk around campus like that,” he faintly nodded to your t-shirt as his eyes fought not to stare. 

“What?” you finally glanced down at yourself and noticed how the soaked coffee stain had turned the thin cotton of your shirt nearly transparent, “oh…” heat swiftly began to rise in your cheeks for a different reason other than just the mortification of the clumsy collision, “oh my god…” 

Though you only shrugged on the button-down he handed you once you stepped inside of his office, merely covering up the sheer state of your shirt enough for you to get back to your dorm and change, your heart began to hammer in your chest as he absentmindedly stripped off his ruined shirt and didn’t realise what he had done till half of the buttons on the fresh one was fastened. 

“So,” he swiftly cleared his throat as you struggled to blink away from the sliver of his chest that he hastily covered back up, “what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” 

“Hm?” you hummed, fearing drool might be leaking down your chin by now. 

“When I walked into you,” he reminded your foggy head, “you started saying something, so what was it?” 

“Oh, that…” an airy chuckle puffed out of your lungs as you averted your gaze, “it’s so silly now…” and you tugged open your backpack and reached into it before you uttered, “I know it’s cliche, but I brought you an apple…” 

“Oh,” a smile warmed up the older man’s features as you plucked the fruit out of your bag and held it for him to grasp, “that’s cute.”

Once in his hand, he twisted around to place it delicately in the middle of the cluttered desk behind him. 

“You know, now that you’re here,” he began before he turned back to face you, “I wanted to talk to you about maybe looking after Benjamin again.” 

“I dare you.” 

“What? No!” you shrieked at Andy as he cracked open another beer for himself, “he’s my professor!”

“So? That shouldn’t stop you,” he cocked a brow, “go ask Billy, he’s screwed more faculty members than I can recall,” he nodded to the frat guy currently propped up against the far side wall, chatting up some girl as the party buzzed around him, “come on, you said you have a crush on him.”

“Oh my god,” you swiftly buried your head in your hands, “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Well, then maybe don’t play truth or dare if you’re gonna be such a baby about the things you share,” he only chuckled in return. 

Marc then draped an arm around your shoulders and boomed over the music, “you should go for it!”

“Stop, I’m not gonna seduce him,” you crawled out of hiding with a groan, “I’m not some siren.” 

“No, but you are a hot little freshman, which is pretty damn close,” Marc smirked as you met his gaze. 

A head then poked through the open doorway before it swivelled to find you, “hey, there you guys are,” Scott waved a hand, “we’re up.”

“Oh, finally,” Andy exhaled before you all began to shift into the room in the fraternity where the beer pong table was permanently set up in, “who won last round?”

“Curtis and Bucky,” Scott cocked his head as you settled in beside him on one end of the table while the two others migrated towards the opposite side. 

“Aw, man…” Marc swiftly sighed, “they’re probably gonna take the crown again…”  

And as you all prepared the table for another game, lining cups up in triangles on either end, Andy’s voice then found your ears as you grasped the small ping pong balls in your palm, ready for your first toss.  

“Wait, how about we make this a little more interesting?”

Furrowing your brow, you shifted the lightweight sphere from one hand to the other, “interesting how? I don’t wanna put money on this, if that’s what you mean. My stepfather, and by proxy Steve, may be rich assholes, but that doesn’t mean I am…” 

“No, I was thinking a little something else,” a mischievous grin slowly twisted up his lips, “how about, if we win, then you have to make a move on that professor,” he goaded, “but if you win, then we’ll–, I don’t know, what would you like?” 

“Oh, wait, I get to choose something?” your eyes couldn’t help but widen at the temptation.

“Yeah.” 

Mulling it over, you then uttered, “…well, my notes for pretty much all of my classes are really messy… so, if I win, then you guys could organise them all,” you pointed at both of your competitors with a smile, “rewrite them in nice legible handwriting, colour code it and everything.” 

“Seriously?” Andy promptly squinted at you as a look of disappointment washed over his features. 

“That's what I want.” 

“You know you could have had anything, or anyone, as a prize, and you chose that?” 

“What?” you blinked back at him as if you were a puppy, “it’s what I want.” 

“Alright then,” a chuckle slipped through his sigh, “game on.” 

“Oh, hey. You’re back,” you uttered as you picked your nose out of the textbook cracked open on your professor’s dining table and glanced up to spot him waltzing in through the door. He was slightly wet from the brief trek up the driveway and into the house as rain had begun to hammer against the windows. 

“Yeah, that fundraiser dragged on for an eternity…” he sighed as he hung up his coat. Stepping closer to where you sat, he asked, “how did it go here? Is Benji down for the night?” 

“Yep, he’s asleep,” you nodded, “we played outside in the garden,” you smiled as you reported, thinking back to how you and the six-year-old had played hide and seek, “he helped supervise while I made dinner, by the way, there’s still some left over in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet,” you briefly pointed over your shoulder towards the kitchen, “and then we started reading Ronja, the Robber's Daughter as a bedtime story, and just as a fair warning, he is hooked. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wakes up tomorrow morning with a burning desire to run into the woods and pretend that he is the daughter of a viking.” 

Your collective giggles about the child filled the air a moment before it simmered down once more and Peter’s eyes drifted to your homework on the table.  

“And what’s this now?” he planted a hand close to where you sat and leaned in. 

“This is the assignment for your class, but don’t peek yet!” your fingers swiftly grasped the corner of the notebook in front of you before you tilted it mostly shut to hide the scribbled words from his view, “that’s cheating! You’ll just have to be patient and get it next week along with all the others.” 

“I’ll try my best,” he chuckled as he gazed down at you. 

And as you met his eye, your vision soon flickered down to the buttoned-up collar of his shirt before you remembered, “oh hey,” and you dipped down to slip a hand into the backpack you had leaned against the leg of the dining table, “I forgot to give this back to you earlier.”

“Oh, thanks,” his eyebrows floated up a tad as you handed him the shirt you’d borrowed, “I almost forgot about it,” before his fingers drifted up to push his glasses back into place. 

A crack of thunder then ripped both of your attentions to the broad window behind you.

“Wow,” you murmured as you watched a bolt of lightning split through the darkness of the late evening, “it’s really coming down out there…” 

“Yeah…” Professor Parker hummed before his glance shifted to you, “wait, was that your bicycle out front? You can’t ride back in this weather,” his head faintly shook from side to side.  

“Oh, well, you live so close to campus, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

“Nonsense, I’ll drive you,” he pressed. 

“You really don’t have to, it’s already so late.”

“Young lady, I am giving you a lift and that’s final,” he captured your timid gaze, “I can’t have my best student get sick or struck by lightning.”

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you breathed, “well, when you put it like that…” 

“Let me just go put this away,” he raised the shirt in his hand up slightly, “and then we’ll be on our way.” 

“Great,” you smiled before it promptly dropped as he slipped out of the room. 

It had been the guys who had talked you into shimmying off your panties the next time you were here and placing them on his bedside table to enjoy, though you had all but forgotten about the lack of coverage currently beneath your skirt right until you watched your professor waltz right into the lion’s den. 

“W-wait–,” you tried to stop him, but by the time you parted your lips, he was already long gone. 

And before you even realised it, you had risen from the chair and your feet had begun to tip-toe after him. The dark hallway swallowed you whole as you crept through it towards the open doorway into his bedroom. 

Hiding yourself in the shadows with your fingernails digging into the doorframe as you peeked inside, a silent prayer left your lips as you hoped he’d not notice the tiny ball of folded-up, pastel-blue cotton on the nightstand, at least not while you were still under his roof. 

Though when he’d tossed the shirt into the hamper by his closet, his footsteps faltered when he turned to exit the room. As he stared at the small bundle, it wasn’t till he reached the bedside table that he realised what exactly it was. 

Picking it up, he turned it over in his hand a moment before your palm soared up to clasp over your mouth and silence a gasp as he then raised the pale fabric up even higher till it reached his nose.

Though you knew that you should have, you just couldn’t tear your stare away from him, even after his free hand had squeezed the growing bulge in his pants, after he had freed his fat cock, and even after soft grunts began to tumble up his throat as he let his eyes flutter shut and his tight fist began to stroke his length.

And once he’d gotten himself off, his cum now staining your panties clutched tightly in his grip, he then crumbled them up and stuffed them into his pocket.

Scrambling to rush back to the dining room, you tried to ignore the throbbing between your thighs and the arousal that had begun to leak down them as well from that sinful display. 

When you heard his footsteps echo down the hallway, you packed up your things as quickly as you could, tossing them into your backpack as you tried your best to pretend that nothing had just happened.

Clearing his throat as he entered the room once more, he then murmured, “you ready to go?” 

“Mhm,” you twisted around to face him, however noticed how he refused to meet your eye.

Though you both tried to be hasty as you went out into the storm, strapping your bike to a rack on the back of his car, you were both still completely soaked when the vehicle’s doors closed behind each of you, low exhales acting as punctuations after the slams. 

You tried to recall the long list of tips and tricks your stepbrother’s friends had pushed on you, but your mind went completely blank as all you could think about was the vision of your teacher touching himself before your very eyes. 

And before Peter’s fingers could slip the key in and turn on the engine, you found yourself, in your flustered frenzy, leaning in to press your lips to his own. 

The kiss was rushed and rather clumsy, but you stayed frozen, long enough for your tense shoulder to begin to thaw, though when you finally felt him slip from his stunned state, he only kissed you back for a split second before his hands grasped your shoulders and he tilted you away from him. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded breathlessly as his grip stayed at your upper arms to keep you at a distance. 

“I’m sorry, I just–,” you gasped shakily, “I think I might like you…” 

“Oh fuck…” a long sigh slipped from his lungs as he bowed his head and closed his eyes, “this can’t be happening…”

“I’m sorry, I should have asked first, I just kind of panicked,” you tried, hearing your voice tremble embarrassingly. 

“No, you shouldn’t have asked, because none of this should have happened in the first place,” he swiftly grumbled before he let his touch fade from your arms, “this is all my fault, I shouldn’t have crossed this line, opened my home to you and let you see me as something other than your superior.” 

“Professor,” you shifted in your seat, “I’m sorry that I kissed you, I just thought that you might–”

“Kissed me? Oh, this isn’t just about you kissing me,” a soft scoff bubbled out of him as his head faintly shook, “miss Y/l/n, you can’t just leave your undergarments around for your teacher to find.”

Averting your gaze, you found yourself muttering just beneath your breath, “…well it didn’t look like you minded…”

“What?” he nearly growled, “what did you just say?”

“I–…”

“Were you spying on me?” he accused heatedly. 

“I–, well–,” you panted, “I can explain, it wasn’t my idea–”

“So, what–, this is just some game you’ve got going with your little friends? See who can sleep with a teacher first or something?” 

“No, it’s not,” you frantically shook your head before you had to tilt it in shame, “or well–, some people I know found out about the dumb crush I have on you and then they kinda dared me, gave me some suggestions on what to do…” 

“Oh my god…” he exhaled slowly and averted his gaze, “…okay…” he then enclosed his fingers around the steering wheel, “I am gonna drive you back and then we will both forget that any of this ever happened, you got it?” he said firmly, though the hurt in your eyes he then spotted as you blinked back at him swayed him to take a step back and choose his next words very carefully, “look, you’re a very sweet girl, and I’m flattered, truly, but you don’t want me,” he faintly shook his head as he gazed back into your glossy eyes, “you should go be with someone your own age…”

“Should I?” you innocently uttered in a heartbreaking tone, “just like you shouldn’t be getting off to the thought of your students?” 

Checkmate. 

Slowly, you inched closer to his frozen form, “it’s okay,” you whispered when you leaned so near that your noses nearly touched, “I promise, I won’t tell anyone…”

And then as if something inside of your teacher snapped, he huffed, “fuck…” before he closed the short gap between you both and kissed you fiercely.

It felt as if he was trying to devour you whole as you began to make out in his car, rain still thrashing against the outside as his tongue fluttered against yours for a taste of your youth. 

Your fingers soon drifted up to tangle his soaked tie in your grasp and you found yourself purring meekly against his lips as his own touch floated up your frame, ghostly against your sides, before he cupped your jaw. 

But just as quickly as he had shattered, he once again pulled back, just ever so slightly to murmur, “this is wrong…” his hot breath fanned across your flaming cheeks, “you’re my student…” before you tilted up to steal another peck from him, one so sweet that it prompted him to crumble even further, “h-how old are you? You’re eighteen?” he asked breathlessly before you offered him a faint nod, “you’re eighteen…” he panted through his conflict, “holy fuck…” 

You then kissed him again till his hands gradually began to gain more confidence as they raked across your frame. His touch was bold as it captured your tits, palming the softness through the wet clothing that clung to your curves, making you whimper into his mouth, a sweet sound that caused him to smirk faintly against your lips before he deepened the kiss even further.  

“You can touch me, professor,” you panted as one of his hands soared up to weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, “it’s okay, I want you to.”

With his grip rooted in your hair and keeping you close, he held your eye as he then let one of his palms slowly wander down between your thighs till your skirt gathered around the watch on his wrist and his touch crept up to brush against your bare core. 

Studying the reaction that flashed across your features closely, he groaned, “holy shit…” as your needy nectar soaked his careful touch, “is this for me? Really?” 

“Mhm…” you struggled to nod as his fingertips swept up to graze against your throbbing clit. 

“Fuck…” he shared your breath, “you really had me believing that you were just a good little girl who’d never pull a stunt like this…”

“Well, maybe I am,” you uttered raggedly as his caresses caused you to tremble with every rub and flick he granted you in his exploration of your haven, “maybe I just have some really bad influences in my life.” 

“Yeah, well then lucky me,” two of his long fingers promptly swept down to slip inside of you, making you gasp at the sudden stretch before you squirmed, your legs instinctively wiggling further apart for him, “keep that devil on your shoulder if this is what it gets you.” 

Loosing himself completely, it was as if he was possessed as the kind hearted professor you once knew was no longer the man sitting in the car next to you, certainly not the older doctor who soon began to fuck you with his fingers, making your pussy sing for him, and weep against the leather seat below, as he greedily rocked his digits inside of you. 

Tilting down, he let his lips flutter against the collum of your neck as he murmured, “what else did your friends say you should do to get me to fuck you, huh?”

“They–, they–…” you tried to recall, but simply couldn’t as the sensation of his fingers, dragging in and out of your dripping cunt, rendered it an impossible task to accomplish, “fuck… I don’t know, I don’t remember…” 

“You don’t?” a low chuckle rumbled in his chest at how flustered he’d made you.

“N-no,” your thighs trembled on either side of his hand as it momentarily withdrew to slip up through your soaked petals to offer your puffy pearl a brief rub, before his touch once again soared down to fill you up, “fuck, please don’t stop, that feels so good.” 

“Yeah?” he pressed his nose against your cheek as he gazed down at your pussy, the front of your skirt now pushed up so high on your hips that one merely had to glance to catch sight of the leaky mess now on full display, “you gonna cum?”

“Mhm,” you nodded frantically as your eyes too fluttered down to peer at his fingers, shiny as they pumped within you, and your eyebrows knitted tightly in pleasure as the overwhelming high threatened to come crashing down upon you like an avalanche. 

“Then do it,” the grip he had on the roots of your hair flexed as he then tilted your head slightly for him to capture your hazy gaze, “give me something to think about when I get myself off,” he groaned breathlessly as he kept up his ruthless pace, “cum all over my fingers like a good little girl.” 

And as your cunt clenched down around his digits, your loud moans bounced off the car’s walls, “p-professor–, o-oh fuck!” 

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[strialternatives]

bonus:

:inhales and slams hands on the desk: akechi. palace. pitch.

disclaimer: the setting for this is all about vibes and aesthetics, it kinda got away from me when i started hashing out the plot around it two months ago so now we're here. in hell. (i'll probably have to make a secondary post i made wayyy too many concepts,)

yes i made an ost for this idea, here is a youtube playlist of chill european jazz

AU details under the cut-

Akechi Goro's palace is "Ampitheatrum Doloris”.

KEYWORDS: Akechi Goro, Tokyo Highcourt, Amphitheater

Akechi's psyche is a massive collection of locked doors, puzzles, and contradictions. He wants to be seen but not understood—heard but never known, ect. This makes his palace infiltration a waking nightmare (affectionate).

His palace is made up of five main layers. They each mirror a stage of grief:

1) There is the outer layer of with the appearance of a Venice-esque water canal maze, there is a door that must be opened to reach the entrance to infiltrate the second layer underneath the amphitheater. The puzzle's actually pretty sentimental and revolves around Akechi's interest in literature.

(This layer is depression, Goro mourns what he lost and the fact that the choices he made for the sake of revenge ultimately led to nowhere. This is reflected in how desolate/meandering the outer layer feels, it is the largest and most time consuming part of the palace for this reason. It takes weeks to finish. AKA, Akira and Morgana have a terrible, no good, very bad month of May.) 

2) The Labyrinth under the amphitheater; it is full of shadows for the arena champion to use as fodder for the enjoyment of the masses. ‘Loki’ resides here—this layer’s theme loosely plays on the Minotaur myth. 

The only way to escape is through a pulley/elevator mechanism which leads to the surface after shattering the Champion’s chains by force. Loki taunts in Old Norse, but gives Akira (and the party by extension) genuine hints on how to escape.

(This layer is anger, Goro is always angry, about the hand he’s been dealt, the futility of his own actions, and the fact that his life has always been a dead end, written in the stars.)

3) The Audience Stands; full of human cognitions and Akechi’s former clients and fans, despite everything, like Sae, he sees them as ‘people’ and is disgusted by them. Their compliments are shallow and empty, surface level like Goro’s facade. Cognition Sae is delegated to a middle manager-type role, and leads Akira and Co. through puzzles.

Different cognitions from Akechi’s shitshow of a childhood throw riddles based around philosophy and the nature of justice at the party, if the answer is ‘wrong’, there’s a mini-boss fight. Answering everything correctly yields a prize—a key, this process is made difficult by all of Robin’s ‘hints’ (which the Thieves can directly ask for) being lies.

(Bargaining. Goro always thought he could still salvage his revenge despite his enemy being essentially invincible, even now deep down he thinks he can salvage all the effort and sacrifices he put in.)

4) The Stage; Robin Hood appears proper instead of in cameo appearances, this is the lead actor's stage. To earn the right to stand with him, Akira has to have to prove his worth in one-on-one combat while showing the crowd a rousing show. The goal is to use the key obtained in the bargaining layer to unlock the Performer's cuffs.

(Denial, Goro doesn’t believe he needs or deserves saving or a life outside of his revenge, he believes there is no other way forward.)

Hereward and the 'treasure' are in the Imperial box area, which I'll save for part 2 of this I think! The second half of this'll have less focus on the environments and more on general plot and character design.

EDIT: here's part two

[technitaur]

I wish that it was socially acceptable to outright say 'I wanted to reach out to see how you're doing, but just so you know, I don't want you back in my life.'

As interests and schedules and life in general grow and change, I've drifted in and out of friendship with so many people. With most people, there comes a time when I feel that we don't have a lot in common anymore and it's time to move on. But I can't just tell them that, because most people take it personally. They think that you don't like them as a person anymore.

But it's not that at all. It's not that I don't think they're a cool person, it's just that the time and energy required to keep our Venn diagrams overlapping has become too much. It's more 'work' than 'fun' at that point.

I wish that people didn't see it as a 'failed friendship' when they drift apart. I think there are a lot of people who spend a lot more time and energy than they need to keeping active friendships alive just out of a sense of duty to the concept of friendship. And I think that leads to resentment and frustration.

Unfortunately, often the only way to semi-gracefully end the active phase of a friendship is to just kind of start ghosting the person more and more often until it fades.

Or maybe I'm just really bad at friendships. I don't know. But I'm sure I can't be the only one who has had to do this.

A few times, I've tried reconnecting with old friends just to see how they're doing, and then all of a sudden they want to try to re-kindle the friendship back to what it was in its prime. They start making plans and wanting to do things with me.

And it's like, no, that's not what I came here for. We're too different now. Please don't try to force it - that will only end in frustration and disappointment.

I think a lot of old friendships would be better off if more people were content to just reminisce for an hour or two and then part again. Then we actually could tell each other all these little things we remember about each other, instead of having to permanently maintain a wary distance to avoid false hopes and letdowns.

Sometimes, I miss people that used to be in my life and feel the urge to reach out and tell them "hey I know we don't talk anymore but I still fold my sweater the way you taught me to". Not in a "I want you back in my life" way but more of a "my life has more colors now because of all the days we spent laughing together and I'm thankful for that".

[ennabear]

Hiii! I just read the tittie obsessed sevika (i get her) and omfg TITTIE FUCKING?? DO YOU WANT ME TO DIEEE???. I love your writing XX

HAIII BABYYYYY hehehe i was originally just gonna say thanks and i love u but i need to expand on the loser!titty lover!sevika agenda so here’s another blurb!!!!! please don’t dieeeee i love u so much 😭😭

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ men + minors dni

not a day goes by where sevika leaves your tits alone. the first thing she does when she wakes up is rolls over and gropes your chest, mumbling something sleepily about how much she loves your body and mind. you wake up to her with her big, warm hands pinching your nipples every morning, instantly giggling and blushing and rolling over to kiss her pretty face.

she’ll grab onto them even more as the two of you get dressed, pouting and whining when you cover them up with a shirt or a bra (or worse— both.) when you come to visit her at the bar, she’ll yank your top down like nobody’s business. staring down your cleavage without a care in the world, but shooting one of her signature deadly glares to anyone else who dares to peek.

sometimes she doesn’t even mean to stare, it’s just where her eyes naturally rest when she zones out, the curves and valleys of your tits a familiar, comforting sight. and by night, once you have her settled down and taken care of, she’ll fall asleep with one of your nipples in her mouth, forming a river of drool that trails down between them.

so when you bring up titty fucking to her? explaining to her how badly you wanna have her thick strap sliding in between your tits? she cries. happy tears, of course, but she falls to her knees and sobs into the front of your shirt, repeating something like, “i— i just can’t… believe… that you’re mine.”

she’s giddy with excitement the whole day, it drives you nuts. partially because she’s so goddamn annoying, but partially because it turns you on so much you can hardly see straight. she has a different twinkle in her eye, something more like a red-hot flame lighting her usual innocent, sparkly eyes. she’s practically humping you when she wakes up, responding to your “keep it in your pants, sev.” with a snarky, “guess i’ll just save it for later.”

when you arrive at the bar to steal her from silco, she’s not even playing cards with her usual crowd or having a drink at the bar. in fact, she almost runs into you as you enter, eager to make her way home to you. you can feel the excitement buzzing in her veins as she walks beside you, forgoing her cape to drape it around you because the arousing heat pooling in her core is more than enough to keep her warm.

the front door doesn’t even close before she has you pinned to the wall, greedily shoving her tongue in your mouth to savor your taste. her hands slide under your shirt in an instant, squeezing your tits in her warm palms and teasingly rubbing over your areolas with her fingertips. you whimper into her mouth, pulling her closer by her belt and rubbing her toned back and waist softly.

her legs tangle with yours as you attempt to get the door closed and make it to the bedroom, the two of you clumsily stumbling over each other in a giddy, shaky mess of nerves. sevika flashes you one of her big, sparkling grins as you undress yourself, and you almost fold in two when you see her cheeks reaching her ears and her tooth gap sitting proudly in the middle of them.

“well? you gonna get strapped up?” you ask, half naked in her gaze.

“shoot. i guess.” she giggles, her sweet smile turning into a shit-eating grin.

you stumble out of your bottoms as she stumbles into her harness, buckling herself up and tightening it accordingly. you lay down in bed, squeezing your tits in your own hands while you wait for your wife to get situated. her eyes grow wide and starry as she sees you and realizes what’s about to happen, and suddenly all of her confidence is gone.

“sevi?” you ask, grabbing her attention. her eyebrows perk up, but she’s frozen in place. “you ready, baby?”

she nods, slowly crawling up to you while carving every inch of your body into her memory. once her strap is hanging just a few inches away from you, you gently yet firmly grab her hips. you can feel her trembling, probably because she’s an overwhelming mix of horny and nervous, and it makes you giggle so hard you forget your objective.

“don’t laugh at me.” sevika pouts, staring down at your tits.

one last chuckle at your sweet wife and you’re done, spitting in your hand and rubbing it up and down the length of sevika’s strap. she squirms as if she can feel it, her human hand grabbing one of your own.

“ready?” you ask for a final time.

“f-fuck, yeah…” she whispers, just quiet enough for you to hear everything she’s thinking in that small response.

your elbows nearly meet as you push your tits together, and sevika gives one full thrust before her hips are stuttering wildly. you can feel some heat and wetness dripping onto your stomach, and you groan in response to her groans.

“janna, i can feel it. i swear i can feel it. you’re so fucking soft.” she whines, big eyes fluttering at the sight below her. your heart pounds every time her hips thrust closer to you, and you think you could cum just from this. just from seeing your wife panting and whimpering above you.

at some point, she sticks a thumb in her mouth, coats it in saliva, and brings it down to rub at your nipples. her human thumb is thick and rough, it gives you all the stimulation you need. but her mech hand? it’s somehow even better. the cold metal of her point fingers has your nipples puckering harder than ever, sending a chill down your spine. the way you’re both moaning is obscenely beautiful, like a choir mixed in with the creaking of the bed and the soft slapping of your tits against one another.

your fingernails dig into her thighs as you get closer and closer, honestly not suspecting this. you mainly thought this would be for sevika’s pleasure, but you’re enjoying it just as much as she is. every time the tip of her strap peeks through your tits, you whine and squirm, rubbing your thighs together in search of some friction. sevika senses this, speeding up her thrusts and pinching your tits in her grasp.

slowly but surely, you feel that familiar sensation bubbling up in your stomach, only doubling in intensity by the second. her dark eyeliner is smudging and starting to drip down her face as she sweats— or maybe she’s crying again? probably some mix of both. you cum when you make eye contact with her, moaning and squeezing your arms together as tightly as possible.

you can’t tell if sevika cums too or not, all you know is that when you come down from your orgasm, there’s a puddle of her slick collecting on her stomach and dripping down her thighs, and that she’s slumped over the headboard as she catches her breath.

“sit on my face?” you ask from under her, still breathless but you’d gladly suffocate between her thighs.

sevika chuckles, then giggles, then cackles as she reflects on everything that just happened. “i love you so much.” she giggles, tears in her eyes as she yanks her strap off and prepares to sink down on top of you. little did you know, this would be the longest night of your life.

[naburi]

BARBIE

NAYEON X READER

TAGS: PASSIONATE SEX, PUSSY EATING

2.1K WORDS

“WHO WILL BE KOREA’S BARBIE?” An announcement floods the social media when the studio reveals that they will hold an audition for the next Barbie movie. All idols have their eyes on the iconic role but one can only be chosen. “I am Barbie!” Nayeon said with her pretty wide smile. She looks at you with excitement. You instructed her that she may start her “audition.” Nayeon walks up to you and leans closer to your face. “They said I have great lips,” the idol smiled before her lips touched yours.

Nayeon shouts in surprise at what she read in a post. “Is this real? A korean Barbie?” The other members she shared a room with woken up by the sudden noise. Nayeon is born to be an idol, she loves being in the spotlight more than anyone. She knows that playing Barbie is a once in a lifetime role. Something that will put her name in a legendary status. She spent her night looking for more information about the audition and now she is in front of you.

“Ms. Im Nayeon,” you said her name out loud as you scanned her idol portfolio. You were impressed by her group's sustained success with an expanding kpop industry. A famous idol for a famous role sure checks a mark. Nayeon is wearing a pink tight dress that hugs the curves of her fine body. She made sure to wear a pink dress to show you she looks good in the iconic pink color theme of Barbie.

“Your name alone can make people go to theaters to see you as Barbie but there are other idols that can look good in this role,” You paused as you looked straight in Nayeon’s eyes. “Are you the best fit for this role?” You asked the woman in front of you. The idol smiles and almost chuckles at your question. “I am Barbie!” Her eyes light up and a wide smile spreads across her lips. She is convinced that this is her movie. “You may start your “audition.” You said stoically.

Nayeon stands up on her seat, you take a good look of her illustrious body as she walks across the table to get in front of you. The idol leans closer to your face, barely an inch of space between the two lips. Nayeon eyes catches yours before she moves her lips even closer, giving you a kiss. You can feel Nayeon plump lips as she sucks your lower lip into a kiss. Her lips are as soft as they look. You can feel her lips alternating from light pecks to sucking as wants to feel all parts of your lips.

Nayeon holds the side of your face, guiding you to stand up as you willing do to not break the kiss. The two of you are now standing alone in the room. As she continues to kiss you, she finds your hands to put in on top of her ass. She paused for a moment to smile as she felt your hand grabbing hard on her ass. She buries her lips on yours again while your hand wanders and grabs her ass on different sides, you were surprised how soft her ass is.

She wraps her arms around your neck as she goes for a kiss. Her tongue is now gracing your lips occasionally as she’s teasing you for a French kissing. You can feel her holding back, baiting you to meet her tongue. The kiss continued and when you felt her tongue again, you opened your mouth more for the two tongues to intertwine. She grabs the hair at the back of your head as the kiss intensifies. Sloppy sounds can be heard as the two of you are seemingly drunk by the kiss. Saliva is dripping down on the side of both of your mouth as the kiss turns into a wet mess.

Nayeon pulls out of the kiss as she takes a breath. A string of saliva still connects to the two lips. The both of you felt hot by the torrid kissing. Nayeon felt your bulge poking her. Lust filled eyes she looks at you before continuing the kiss. Her hand reaches down to caress your bulge as she still holds the kiss. “You’re hard.” She manages to say in between kisses. Her long fingers swiftly unbuttoned and unzipped your pants. You can feel her hand slowly finding its way inside your pants. Only the fabric of your underwear is in between her hand and your hard cock. She reaches even deeper to touch your balls, giving it a light grab as her hand massages your cock way up to your tip.

Nayeon fingers linger around your hard tip, feeling how hard it is. “Shall I?” The idol said. You nodded and Nayeon kissed you again as her hands found the waistband of your underwear to pull it down. Your cock touches her dress as it springs up. She abruptly stops the kiss to look at your cock. She smiles as it’s as big as she expects from a foreign man. Her tongue enters your mouth again as she invites you for another make out.

You can feel her touching your tip and it slowly goes down to your shaft. She’s feeling the length of your cock as her hands moved back and forth to the hilt of your haft up to your tip. You can tell she got aroused by your cock as her lips feel like she wants you to kiss her more. Nayeon’s hand is faster by every moment. Her hand is now ejaculating your hard cock while her tongue continues to explore your mouth.

Nayeon’s mind is getting clouded with curiosity the more she caresses your cock. She pulls back out of the kiss and gives you a look before kneeling in front of you. She kisses the tip of your cock while she’s looking up at you. She gives you a smile before moving her head to the side to give pecks of kisses on each side of your shaft. You left out a moan as you got surprised by the sudden sensation of her tongue on your balls. Her face is covered in half by your shaft as she slowly licks your balls.

Nayeon made you moan again when she gently put one of your balls in her mouth and softly sucked it. You hold your shaft to give it a few strokes but the woman catches it and guides it away. She holds your cock by herself and strokes it. Her tongue licks in rhythm with her stroke. You can’t help but moan by how pleasurable her tongue feels. Nayeon smiles when she sees you trying to contain your moans.

Nayeon moves back in front of your tip. Stop for a moment waiting for you to look down at her. The woman licks your pee home which makes you release another moan. Nayeon is enjoying your reaction, she continues to lick on your tip. Her tongue licking at the back of it making sure she graces all parts of it. Nayeon is now sucking your tip, she sucks it slow and hard making your cock feel sensitive. You hold her by the hair to pull her head away but she fights back to continue to suck your tip. Your head tilted back as she continued to give you pleasure.

Nayeon felt her underwear was wet. She got too aroused by sucking your cock. Nayeon puts her hands inside her wet underwear to touch herself while she continues to put your cock in her mouth. Getting off the high by her pleasure. You look down to see her again and notice that her other hand is under her dress. “Lay on the table,” you instructed her. It's your turn to give her pleasure.

Nayeon lay on the table with her legs spread open, waiting for your touch. Her underwear is soaking wet. The woman moaned as she felt your hands move up on her slit. You pressed your thumb over her wet underwear to stimulate her clit. You feel a nub on the upper part of her slit and flick it gently. Nayeon moans as she’s already too aroused. Your hands want to explore her more. You move her wet under to the side to reveal her glistening wet slit.

Nayeon expects to feel your fingers inside her but she moans loud as she feels your tongue instead. Your tongue licks the bottom of her slit up to her clit painfully slow for her. Nayeon arched her back with the sudden sensation. You give her slit a kiss peck like what she did on you. Before licking the wetness on her slit. You flick her clit with your tongue and this made Nayeon pull your hair. You suck on her clit before flicking it again. You can feel Nayeon's legs tremble.

Nayeon is looking for something to hold, she knocks over the papers and other stuff on the table. You hold her legs in place as you continue to eat her up. You move down to her entrance and lick deep within her. Nayeon moans again as she can feel your tongue moving inside her. You lick back on her clit to give way with your two fingers. With a swift move. You put your two fingers inside as Nayeon is still soaking wet. The woman felt this and arched her back again.

Nayeon's other hand is over her head, gripping on the other end of the table. “ARGHHHHH” her extremely loud moan fills the room. You now start to move your fingers inside her. Her walls hug your fingers as you pull it back before thrusting it inside her again. You aim up on her inside walls to reach her g-spot. Nayeon made it clear that you’re hitting it by her loud moans and shaking body. “I-l’m n-near,” the woman weakly said. Nayeon’s legs are shaking even more. You continue hitting her g-spot until she finally orgasm. Her moans become more loud and high pitched as she releases. The woman lay flat on the table.

Nayeon felt her underwear was getting stripped down. Her dress got pushed up on her waist. Nayeon looks up to see you standing on infront of her slit. Your cock is already lined up on her slit. “Fuck me please,” the weak woman said. Her messy wet slit is being spread open as your cock is penetrating her. Nayeon moans as she feels your cock getting inside her. Your huge cock is filling her slit. Her walls feel so tight around your cock as your whole shaft is inside her.

Nayeon bites her lips as she can feel the size and shape of your cock leaving her slit. Slowly pushing your cock inside again, the idol arched her back in pleasure as she felt more how her inside was getting stretched with your slow pace. Nayeon looks at you in her half open eyes, inviting you for a kiss. You lean forward to meet her lip as the tired woman gathers her strength to kiss you. She bites the lower side of your lips to pull you closer before her tongue meets yours. You give her a slow and deep trust as the kiss continues.

You pull away from the kiss as you can still feel her tiredness. You peck her neck before sucking at her soft skin. You move your tongue to lick her neck and this made the woman moan loudly again. You move to different parts of her neck to suck as you want to leave hickeys in her soft white skin. Nayeon moans in your ear as she feels your lips on her neck. “F-fuck me.” Nayeon whispers her plea as she wants more of you.

You stand up straight to focus on penetrating her. You hold her small waist as you give her deep thrusts. Nayeon groans with your every movement. You put her legs on your shoulder to get deeper in her. Nayeon closes her eyes as she feels your pace is getting faster. The table creeks as you continue to penetrate her. Nayeon felt your hands cupping her boobs over her shoulder. Nayeon managed to pull her dress up, inviting you to reach for her boobs under her dress.

Nayeon is only wearing a nipple tape to cover her nipples. She moans as you peel it with force and moans again as you pinches her nipples with your fingers. This made Nayeon's legs tremble again. Insinuating she’s about to orgasm again. You fasten your trust as you want to climax with her.

“Cum inside me.”

“Cum inside your next Barbie.”

Nayeon said clearly as she’s about to orgasm. The two of you moan in unison as your cum and her orgasm flows inside her.

[gf2bellamy]

so uh i was thinking you know the greek myth that Plato wrote that humans once had four arms, four legs and two faces and then he explained that Zeus split us in half as a punishment for our pride and we were destined to walk the Earth searching. so what i was saying that i think that'd be so lovely if the reader used this myth to glamour spencer, like saying "since i met you i think my punishment is over" or something like that. i haven't had any requests to anyone before so I'm sorry if that doesn't make sense

souls — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: just fluff a/n: hiii !! this is such a wonderful idea so so so creative !! <3333 ( i love greek mythology so much ) i hope this is what you asked for !!

"Finally, warmth." You sighed loudly as you stepped into Spencer's apartment, rubbing your freezing hands together in an attempt to generate heat.

The day had been long but fun—just the two of you wandering through different stores, aimlessly browsing and occasionally stopping for coffee.

The cold, however, had been relentless. 

Behind you, Spencer followed, holding bags, which contained books. His arms were full, and yet he still managed to shoot you a knowing look. "I told you to wear a warmer jacket," he reminded you as he set the bags down. 

You smiled as he reached for your scarf—the one he had wrapped around your neck earlier when he'd noticed how much you were shivering. His fingers brushed against your chilled skin, his touch gentle, careful. 

"Maybe this was just my way of getting you to give me your scarf," you teased, grinning up at him. 

Spencer exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head as he helped you unwind the soft fabric.

It wasn’t a secret that you loved his scarves. Or his sweaters. Or, honestly, anything that was his.

Which is exactly why, without another word, you turned and made a beeline for his bedroom. 

He watched you go, an affectionate smile playing at his lips. With a quiet chuckle, he shrugged off his coat and gathered the shopping bags before following. 

By the time he stepped into the room, you were already pulling one of his oversized sweaters over your head, drowning in its warmth. Spencer leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of you in his clothes. It was a sight he would never tire of. 

"I'm looking forward to reading the book you got me," he mused, shifting his weight slightly. 

You plopped onto his bed, glancing toward the bags he carried. "Same," you admitted.

The two of you had made a deal—each picking out a book for the other, something you thought the other would enjoy. 

As Spencer changed into more comfortable clothes , he caught you peeking into one of the bags, and he immediately smirked. "No looking yet." 

You grinned, caught in the act. "Fine," you relented, sitting back. Your fingers toyed with the sleeve of his sweater before you murmured, "I hope you like yours." 

Spencer's expression softened as he picked up the bag once more. Then, without hesitation, he reached for your hand, his fingers lacing through yours. 

"I already know I will," he assured you. 

With that, the two of you wandered toward the living room, where you both settled on the couch. You crossed your legs, curling into the soft cushions, while Spencer leaned sideways against the armrest, your legs gently touching. The bag sat between you.

"You can open yours first," Spencer said, already knowing you’d want to.

You smiled, eyes lighting up as Spencer carefully pulled out the book from the bag, handing it to you.

Of course, it was Pride and Prejudice, but not just any edition—this was the most beautiful first edition you had ever seen. The cover was adorned with intricate gold lettering, delicate and rich in detail. 

You didn’t say anything at first. Instead, your fingers lightly traced the golden letters, reverently running over the embossed design.

Spencer’s gaze was fixed on you, his brows furrowing slightly in uncertainty. He watched you in silence, his chest tight as he waited for your response. He knew how much you loved Pride and Prejudice—he’d seen the way your eyes lit up every time you spoke of it. But this edition was something he hoped would make it even more special for you. 

You remained quiet for a moment, still staring at the pages, absorbed by the beauty of the book in your hands. Spencer shifted nervously, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. 

“D-do you like it?” 

You blinked, your gaze lifting from the book to meet his. For a brief moment, time seemed to slow as you looked into his warm, anxious eyes. There was something in his expression that made your heart swell, but you didn’t say all that was on your mind. Instead, you exhaled softly, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush. 

“I love it,” you breathed, a smile tugging at your lips. 

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Spencer said, his voice soft as he watched you with a fond smile. His gaze was warm, filled with affection that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. You stayed silent for a moment, taking in the beauty of the book, before you glanced up at him. 

“Okay, your turn.” You smiled, shaking off the lingering emotions, eager to keep the moment lighthearted. 

Spencer’s smile deepened, a soft chuckle escaping him as he reached into the bag and pulled out a book with a cover just as beautifully adorned in gold as yours had been.

The title caught your attention immediately—The Symposium. 

“You told me a couple of weeks ago about the Greek myth of Plato,” you began, trying to explain the significance of the book the way Spencer often explained things to you. “About how Zeus split us in half as a punishment for our pride, and how we were destined to walk the Earth searching for our other halves.” 

Spencer looked at you with admiration as he opened the pages of the book, his fingers lightly tracing the edges as he absorbed the meaning behind your words. 

“I remember,” he murmured.

You hesitated, unsure of how to articulate what you were feeling. You took a deep breath, continuing, “And I just thought it was fitting for you.” 

Spencer glanced up at you. 

“Because, you know,” you began again, your voice quieter this time, “I think my punishment is over... ever since I met you.” 

At that, Spencer froze. He nearly dropped the book from his hands, his wide eyes locking onto yours as if the ground beneath him had suddenly shifted. For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak—he was simply trying to process what you’d just said. 

You looked at him, your smile slightly shy but soft, waiting for some kind of response. Spencer was still speechless, just like you had been a moment ago.

“So, what do you think?” you asked, your voice tentative, as Spencer still hadn’t uttered a word. 

His lips parted, but it took him a second to find his voice.

“That I love you,” Spencer finally said, slightly breathless.

You grinned widely, feeling the rush of warmth flood your chest. “I love you too, Spence.”

You leaned back against the couch, still smiling, not wanting to break the moment. “So… you like it?” you asked, your smile still playing at your lips. You were almost teasing him now.

“I love it,” Spencer replied, his voice still breathless, as if he were still processing everything that had just happened. His mind was racing, thoughts colliding with each other in a mix of awe, disbelief, and joy. 

Spencer paused, his gaze never leaving you. Finally, he found his voice again, though it was quieter than usual. “I... I think if Zeus could see us now, he’d regret ever splitting us apart in the first place.” 

The words hung in the air between you, and a soft laugh bubbled up from your chest at the image of Zeus, the all-powerful god, trying to meddle in your fate. 

“Yeah,” you giggled, your smile widening. “He would.” 

You both stayed there in comfortable silence for a moment.

The only sound was the soft rustle of pages turning as Spencer continued to look at the book in his hands, but you knew his mind wasn’t on the words inside. It was on you. 

Later that night, after the books had been set aside , you found yourself curled up next to Spencer in bed. His arm was draped loosely around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your arm.

Spencer broke the silence first, his voice soft , as if he’d been turning something over in his mind for a while. “You know,” he began, his tone thoughtful, “what you said earlier… about Zeus and the myth. It’s been on my mind all evening.” 

You tilted your head slightly to look at him, your cheek resting against his chest. “Oh?” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips. “What about it?” 

He hesitated for a moment, his fingers stilling on your arm as he gathered his thoughts. “It’s just… I’ve always loved that myth. The idea of soulmates, of two halves finding each other again. But I never really thought about it in the context of… well, us.” His voice grew quieter, almost shy. “And then you said that. About your punishment being over. And I… I don’t know. It just made me realize how much you mean to me.” 

You felt your chest tighten at his words, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the blankets or the cozy room. “Spencer…” you started, but he gently interrupted you, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair from your face. 

“I’ve always been someone who thinks in facts, in data, in logic. Love… it’s not something you can quantify or measure. It’s not something you can predict or calculate. But with you, it’s different. It’s like… like you’ve rewritten all the equations in my head. You’ve made me believe in things I never thought I could. And I… I just want you to know how much I love you. How much I adore you.” 

You shifted slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow so you could look at him properly. “I love you too” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “Maybe even more, if that’s possible.” 

He smiled. “It’s not possible,” he said, his voice light now, teasing. “I’ve done the calculations.” 

You laughed, the sound soft and warm in the quiet room. “Of course you have,” you said, shaking your head fondly.

 Spencer’s smile widened, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, secure embrace. His lips brushing against your forehead.

 Spencer’s fingers returned to tracing patterns on your arm, and you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you. 

But just as you were drifting off, Spencer’s voice broke the silence once more, soft and almost hesitant. “You know,” he said, his tone playful now, “if Zeus really did split us apart, I think he did a pretty terrible job. Because I’m pretty sure you’re more than just my other half. You’re…you’re my everything.” 

You smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with affection. “Sap,” you teased, though your voice was thick with emotion. 

“Only for you,” he replied, his voice warm and full of love.

And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the myth wasn’t so far off after all. 

[chaoticgremelin]

Neil is that stray cat who will scratch the absolute sh*t out of you if you try to hug or pet it

He needs ppl who will just accept his presence there, no matter how many cups he pushes off of the balcony(and he WILL push every mug or cup he has the opportunity to, bc he is just waiting for the time it is gonna be too much and everyone is gonna leave him, like he is used to) and ppl who will not bother or make a big deal out of it once he eventually decides to get close and lay on their laps or by their side. But getting close has to be his decision, bc his problem isnt that he thinks no one would ever show him love, his problem is that he believes he is too much and that this love will never be something permanent, at some point he is gonna cause too much trouble and ppl will give up on him. So he has to be the one to get close and he just needs ppl to be prepared for when he realizes they arent backing away, no matter how hard he tries to make them. Those are the Foxes. They respected all his limits (biggest example is the shower thing), stayed away as long as he needed to (but always in arms reach) and once he believed he had gone too far and nobody would be there for him (Baltimore), they still are there waiting. Thats when he opens up and allows them to come in his world. He would never survive the Trojans shower of affection or their worried intromissions in his life (not bc he didnt like them, but bc he would never see them as genuine, so he would see it as threat and run)

Jean is that dog that has been beaten and put to sleep on the outside way too many times. He doesnt know love, but he also doesnt know freedom. He doesnt need ppl to prove that they will stick by him, bc his abusers have stuck by his side all his life. He needs ppl to prove to him that they will stay by his side not because they hate or despise him, but because they love him deeply. Once he sees affection he will find it weird, but he will accept it (bc he was taught not to bite, unlike tge stray cat, that learned to bite and scratch at the smallest sign of a threat) long enough to actually start liking it. He will see the love he never had and even though it scares the fuck out of him, he will stay. He doesnt believe anybody would ever love him, but he has wished to be a loved qll his life with every cell of his body, so once he is in fact loved, even though it scares him and he doesnt think he desearves it, he cant help but to be drawn by it. For him it feels like a trap (why would anybody ever love HIM??), but he just cant help to fall for it. And once he realizes it in fact isnt a trap and that ppl actually like and find him worthy, he will also start to give this love back, bc thats all he ever wanted, to love and be loved. It still feels like ge is in a fever dream, but he just wants to enjoy every single part of it, like someone who has walked on a desert for days and suddenly finds a river with clean water

They are completely different, but at the same both Neil and Jean just wanted to find a family, to find ppl who would love and accept them for who they were and both have found it 🥹🥹

I just love them so much

The more I think about the differences between how the Trojans show affection vs how the Foxes do, the more I come to the conclusion that they unwittingly created the perfect environment for Jean and Neil’s arcs respectively.

Take for example the way Cat and Laila show Jean affection. The forehead kisses, the hugs, the endless reassurance and compassion. It may go without saying but Neil would’ve hated it if he ended up in that situation. He would’ve booked it faster than you can say Wesninski. But Jean? I mean sure he was baffled at first, but the way he grows to lean into it? The way he shows affection the same way back? Jean needed that brand of affection in a way Neil won’t ever. He needed to learn that he was deserving of such love; that there are people out there now who cared about him as deeply as he does them.

Neil on the other hand needed to learn a whole different set of lessons. The Foxes showing him that they care was less such obvious displays of love and more about patience in the face of his complications. More about their willingness to stick by him when the fabricated life he clung so hard to unraveled at the seams. Jean wouldn’t have flourished as much in that environment because he didn’t need understanding as much as he needed love. He didn’t need someone to help piece his life back together as much as he needed someone to love what was already there.

Neil is like an innocent looking stray cat that the foxes still kept even when they got bit; while Jean is like an abused show dog that the Trojans nurse back to health. And good lord do I love them both for it.

[mmso-notlikethat]

Oops!

listen that leak prompt was way too good for me not to write something lmao

E Ι [Read below or on ao3]

The air between them felt charged, but not in the way it used to be. Now, it was awkward—hesitant.

Tommy shifted on his feet, arms crossed as if bracing himself for the conversation he hadn’t been prepared for. The call was over, the chaos had settled, and yet here they were, lingering in something neither of them knew how to navigate.

"H-hey, Ev—Buck!" Tommy corrected himself quickly, clearing his throat.

Buck, who had been dusting off his gloves, looked up, his blue eyes flickering with something lost.

"How are you doing?" Tommy asked, forcing a small smile. "You look good!"

Buck exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "H-hey…" He gulped. "Y-yeah, yeah, you—you look—great!" He winced immediately because great was an understatement. Tommy still looked effortlessly good, even in the middle of a long shift, exhaustion lingering in his eyes but not dulling them.

The silence stretched, and for a moment, Buck thought maybe Tommy would say something to make it easier. But Tommy just nodded, his lips pressed together in that way Buck recognized—like he was bracing himself.

So Buck spoke instead.

"Eddie left—to Texas!" Buck blurted out, the words landing awkwardly.

Tommy blinked, caught off guard. "Oh."

"He didn’t tell you?" Buck asked, his brows furrowing slightly.

"Uh—no… no, we—we didn’t talk," Tommy admitted, his voice quieter.

"Oh."

The weight of that single syllable hung between them.

There it was again—that awkward weight pressing down on them. Buck shifted uncomfortably.

Tommy offered a small, lopsided smile, like he was trying to smooth out the rough edges of the conversation.

Buck exhaled, shifting on his feet. "I, uh… I live in his house now. My house, I guess." He frowned. "Well, I took over his lease."

Tommy hummed in acknowledgment, nodding slowly. "That… makes sense."

Another pause. Another shift of weight.

"That’s… good," Tommy finally said with a smile, a smile buck missed so much.

"Yeah," Buck murmured. He wasn’t sure if it was.

Buck swallowed, glancing down at his boots before looking back up at Tommy. The way Tommy smiled—it was small, fleeting, but real—made something in Buck’s chest tighten.

"Well," Tommy said, exhaling softly. "I should—uh, I should get going."

Buck nodded, shifting again. "Yeah. Right."

Neither of them moved.

For a moment, it felt like something else could be said, like one of them might reach out and press pause on the inevitable parting. But the weight of too much unsaid settled between them, and Tommy finally took a step back.

"See you around, Buck," Tommy said, voice even, but there was something underneath it.

Buck forced a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Y-yeah… see you around."

Tommy nodded, lingering for a second too long before turning away.

Buck watched him walk off, jaw tight, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

He wasn’t sure why, but something about this goodbye felt different. Maybe because he wasn’t sure if it was really a goodbye at all.

*

"Tommy?"

Buck frowned when he opened the door and saw Tommy standing there—looking as perfect as ever, even in a bland black Henley that somehow always fit him too well. The dim porch light cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw, the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"What? N-no—I mean, yeah, everything is fine, nothing’s wrong!" Tommy stammered, shifting on his feet. He let out a breathy, almost nervous chuckle, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Didn’t mean to freak you out or anything."

Buck exhaled, nodding. "Good."

Except it didn’t feel good. It felt weird. Off-kilter. Tommy showing up out of nowhere, standing in front of him like this—it threw Buck off balance in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

Tommy’s lips parted like he wanted to say something, but instead, he just exhaled sharply and shook his head. "Sorry… sorry, this is dumb. I don’t know why I’m here. I should go."

He turned, already half-stepping back toward the porch stairs.

"What! No, wait!" The words left Buck’s mouth faster than he could think about them.

Tommy stopped. Looked back at him. His brows pinched slightly, like he was trying to figure Buck out.

Buck swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of the way the cool night air prickled against his skin. "Uh—I mean, you’re here. Don’t just go… c-come inside."

Tommy hesitated.

He really hesitated. His fingers twitched at his sides, his weight shifting again. "Buck, I—"

Buck took a breath. "It’s just—" He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "You came all the way here. Don’t leave like this. Just—come in. Okay?"

Tommy studied him for a long moment, then nodded. A small, barely-there nod, but it was enough.

Buck stepped aside, opening the door wider.

For a second, Tommy still didn’t move. Then, finally, he walked past him, stepping into the house.

Silence settled between them as Buck shut the door behind them.

The click of the latch sounded louder than it should have.

The door clicked shut behind Tommy, sealing them inside together. The air in the house was warmer than outside, but it wasn’t just the heat—it was them, the weight of something unspoken pressing into the space between them.

Buck rubbed the back of his neck, his heartbeat thrumming louder than it should. “Uh—want a drink? Beer? Water?” He barely recognized his own voice.

Tommy stood near the entrance, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. His eyes flickered around the room, but they always landed back on Buck.

The air between them was thick—too much, too close, too everything.

Tommy exhaled, finally dragging a hand through his hair, his gaze flickering to Buck before he spoke. "I couldn’t stop thinking about you."

Buck’s breath hitched.

Tommy let out a sharp, almost frustrated exhale, shaking his head. "Since I saw you today—hell, since the day I left, actually." His voice was rough around the edges, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but now that he had, he couldn’t stop.

"I told myself I shouldn’t come here, that I shouldn’t—shouldn’t make things more complicated. But then I kept thinking about it. About you. About everything I—"

He didn’t get to finish.

Buck surged forward, grabbed Tommy’s face, and kissed him.

A deep, feverish kiss, all impulse and heat, cutting off Tommy’s words like they didn’t matter—because right now, they didn’t.

Tommy inhaled sharply against Buck’s lips, his whole body going rigid for a split second—stunned—before instinct kicked in. His hands, hesitant at first, fisted into Buck’s shirt, pulling him in like the space between them was unbearable. The kiss was messy, desperate, too much and not enough all at once.

Buck could feel Tommy’s heartbeat against his own, feel the way he sighed into it—like he was sinking, like this was the only place he wanted to be.

When they finally pulled apart, gasping for breath, Tommy’s lips were red, kiss-swollen, his pupils blown wide.

"W-wha—" he tried to say, barely able to string words together—

But Buck didn’t let him.

He kissed him again.

Harder. Hungrier. Like he wasn’t ready to let him speak yet, like words would only ruin it.

Tommy inhaled sharply through his nose, startled for half a second before he gave in, gripping Buck’s waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt like he needed something to hold onto. The kiss was just as messy as the first—desperate, heady, too much and not enough all at once.

And then, between fevered gasps, Tommy broke away just enough to mumble, "I came here to talk."

Buck’s breath was ragged, his forehead brushing against Tommy’s as he barely pulled back. "Yeah, I know."

But before Tommy could say anything else, Buck caught his bottom lip again, kissing him deep, swallowing whatever words he had left. Tommy made a soft noise—half frustration, half surrender—and Buck felt his resolve slipping.

"Not this," Tommy murmured between kisses, but his hands never let go, gripping Buck tighter, like he was saying one thing and meaning another.

Buck hesitated for the first time—just for a second. Just long enough for Tommy’s words to sink in. Pulled back just enough to blink at him, breath shaky, lips red. "You sure?"

Tommy let out a breath, eyes dark, conflicted. "I—" He shook his head like he was trying to clear his thoughts, but then—then he was pushing Buck back, kissing him harder.

"Not this, Buck."

Buck let out a shaky laugh against Tommy’s lips, hands slipping to Tommy’s back, pulling him in tighter. "Well, if we’re doing this—you better call me Evan."

Tommy didn’t answer.

Didn’t speak at all.

Just kissed him.

Deeper. Rougher. Like he was trying to drown in it, in Buck, in something that had been building since the second they laid eyes on each other earlier that day. Their bodies pressed together, hands desperate, mouths parting only to crash back into each other. The moans slipped between them without either of them meaning to—needy, breathless, raw.

And then, suddenly—

Tommy hoisted him up.

Buck gasped against his lips, a startled, choked-off sound as Tommy’s hands gripped the backs of his thighs and lifted him like he weighed nothing.

His back hit the nearest wall with a soft thud, Tommy’s body pressed flush against him. Buck’s legs wrapped instinctively around Tommy’s waist, arms winding around his neck to steady himself.

Tommy’s grip was firm, solid, like he wasn’t even thinking about it—like holding Buck up was just natural.

Tommy’s strength had always been ridiculous, but feeling it like this again—feeling himself being handled so effortlessly—sent a shiver down Buck’s spine. God, he missed this so much.

"We shouldn’t do this, Evan," Tommy murmured, his lips ghosting over Buck’s jaw, his breath hot, uneven.

Buck gasped against Tommy’s lips, gripping his shoulders tighter. His back was pressed against the wall, their bodies flush, but he could already feel the strain in his legs from being held up like this.

"W-we should go to the bedroom," Buck managed to pant between kisses, his fingers tightening in Tommy’s hair. "No stairs here."

Tommy groaned softly, the sound vibrating between them, his breath heavy against Buck’s cheek. He didn’t answer right away—just pressed another lingering kiss to Buck’s lips, then another, like he wasn’t ready to stop.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to smirk against Buck’s skin. "Yeah?" His voice was rough, teasing, but there was a flicker of something else—something deeper.

Buck swallowed hard, his stomach flipping at the heat in Tommy’s gaze. "Y-yeah," he breathed. "Unless you wanna hold me up all night."

Tommy huffed out a laugh, adjusting his grip around Buck’s thighs like the weight didn’t even faze him. "Could."

Buck’s breath hitched at the sheer confidence in his tone. "Tommy—"

But before he could say anything else, Tommy hoisted him up more securely and started walking.

Buck clung to him, feeling every step, every shift of muscle beneath him, his pulse thrumming wildly.

God, he missed this.

In a minute, he was on his back.

The world around them blurred, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting flickering shadows across the sheets. Nothing else existed—just heat, just hands, just the weight of Tommy against him, between his legs, surrounding him.

Tommy hovered over him, lips brushing along Buck’s jaw, down his neck, his hands mapping familiar territory—like he was trying to relearn Buck’s body, remind himself how it felt, how it fit against his own. Buck arched into his touch, fingers gripping at Tommy’s shoulders, pulling him closer, needing more.

Their clothes disappeared between kisses, tossed aside without thought. Every inch of Buck’s skin burned under Tommy’s touch—his hands, his mouth, the teasing scrape of his teeth against Buck’s collarbone.

Tommy had wanted to talk. That’s why he came here. That’s why he stood on Buck’s doorstep, fumbled through his words, why he almost left before Buck stopped him.

But now—now he couldn’t seem to stop kissing him.

"I—" Tommy started, his voice uneven as his hands skimmed down Buck’s sides, nails dragging lightly, making Buck shiver. "Fuck, I was—was supposed to—" He broke off, groaning as Buck rolled his hips up, pushing against him in a way that made his entire train of thought derail.

Buck’s fingers tangled in Tommy’s hair, tugging lightly. "What? You were supposed to what, Tommy?" His voice was breathy, teasing, and it sent something sharp through Tommy’s stomach, something almost desperate.

"Talk," Tommy mumbled against Buck’s skin, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss just beneath his jaw. "I was supposed to talk."

Buck laughed softly, breath hitching when Tommy bit at his neck. "Yeah? And how’s that going?"

Tommy exhaled roughly, dragging his hips against Buck’s, swallowing both of their groans as the friction sent sparks through them.

Buck gasped, his head tilting back into the pillows, fingers flexing against Tommy’s back. "Shit—Tommy—"

They shouldn’t be doing this. Tommy knew that. But the way Buck moved beneath him, the way his hands clung to him like he was afraid Tommy would disappear—God, how was he supposed to stop?

Buck was flushed, breathless, looking up at him with blown pupils, his lips red and kiss-swollen.

"I wanted—" Tommy tried again, voice shaky, forehead pressing against Buck’s. "I needed to—"

"Tommy," Buck whispered, lifting his hips just enough to make Tommy feel him, and whatever words Tommy had left were completely, utterly gone.

Instead, he kissed him.

Slow at first, teasing, then deeper, rougher, hands mapping familiar territory, gripping Buck’s hips, holding him steady as they moved together, rolling, chasing something inevitable.

Tommy was breathing hard, Buck’s moans mixing with his own, their bodies pressing closer, tighter, their movements turning erratic.

And then, Tommy slid his hand between them, wrapping around both of them, stroking them together, his pace firm, deliberate.

Buck gasped—a full-body tremor—his nails scraping down Tommy’s back as his thighs tightened around him. "Fuck—fuck, Tommy—"

The rhythm between them became frantic, desperate. Buck was already teetering, on the edge of something blinding, something unstoppable.

"God—fuck—" Buck gasped, his fingers slipping against Tommy’s shoulders, his body tensing beneath him, trembling as he finally shattered, white-hot pleasure crashing over him.

That was all it took.

Tommy followed a second later, groaning deeply against Buck’s neck, his breath stuttering, his body locking up before shuddering violently through it. His hand slowed between them, drawing out every last wave, every last tremor, until Buck was boneless beneath him, his chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths.

The room was silent except for their harsh breathing, the weight of what they’d just done pressing down on them.

Tommy didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stayed there, his face still buried against Buck’s neck, like if he moved too fast, everything would shatter.

Buck let out a breathless, dazed laugh, one hand sliding up to card through Tommy’s hair.

"So…" Buck started, still slightly breathless, "Did you say everything you needed to say?"

Tommy groaned into his skin, his laugh muffled, rough.

"Shut up, Evan." Tommy exhaled against Buck’s collarbone. "We really should talk."

Buck, still floating somewhere between bliss and exhaustion, hummed lazily, dragging his fingers along Tommy’s spine.

"Mmm. We will…" he murmured, a smirk curling against Tommy’s skin. "Eventually."

[melanchoire]

i need to be in the middle of g!p petalz (sakura and kazuha)… something about sakura being just the right amount of perverted and kazuha a full-time gentlelady makes me lose it? sakura would try upping her luck and trying so many different kinks that has you borderline using the safe word but kazuha keeps it demure and sweet… but this also means sakura is sorta corrupting kazuha and now she keeps manhandling you!

cw: breeding + creampie, deep throat, throat fucking.

kazuha kisses your lips as she slides her hands down your body, separating her lips from yours as her hands reach your shirt, murmuring a low “can i take this off? is that okay with you?” and looking at you in the sweetest way because she wants to make sure you're comfortable and keep you from being uncomfortable with anything 🥺💕 and then there is sakura who kneels behind you and practically rips your shorts along with your underwear off your legs, her mouth watering at the sight of your exposed ass and dripping pussy before her eyes 😵‍💫 of course, sakura’s perverted ass can only think about fucking whenever she sees a pretty girl, and now that you’re almost naked before her eyes, smoke is coming out of sakura’s head

sakura making fun of kazuha for being “too nice” to you and scolding her for it 😭 kazuha thought she was doing things the right way until sakura assured her that it’s much better and feels much more pleasure when you treat the person like a whore?? kazuha first hesitates a little and wants to refuse sakura’s request, but when she turns to see you and how you’re looking at both of them with a clear fear of what will happen next is something that ignites deep within her

sakura fucking you from behind 😵‍💫 her thick cock stretching your tight pussy in all the right ways, hitting all those sensitive spots and making you see stars with every thrust she was giving you… only being able to be moaning and whimpering, head thrown back as she moves her hips against your ass at a relentless pace, never getting enough of your tight pussy no matter how long or how hard she fucks you, nails digging into your hips in a painful grip, her movements getting faster and faster and everything becomes a mess WHILE kazuha is kneeling in front of you and making you choke on her thick cock 🤤 she has both hands holding your head, holding it in place to freely fuck your mouth… kazuha looking down at you, biting her lower lip and letting out heavy sighs or groaning every time the head of her cock hits the back of your throat

both are too messy to cum 😭 sakura not even considering retiring, instead opting to fill your pussy with her seed simultaneously with kazuha giving one last thrust against your face to fill your mouth with her cum…

and like anon said, sakura corrupts kazuha… so what if they both want to try how much cum can fit in your holes? 👀

[rosiecosy]

pass the baby˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(mingyu x reader) — fluff — part of the find the baby series

a/n — im alive !! i missed u guys fr🤍 thanks for being patient, here's a little sumn sumn. a little different from sleepy baby

long car rides always make you sleepy. something about the gentle hum of the engine, the way the road stretches endlessly outside the window, and the warmth of being surrounded by your members—it all makes your eyes droop no matter how hard you try to stay awake.

you don’t even remember when you fell asleep, but when you stir slightly, shifting your head, you realize you’re not leaning against the window anymore. instead, you’re pressed against mingyu’s shoulder, his hoodie soft beneath your cheek, his warmth making it impossible to pull away.

not that you’d want to.

mingyu shifts a little, careful not to wake you, adjusting his arm so you’re more comfortable against him. he glances down at you, his lips curling into a small smile at how peaceful you look, breathing softly, completely knocked out.

jeonghan, sitting in the front seat, catches him staring and smirks. "you're gonna burn a hole through her face if you keep looking at her like that."

mingyu blinks, snapping out of his daze, but the soft smile never leaves his lips. "can't help it," he mumbles.

dk, sitting across from you two, grins. "she's drooling on you."

mingyu just shrugs. "so?"

"so... that's kinda gross?"

"nah, it's cute," mingyu says without missing a beat, wrapping his arm more securely around you. "she's tired."

jeonghan snickers. "or maybe you're just whipped."

mingyu rolls his eyes, but there's no denying it. he is. he knows he is. it's not his fault you always fall asleep on him like this, like he's your personal pillow. not that he minds—if anything, he’s always ready for it, making sure to wear his comfiest hoodie on days when he knows you’ll be extra sleepy.

"should we wake her when we get there?" dino asks, peeking over from the seat behind you.

"no way," dk says immediately. "if we wake her up, she's gonna be grumpy."

"and clingy," jeonghan adds.

mingyu just smirks. "exactly. i win either way."

when the van pulls up to the dorm, seungcheol is already stretching in his seat, rolling his shoulders before reaching for his seatbelt.

"alright, you guys go first. i’ll carry her up."

mingyu immediately frowns. "i got it."

seungcheol raises a brow, pausing. "it’s part of the routine, mingyu."

"yeah, well. new routine," mingyu says smoothly, already adjusting his hold on you before seungcheol can protest.

jeonghan watches the exchange, thoroughly amused. "you’re so obvious."

"shut up," mingyu mutters, but he doesn’t let go. instead, he moves carefully, sliding one arm under your legs and the other around your back. lifting you is effortless—you're practically weightless in his arms, and he carries you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

"you guys act like she’s a baby," jeonghan teases, following closely behind.

mingyu grins, adjusting his hold as he steps out of the van. "she kinda is. my baby, at least."

dk pretends to gag, while dino just shakes his head, clearly used to mingyu's antics by now.

the dorm is quiet as they step inside, the soft shuffle of footsteps the only sound. dk rushes ahead to open doors, dino makes sure no one gets in the way, and jeonghan—well, jeonghan just follows along with his phone out, recording everything like he's narrating a documentary.

"this is ridiculous," jeonghan whispers into the camera. "our youngest member, everyone. too spoiled to walk on her own."

mingyu just smirks. "you’re just mad because she didn’t fall asleep on you."

"obviously. i would've filmed it."

"you’re filming it now!"

jeonghan shrugs. "gotta capture the moment."

just when mingyu is about to step into your room, jeonghan suddenly stops him. "wait, wait," he says, eyes gleaming mischievously. "let’s play pass the baby."

"pass the what?" dino asks, looking between them.

"pass the baby," jeonghan repeats, nodding toward you. "let's see how many members it takes to get her from the van to her bed."

mingyu glares. "are you insane?"

"what? she's literally asleep. she won't even notice," jeonghan argues, grinning. "come on, just once!"

seungcheol sighs, rubbing his temples. "why do i feel like this is going to end badly?"

"because it always does," dk says, laughing.

mingyu exhales sharply, but before anyone makes a move, you shift slightly, groaning sleepily.

"what…?" your voice is groggy, barely above a whisper.

"you're awake?" jeonghan pouts. "man, we were gonna have fun."

you rub your eyes, still disoriented. "fun…?"

"we were gonna play pass the baby," dk supplies helpfully.

you blink at him, then at mingyu, then back at jeonghan. "...pass the what?"

"it’s exactly what it sounds like," dino explains. "we pass you around like a baby."

you stare at them for a long second, then sigh. "i'm too tired for this."

jeonghan grins. "so that’s a yes?"

you yawn, resting your head back against mingyu’s chest. "only if mingyu goes last."

mingyu smirks in triumph, shooting jeonghan a smug look. "you heard her."

you hum sleepily, nodding. "just don’t drop me."

"no promises," jeonghan says, laughing as mingyu reluctantly passes you over.

one by one, the members carefully hold you, making a show of dramatically cradling you like an actual baby. dino even rocks you back and forth, earning a sleepy giggle from you.

but when it’s mingyu’s turn again, he takes you back effortlessly, holding you securely against him. "game over," he declares, already walking towards his room instead of yours.

"that’s cheating!" jeonghan protests.

mingyu ignores him, kicking the door shut behind him as he lays you down on his bed. as soon as your head hits the pillow, you let out a soft sigh, nuzzling into the blankets that smell like him.

mingyu watches you for a moment before leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"night, baby," he murmurs.

you hum sleepily, shifting closer to him.

mingyu chuckles, wrapping an arm around you, holding you close. "such a baby," he murmurs again.

from the other side of the door, jeonghan’s voice rings out.

"you guys are disgusting."

[siri-ike]

The flash of green light was so bright that she could see it through the thick blindfold. Seconds later, she managed to undo her restraints. She swiftly rolled backward and ripped off her blindfold, ready to fight.

Only to see she was in a totally different room. With totally different people/skeletons. On the plus side, she wasn't bleeding anymore. She was unfortunately covered in blood from the floor. It just wasn't hers. And the skeletons weren't even attacking. Most of them were dusting. Only one of them was even looking at her. Probably. They don't have eyes, so they could be looking anywhere, or nowhere, maybe they can't see. Steph moves slowly to the right, and the skeleton in front of her turns its head. Ok, so it could see her.

Steph reached for any of her weapons, but alas, those cultists must have disarmed her while she was unconscious. She scanned the room for an exit, but all she saw was a seemingly endless room full of neatly organized treasure, dead animals, uncontained blood covering the entire floor, and most of her costume and, FOOD!! The second the huge pile caught her eye, her stomach practically yelled at her. The skeletons all turned towards her at the sound. They looked at each other, confused? Did the rest really not notice her before? They all stepped closer, and Steph grabbed a nearby brick from a pile. It looked out of place with everything else there. The skeletons looked at each other again. That's when the charades started. One of them pointed to its scull, one of them pointed to the empty space beneath its ribcage, some were gesturing to objects in the room. It was all too much to understand at once. She held the brick close to her and slowly backed away, then she turned and ran.

No matter how far or how fast she ran, the room still felt endlessly big and full of skeletons. She looked up to confirm. There was a ceiling, which meant there had to be walls holding it up. She could try climbing one of the pillars to see further, but then she would certainly be cought. The piles would be safer in terms of getting away again but much less stable. The food piles would be way too soft, the brick pile was way too small and clearly an outlier, and no way is she going anywhere near the dead animal piles. Treasure pile it is. Gold is not easy to climb. It's almost like a sand hill, except each grain is huge. So, like a hill of pebbles. At the top, she could see that the room absolutely is endless in every direction.

She sniffled. Looking back, she made sure to slide down in the direction with the fewest skeletons, which she avoided on the way to a food pile. She wanted to cry, but she needed to eat. She wanted a place to hide, too, but aside from taking from the piles and building the most obvious hiding spot, she didn't have any opinions. At least the skeletons in this part either didn't know she was here or just didn't care. Either way, they weren't paying her any attention. She reached a food pile, and aside from the fact it was sitting in the world's biggest pool of blood, everything looked fresh. She looked around and grabbed a loaf of bread. The drinks all looked like wine, problem for later. She spotted one of the skeletons walking by, but it barely even glanced at her. She looked back to the pile. The bread loafs obviously can't help with hydration. The meat wouldn't help with that either since it's cooked. Vegetables would be the best option, but there wasn't nearly as much of it. Up and down the pile. She hoped to find something like a watermelon or coconut. She did spot some fruit and, in her head, tried to balance what would pair best together for her nutritional needs rather than taste, and keeping in mind what is within reach. She settled on some salmon and a cupple handfuls of strawberries. All the while keeping an eye on any skeletons passing by.

After a while, she stopped watching the skeletons all together. Her full stomach and the running earlier caught up with her, and all she wanted to do was take a nap. If only there was a pile of with a bed in it.

Just like that, the piles started moving around. They cleared a straight wide hallway and, towards her, slid a large pile of fancy old furniture. High up and sitting sideways was a big, qeen size bed. In a much more accessible place and position was a rather nice-looking couch. But, no way was she about to sleep in it 4 feet of the ground, so she pulled on it until it and some other stuff came crashing to the floor. 6 nearby skeletons looked her way, but only 2 approached. She didn't even look up as they walked right past her and put back the furniture that fell down. When they turned to take the couch, she quickly jumped on it. If they were going to put it back, then they may as well put her back with it, but no. They just left her alone. Once again, the piles moved, this time making way for her and the couch. They seemed to have an equal amount of space to the other piles.

She lay her head down. It wasn't soft, but hey, at least she wasn't lying in blood. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. She was knocked out earlier. She could be concussed. Crap. How do you check yourself for a concussion?

Steph woke up to a skeleton dusting her, which caused he to sneeze. All nearby skeletons rushed toward her in a panic. One insistently wiped her face while another frantically cleaned the couch with a wet napkin. She sat up and noticed her clothes had not only been cleaned of all blood and salmon fat, but all holes had been patched, too. Even her shoes looked cleaner than they'd ever been. So clean, she didn't wanna dirty them again by stepping in the pool of blood. Her stomach growled again, but this time, the skeletons seemed concerned, so she decided to try something. She looked around and spotted the nearest food pile. As soon as she stepped off the couch, the piles started shifting again. She sat back down, and they returned to their places. The skeleton who had been dusting her scurried off and brought back a platter of baked root vegetables. Are they cooking these? How is it still warm? Two other skeletons drought over a fancy dresser and placed it next to the couch, so they were touching.

"Thanks." She said awkwardly. Four of the skeletons walked away, but three stayed. They had this look, like they wanted to help but didn't know how.

Steph reached her hand toward the tray on the dresser but stopped. "Do you have utensils?"

One rushed off, and Steph could feel the piles shifting around her. It came back with an engraved wooden box full of fine silverware.

"How about water?"

They looked at her and each other, completely lost.

"Uhm, juice? Or just a non alcoholic, uncaffenated drink?"

They perked up at the request. Once again, the piles moved, and one of them fetched a wooden crate. It was full of collectors edition diet sodas from a number of fandoms.

Steph could get used to this.

(This takes place after Summer of change and Mad science private school but in a different timeliness from A little crime, as a treat)

DPxDC Prompt #17

There is a room Danny's Keep he set up shortly after defeating Pariah Dark. It became necessary when the broader magical community realized Pariah had be defeated and therefore a new King took his throne. Danny found himself briefly bombarded with waves of attempted summonings.

Which, the summonings themselves, wouldn't have been so bad. Turns out people can't just drag the King of Ghosts to themselves on a whim. Danny has to actively accept a summoning to get pulled to it. And if he just decides "No," the pull and whispers go away. No problem there.

No, the problem is the offerings. And sacrifices. The things that people put in the circle as payment for even attempting to summon him. Like having to put a quarter in the payphone just to listen to it ring and ring and ring as the person on the other end of the call doesn't pick up. Since the summoning magic regarded these things as belonging to Danny even if he rejected the summons, they usually ended up just materializing in front of him if he didn't go to them.

Which, okay. It was funny that time he got to end a fight with Vlad very fast when a whole gold bar materialized and dropped on his head. And the food was nice sometimes when it was late and everywhere was closed and his parents had left samples in the fridge to contaminate everything into animation again. But the goat head dropping from the ceiling onto his desk during on of Lancer's English tests was not appreciated. Even if it did get the test rescheduled and the whole school shut down for a few days to investigate the "potentially satanic activity."

So, yeah, it was a bit of a problem. Fortunately, it was a problem with a relatively simple solution. Danny set up an inbox. With a bit of help from Tucker and Pandora, and a couple tips from Clockwork; all summoning offerings and sacrifices would now go straight to the dedicated room in the Keep.

And! As a special touch, the summoners would also get a chipper, automated voice saying, "The Ghost King you are trying to summon has more important things to do than answer you right now. Please leave a message in the circle with your name, date, location, contact information, and reason for summoning. The Ghost King will get back to you at his earliest convenience." Sam's stupid fancy girl gala voice had been perfect for that little message.

It was the perfect solution. Danny no longer had to deal with randomly materializing offerings putting his secret identity at risk. Pariah's skeletons, who had been antsy for something to do now that they were no longer bent under the thumb of a cruel tyrant, were instructed to take care of all the offerings; making sure everything was always cleaned up and put away. And all Danny had to do was stop by periodically to check in and "Officially respond" -ie, write a fuck off note- to the summoning messages (Clockwork's insistence).

A perfect solution. Up until Danny checked in one day to find the skellies pampering a whole ass boy. No. Not just any boy. Danny recognizes that costume.

"Why is Robin here?"

[leclercsixteen]

𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒅𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒌 ! ᶜˡ¹⁶

in the name of someone i no longer know ⋆˚࿔

𝓬harles leclerc x 𝓶ale reader synopsis: reader and charles haven’t spoken since greece and reader goes off the hook, resulting in lewis hamilton having to pick him up a police station. charles gets worried and y/n gets mad. (somebody else pt. 2)

genre: angst, smau, slightly suggestive warnings: reader gets drunk + detained

author's note: kind of forgot that i made reader a driver in the first part so i kind if wrote him as someone who’s on the ferrari team. lewis and y/n are bsfs iktr!!

masterlist. navigation. part one.

HE SAT THERE, silent, as the dial tone rang in his ear like an annoying fly that couldn't get the hint. The cord to the phone was wrapped around his left pointer finger like a teenage girl talking to her crush in the 90s with her rotary phone, but he was far from happy. He wasn't as drunk as he usually is these days, but his head pounded as he stared at the white brick wall opposite him, the metal of handcuffs making his skin cold and his under eye and chin stung.

"Kid?" The officer asked, his brows furrowed as he moved to catch y/n's eyes. "You alright?"

Y/n brought the phone away from his ear and looked down at it as if it had personally offended him, not the person he called. Probably caught up with his girlfriend, he scoffed in his head. He cursed Charles and grunted in response.

"He didn't pick up," y/n blinked. His brows were furrowed, and his thumb ran alongside the dated phone. When the police took him in, they confiscated his phone, wallet, and everything else he had in his pockets, including a small picture of him and Charles from when they were younger. "That fucker," y/n laughed as he shook his head. "Of course he didn't, why would he?" He asked himself.

The officers who detained y/n looked at each other with furrowed brows. “Sorry about that, man,” one of the officers mumbled as he shook his head. It wasn’t the first time someone’s emergency call didn’t pick up, but y/n seemed genuinely frantic as he punched in the familiar numbers into the phone.

Y/n sighed, “It’s alright.”

Eventually, after getting no text response and seeing that his phone location was at the police station, Lewis came and pulled him out of the cell. He tried not to be shocked and worried at the bruises that decorated the small sections of y/n’s face. Y/n wasn’t in a drunken haze anymore, but he leaned against Lewis as the older man signed different papers and took back all of y/n’s belongings.

Lewis’s thumb ran over the small photo of y/n and Charles. He shook his head and sighed. Since joining Ferrari, he’s become close with both Charles and y/n and has unceremoniously become the mediator between the two after their wreck of a Greece trip.

“C’mon,” Lewis heaved y/n’s arm over his shoulder and helped him out of the police station—after thanking the officers—and he brought y/n to his car and helped him into the passenger seat. “You need help?” Lewis gestured toward the seatbelt, but his question was left unanswered as y/n reached over his shoulder and grabbed the seatbelt on his own.

Lewis nodded and made his way over to the driver's side. They sat there in silence for a minute, both unable to find the words to start a conversation. Y/n’s hands were wrung together, and his fingers tugged at different parts of his opposite hand to ground himself while Lewis watched from the driver's seat.

“What happened?” Lewis was the one to break the ice. His question was gentle, and his eyes remained on y/n’s hands, which seemed to falter at the question, but his hand vaguely gestured towards y/n’s face.

Y/n swallowed hard. “I was at a bar,” y/n mumbled out, “and it was a popular sports bar, and they were showing clips of Charles. Some dude made a comment about him, so I punched him, and he fought back.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I was drunk; I didn’t know what I was doing. I don’t want to keep throwing punches for someone I don’t know anymore,” his voice quiet as he looked down at his hands, which rested in his lap.

Lewis nodded, and his eyes held empathy. “I get it,” he starts, “it sucks. Losing someone like that, but you can’t let it get you down. You’ve been spiraling since Greece; you need to show him that you don’t care anymore. You’re better than this, y/n.”

Y/n turned to look at Lewis. There were tears in his eyes, but they had yet to fall and stain his cheeks. His eyes were red and stung. “What if I don’t feel better than this? What if I feel like this is what I’m supposed to do: mourn the relationship I could’ve had?” He was one blink away from sending his brewing tears cascading down his red cheeks.

The older man scoffs a laugh and he looked away and at the parking lot. He shook his head as he smiled. Lewis turned back to y/n, “You are better than this; I know it. You are Y/n L/n, the best best friend someone could ask for, alright?”

A small smile graced y/n’s face—at least it was something.

“Okay,” Lewis turned suddenly and turned the car on, “we are going to get you some sweet treats from the station and we are going to watch a movie tonight. You start thinking while I drive, okay?”

Y/n sniffed and wiped his brewing tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. He laughed smally, “Okay.”

liked by scuderiaferrari, lando, lewishamilton, and others tagged: lewishamilton

youruser woke up hungover asf just for lewis to tell me that i got detained last night??

view all comments

lewishamilton nurse he’s awake ⤷ youruser can’t afford getting detained twice in less than 24 hours 💔

userone why am i not surprised?

usertwo at least you look hot ?? ⤷ youruser pls i always look hot

userthree omg is that friends 🙏🙏 ⤷ youruser lewis told me to put on a movie so i put on friends

userfour nah i ship these two ⤷ userfive FREAK!!!!! of nature!!!! that’s like a 20 year age gap my brother in christ

lando how did you even manage that?? ⤷ youruser apparently by punching a guy in a bar ??? ⤷ lando did he deserve it? ⤷ youruser eh not really but it was fun ⤷ lando then that’s all that matters 🤍

usersix i miss charyn 💔💔 ⤷ userseven yeah well i don’t FUCK that mofo he didn’t care for y/n’s feelings and just dropped him out of nowhere

"WHAT WERE YOU even thinking?!" Y/n wasn't sure what he did to be yelled at by Charles in Charles's living room in his Monaco home. There was a quiet and occasional rumble of cars that passed by the apartment window while y/n sat on the piano bench, dejected. His fingers pulled at the skin of his hands, a nervous tick that he had just recently recognized.

Shortly after y/n posted on Instagram, Charles texted him. It was the first time they'd talked since Greece, and while y/n didn't want to show up at Charles's apartment, he knew he was starting to reach his breaking point, and it was quite obvious.

So, here he was, sitting in front of Charles like a scolded child while Charles pulled at his hair in frustration and Leo, Charles's dog, ran around Charles's feet with a toy larger than him in his mouth.

"Do you know what will happen to you because you got arrested?" Charles asked, his legs moving quick back and forth in a line. If he paced any more, he would burn a hole in the floor; y/n was sure of it. "They'll reprimand you, merde; they might even fire you, y/n!"

Y/n just shrugged. "Why do you care?" He asked, and he watched from the corner of his eyes as Charles stopped pacing and turned to face him. Y/n's eyes remained on his hands despite the air around the two of them stilling; no cars drove past, and Leo stilled by Charles's planted feet.

"Why do I care?" Charles scoffed a laugh as he repeated y/n's question. He pointed at himself and shook his head. "Y/n, why do I care? Y/n I've been your best friend for years! I quite literally helped you get your job at Ferrari. What do you mean: why do I care?"

It was y/n's turn to laugh. His hands fell out of his view as he moved his head to look up at Charles, who only stood a couple of steps away from the piano bench where y/n sat. Y/n's chin stung as he smirked, "Yeah, why do you care?" He leaned forward, "You stopped talking to me and interacting with me after Greece. When Lewis became involved with Ferrari, he had to be our little messenger pigeon because you can't seem to look past the fact that I had a small crush on you.”

Charles stood there speechless, his jaw dropped like y/n had said something wrong. But, y/n wasn’t done.

“I have been going through hell the past couple of months because of it,” y/n grumbles. He stands from the piano bench and steps forward toward Charles. One more step, and they would be too close for comfort. “You didn’t seem to care then when I was struggling to do my job right because I just lost my best friend, but no, you were doing perfectly fine. You didn’t need me.”

Unbeknownst to y/n, Charles glances down at y/n's lips quickly. Just a glance, nothing more.

Y/n took another step, a finger pointing in Charles’s face as he got closer until their chests were almost touching. “You might not be the same, but I would still die for you, Charles. Even after you acted like I didn’t exist after Greece, I would die for you, Charles. I would die a fucking drunkard, because apparently that’s what I am now,” y/n shrugs and scoffs a laugh. “I’m done with you, Charles. Done, alright?” Y/n takes a step back as he shakes his head.

Without a word from Charles, y/n walks toward the door with Leo following after him. Y/n slams the door shut before Leo even has the chance to run out with y/n. Charles stands still in his apartment as a loud car drives past; the sound of the car slamming its breaks to weave through the tight and winding roads of Monaco overwhelms his ears. It was how he felt in the moment; he believed everything was going to go smoothly with bringing y/n over, but his breaks were slammed down to the floor. Yet, he still ran into the barrier.

Charles purses his lips as Leo comes running back over to him, his toy falling out of his mouth. Charles sighed and bent down, bringing the small dog into his arms. He held the dog close, even as Leo tried to squirm out of his arms. “Mon amour”, Charles presses a kiss to Leo’s head with closed eyes. Leo slips out of his grasp and runs, and falls, over to his toy. Charles scoffed a laugh and raised his brows. Y/n and Leo running away from him; maybe it was a sign.

weeks later…

♫ walking on a dream, empire of the sun

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and others tagged: lewishamilton

youruser proper name, place name, backstory stuff 🌊☀️

view all comments

usereight me when i look at lewis hamilton ⤷ youruser me when lewis hamilton tries to explain something to me liked by lewishamilton

usernine sorry did i miss something??? why is lewyn becoming the new charyn ⤷ userten im lowkey kind of here for it!! charles pissed me off when he dropped y/n

lewishamilton this was the caption you were worrying over for 10 minutes? ⤷ youruser what king of instagram do you not like it ⤷ lewishamilton no, i like it. i just don't get it. ⤷ youruser you don't need to get it babygirl 🤍 ⤷ lewishamilton again with the babygirl...

userten charles where are you come get your mans

danielricciardo where was my invitation boys? ⤷ youruser sorry, only dilfs were allowed ⤷ danielricciardo and you think i'm not a dilf? (you're not one either) ⤷ youruser do you have a child? no. (i claimed roscoe for the weekend so yes i'm a step dilf)

usereleven i kind of ship lewyn ⤷ usertwelve alright someone detain me like y/n. GTFO OF HERE BROTHER THIS WAS NOT MADE FOR YOU YOU FREAK!! ⤷ userthirteen speak on it

userfourteen living for this lewis and y/n friendship actually

lando sexy as always brother ⤷ youruser don't call me brother when you call me sexy, it turns me off ⤷ lando annoying as always idiot

charles_leclerc looking good boys!! ❤️ ⤷ userfifteen is this doomed yaoi

usersixteen CHARLES GET UPPPPP 😭😭😭😭😭

CHARLES’S FINGERS TIGHTENED around his phone. Y/n’s Instagram post with Lewis on full display and at full brightness. He sat in his kitchen, his other hand holding his chin as his nose scrunched at the post and comments. Y/n’s comment about Lewis made his stomach turn. He wasn’t sure why, but it did. He felt like throwing his phone across the room and throwing up at the same time.

“What is this feeling?” Charles grumbled as he dropped his phone onto the table and hid his face, that started to heat up, in his empty hands. He groaned to himself and shook his head. Charles dropped his hands and picked his phone back up. He swiped between the two photos; one of Lewis and one of y/n. It took him a couple of minutes of looking at other photos that Lewis and y/n shared before he realized.

Jealousy.

It was like a wave crashing into Charles as he held his head in his hands once more. He tried to hide from the world as he came up with his idea, one that he didn’t think he’d ever had to deal with. “Merde,” he mumbled into his hands.

His cheeks were on fire as he thought about y/n; it was so sudden. Sure, in the past couple of years he could recognize that y/n was a good looking guy, but becoming jealous because he was close with Lewis and not him? That was a new one.

Without thinking, Charles pulls up his texts with y/n and sends him a text.

Two days later, Charles Leclerc finds himself sitting in front of the Nice airport in his Ferrari. He wore a red Ferrari hoodie and his favorite white pants and he looked down at his phone constantly to see if there was any update from y/n. Soon enough, he gets a text from y/n saying that he got his bag from the baggage claim and was coming out the front door.

Charles steps out of the car and leans against the passenger door as he looks for y/n. A smile found its way on his face when he noticed y/n from a while away. He raises his hand in greeting toward y/n, and to mostly get his attention. Y/n’s eyes lock onto Charles and he sighs.

After a long drive, y/n finds himself back in Charles’s living room and back on that godforsaken piano bench. They didn’t talk much during the drive, the silence being taken over by music on the radio. Charles leans against the top of the piano, a purse in his lips as the silence ate them alive.

“So,” they both start into the uncomfortable silence. Then c they both gestured for the other to go first with polite, but forced, smiles.

“What did you want to talk about?” Y/n asks first, his hands resting on the fallboard (key cover) of the piano. “There are some ideas I could think about.”

Charles hummed as his fingers tapped onto the top of the piano. “Your post with Lewis,” his voice was quiet and calculated as he tapped lightly on the piano.

“What about it?” Y/n asked, his brows furrowed.

Charles sighs, his confidence withering away as he felt as nervous as a high schooler asking out a date to the prom. “You just. You seem close with him,” he shrugs, “that’s all.”

Y/n’s brows furrow. It takes him a minute before he realizes, and he laughs. “Oh, you’re jealous, aren’t you?” He hums, weirdly feeling content at the thought of Charles being jealous of his friendship with Lewis. “Interesting,” he stands from the piano bench and leans the small of his back against the piano next to Charles. “You just had to say so,” y/n shrugs with a smug smile.

Charles looks over at y/n and scoffs. “You’re annoying, you know that?” He straightens his posture and his eyes glance down at y/n lips quickly. This time, though, y/n catches him and smiles.

“No, I don’t.”

After a beat, a piece of lightning striking between the two as they maintain eye contact, they both lunge forward, their lips connecting feverishly. They move, and y/n has Charles trapped against the side of the piano. They pull away from his other after a couple of seconds to catch their breath.

“You’re still not dating that girl, right?” Y/n asks through heavy breaths, his forehead resting on Charles’s.

“You’re really asking me that?” Charles laughs and connects their lips again. “I still hate you, by the way,” he mumbles through kisses.”

“Believe me, I do too.”

a/n: writing fell to mid at the end but fuck it we ball

tags: @milessunflowers @lokisen @kevinlolwife @op-81-lvr-reblogs @kazanskied @481rosier

[katebishopsbaefy]

prompt 16 with billie!! and maybe it’s the first time they’ve said i love you so it’s super romantic and fluffy🥹

prompt list

prompt masterlist

16) accidental i love you’s during sex

words: 1167

“Fuck… God, I love you…” she sighed out. She's not even realizing what she’s saying. What she’s admitting to. That it means everything to you.

After the most perfect date you could’ve asked for, you and Billie had been all over each other, so obviously you had to take things to the bedroom. You’ve fooled around a few other times, but this time felt… different. Especially because of what she said when you pushed her onto the bed.  “Wait… I-” she started as soon as you were hovering over her, making you pause. Did she not want this?

You sit up on your heels and look down at her for a moment. She doesn't look uncomfortable, or scared, or anything like that. She’s not that kind of person. But the hesitancy you see on her face makes your stomach drop. “What’s wrong?” you ask quietly. You’re aching to reach out and touch her, mostly out of instinct, to comfort her and make that look go away. To make her all giggly like she was a second ago. When she answers, though, you just get confused.

“I… I’ve never done this before,” she mumbles quietly, and looks away from your eyes. That confuses you even more. She’s usually so confident in herself, even when her words don’t reflect that. And you’ve definitely had sex before, so you have no idea what she’s getting at.

“...Never done what?” you ask quietly, and she picks up on the genuine confusion in your voice. The look in her eyes completely reveals what she’s thinking, though. She’s had sex, but she’s never been on the bottom. She’s never been touched. “...oh.”

“I- I’m sorry. Here, just switch with me, and-” she starts rambling immediately. You were having so much fun earlier, and she thinks she’s just ruined all of it.

When she starts to sit up to switch positions, you just push her back down on the bed as gently as you can. A quick shake of your head shuts her up. “Billie, it's okay. I swear,” you mumble softly to her, your tone dripping with sincerity. She hasn’t ruined a thing. If anything, you just feel a stronger urge to make sure she feels good right now. “Do… Do you still want this?”

After a quiet moment of letting her think, she nods silently, and you soften about as much as you have in your whole life. Your chest aches, but not in a bad way; she trusts you enough to let you touch her when no one else ever has. You just nod back, and press a soft kiss to her lips as you start to tug off her clothes, and she tugs off yours. You can almost hear the faint sound of a giggle coming from her. Maybe that’s just your imagination. But when you start kissing your way down her body, you’re sure you hear it.

You grip her hand as you part her legs, and look up at her one more time to make sure she's okay. The look on her face would never reveal that she’s never done this before. She looks so comfortable, so content, and it makes your heart soar that you get to do this with her. 

When she nods at you, you slowly lick up her core, just to give her a little taste. She grips her hand around yours a little tighter, and you can tell she’s doing just fine. You start to softly suck on her clit to let her get used to the feeling.

“Mmph- more,” she sighs out, and you grin against her core. Your hand squeezes hers to let her know she’s doing great, and you start flicking your tongue over her bud in the same way she’s done for you before. It's felt good for you, so you assume it’ll feel good for her. And based on her reaction, it definitely does; “Fuck… God, I love you…”

You almost don’t hear it. Maybe you were imagining it again, just like her giggles, but the way her eyes widen when she realizes just confirms that she did actually say what she said. And she meant it. It’s quite literally comical, the way she starts to go back and pretend she didn’t just admit she loves you. “Shit- I- I mean… uh… oh, that feels goooood…” she fake-moans, throwing her head back, but you can tell she’s just panicking from the way she peeks one eye open at you, like she’s checking to see if you believe her. You absolutely do not. It makes her stomach sink, but when you burst into a fit of giggles, she quirks a confused, but amused eyebrow at you.

“What feels good?” you ask amidst giggles, and she realizes she fucked herself over even more. You’re not even touching her anymore. In fact, you’ve completely sat back on your heels to look at her and her pretty blushing face. But when you see how genuinely nervous she looks, you soften, “...You love me?”

She’s about to shake her head and start denying it, but the look in your eyes melts her. You look so… hopeful, or happy, or anything that isn’t the disgust she’d been expecting. It makes her feel a little bit better, so she nods silently.

You really didn’t think you could get any happier tonight. You’d just had the perfect date, she trusted you to touch her for the first time, and now she was telling you she loved you? You could burst into tears. Happy tears.

But you don’t. Instead, you crawl your way up her body, and kiss her so softly that she melts under you. It’s nothing but gentle, loving, reassuring. Everything she needs to feel right now. She completely melts underneath your touch. After a moment, which could be a few seconds or a few hours, you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against hers. You want to make sure she’s looking at you. She already is. Your hands softly cup her cheeks, and you mumble so quietly, just as gently as your kiss, “I love you too.” 

And when you both immediately burst into a fit of giggles, you know you’re okay. She actually loves you, and you actually love her. You don’t think you could possibly love her any more than you do right now. 

After a few more sleepy kisses and soft giggles, you realize that you’d unintentionally edged her. It makes you giggle even more because she obviously doesn’t care, but you definitely do. You’re the first person she’s trusting to touch her, so you want to make sure she finishes. When you make your way back down her body to settle between her legs, she’s confused for a moment before a massive grin and more giggles erupt from her. She’s so beyond adorable. You can’t help but giggle back, and you mumble softly as you press a loving kiss to the inside of her thigh, “...Still wanna come?”

[inseobts]

Hello, it's me again.

Can I request a Zoro X Reader,using the picture below? It's the aftermath of Onigashima when they are back on the sunny.

Credit to the original artist @marimo_fr on Twitter :) <3

The Weight You Carry

zoro x reader

the scars of onigashima remain, especially for zoro, whose body bears the cost of every brutal fight. he always claims he can handle it, always acts like the weight of the world is his alone to bear, but not tonight, not anymore.

a/n: I love the idea and the art, hope you'll like it

(ฅ́ ˘ฅ̀)♡

words count: 1.7k

tags: blood, no major spoilers

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The Thousand Sunny drifts peacefully on the waves, a stark contrast to the devastation left behind in Wano. The battle is over. Kaido has fallen. Luffy’s dream has inched closer to reality. But for those who fought, those who pushed themselves to the brink of death, it doesn’t end so easily.

Zoro grips the edge of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain. His breath is ragged, uneven, his body wracked with pain that refuses to subside. The blood in his mouth is warm, metallic, pooling between his fingers as it drips into the water below. He watches it swirl, crimson twisting through the clear liquid, disappearing down the drain. His arms shake under his own weight, muscles frayed from exhaustion, from wounds that haven’t had time to heal.

He should be resting. Chopper told him as much, ordered him to stay in bed, to let his body recover. But lying down only makes it worse. The moment he closes his eyes, he feels the weight of every battle, every scar, every near-death experience pressing down on him. He remembers Kaido’s club smashing into his ribs, King’s flames scorching his skin, his swords feeling heavier than ever as he pushed himself past his limits.

How many times has he done this? How many times has he taken on more than he should, because he had to?

“Zoro! Tell me when you’re done with the bathroom!”

Your voice filters through the door, casual, unaware.

Zoro exhales harshly, dragging a hand down his face. He doesn’t want you to see him like this. You’ve seen him fight, seen him bleed, but this? This is different. This is weakness, the kind he refuses to show. He braces himself, tries to push off the sink and stand tall, but his legs betray him. His vision blurs at the edges.

The door creaks open before he can stop you.

Your eyes widen instantly, the casual impatience from earlier vanishing in an instant.

“Zoro—”

He turns away sharply, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, as if that could erase the evidence “Tch. Don’t barge in.” His voice is rough, strained.

“Don’t—?” You shut the door behind you, stepping closer despite his obvious attempt to keep you at a distance “Are you kidding me? You’re—Zoro, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing.”

Your hands are on him before he can protest, gripping his arm, trying to steady him. Up close, he looks even worse. Sweat clings to his skin, his breathing is shallow, and the way he leans against the sink tells you all you need to know, he’s barely standing.

You swallow hard “Chopper told you to rest.”

“I don’t need—” His sentence cuts off with a cough, a fresh splatter of red hitting the sink. He grimaces. Damn it.

You don’t hesitate. Your arms wrap around his waist, supporting him before he collapses “Come on,” you say firmly “You’re going back to bed.”

“I can walk.”

“You can barely stand.”

Zoro grits his teeth, frustration flashing in his eyes, but you don’t budge. He’s stubborn, but so are you.

“Zoro...” your voice softens, and that’s what gets to him. The fight drains from his shoulders, and he lets you guide him out of the bathroom. The walk back to his room is slow, each step heavy, but you don’t rush him. You don’t say anything when he leans into you more than he probably wants to admit.

When you finally reach his bed, he sits down with a heavy sigh. You kneel in front of him, grabbing a cloth from the bedside table “Let me clean you up.”

Zoro exhales but doesn’t argue this time. He watches as you work, dabbing away the blood with careful hands. Your touch is gentle, the complete opposite of the battlefield, of the violence he’s endured.

“I hate seeing you like this” you mutter.

He looks away “You knew what you signed up for.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”

Silence hangs between you. You continue cleaning the blood from his face, your touch steady, reassuring. Zoro doesn’t stop you, doesn’t pull away. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that for once, he’s allowing himself to accept the care he always shrugs off.

When you’re done, you sit back, watching him carefully “Promise me you’ll rest?”

He grunts, which isn’t exactly a promise, but it’s good enough for now.

You sigh, reaching for his hand, squeezing it “You don’t have to carry everything alone, you know.”

Zoro glances at you, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. He doesn’t answer, but the way his fingers tighten around yours tells you enough.

For now, it’s enough.

Zoro leans back against the pillows, his body protesting even the smallest movement. His hand still rests in yours, the calloused warmth of his fingers curling slightly around your own. He hasn’t let go, and you don’t pull away.

“You should sleep” you murmur, watching his heavy-lidded eyes fight against exhaustion.

“Tch” He scoffs, but it lacks his usual sharpness “I’ll be fine.”

You frown “You’re not fine, Zoro. You nearly died.”

He grunts, dismissive as ever “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

His words send a pang through your chest. The worst part is that you know he’s right. This isn’t the first time he’s thrown himself into the jaws of death without hesitation. It won’t be the last. That’s just who Zoro is. He pushes past limits, beyond the brink of what a human body should be capable of, all for the sake of his captain, his crew, his dream.

You’ve always admired his resolve, his unwavering strength. But nights like this, when the cost of that strength weighs so heavily on him, it’s hard to swallow.

You sigh, shifting so you’re sitting on the edge of the bed “You scared me, you know.”

Zoro cracks one eye open, glancing at you “Didn’t mean to.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you did.”

He exhales slowly, his fingers twitching against yours “I had to do it.”

“I know, I’m not saying that.”

And you do. You know he had no choice but to push himself beyond reason. You know that if he hadn’t, if he had hesitated for even a second, things might have ended differently. The battle against Kaido, against King, against all the overwhelming forces standing in their way, Zoro had taken them all on, knowing damn well the cost.

But just because you understand doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to see him like this.

Zoro shifts slightly, his face tilting toward you “I’m still here.” His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s saying it for you, not himself.

You squeeze his hand “Yeah. You are.”

Silence stretches between you again, but it’s softer this time, less heavy. His breathing evens out little by little, the exhaustion finally winning against his stubbornness. His grip on your hand loosens slightly, though he doesn’t let go completely.

You adjust the blanket over him, brushing a few damp strands of green hair from his forehead “Get some rest, Zoro.”

He grumbles something under his breath, likely another protest, but his body betrays him as his eyelids grow heavier.

You don’t move, not yet. You sit there, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, reassuring yourself that he’s here, that he’s safe.

Because for all of Zoro’s strength, for all his resilience and willpower, there are moments like these when you remember he’s still human. And even the strongest swordsman in the world needs someone to watch over him sometimes.

And as long as you’re here, you’ll make damn sure he never has to carry that weight alone.

The room is quiet except for the steady rhythm of Zoro’s breathing. He’s teetering on the edge of sleep, exhaustion finally pulling him under despite his stubbornness. His hand is still loosely curled around yours, warm and calloused, grounding.

You know you should probably let him rest. But something keeps you there, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, the faint furrow of his brows even in sleep, like he’s still fighting, even now. Like he doesn’t know how to let go.

Carefully, you reach out, brushing stray strands of green from his forehead. His skin is warm, feverish, but he doesn’t stir. Your fingers trail down, tracing the line of his jaw, the scar over his eye, marks of every battle, every fight he’s taken on without hesitation.

Your heart aches.

Zoro shifts slightly under your touch, his head tilting just enough that his lips part on a quiet exhale. You freeze, watching him, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, his hand tightens around yours.

Your gaze flickers to his mouth.

Slowly, cautiously, you lean in. You hover just above him, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. You hesitate, searching for any sign that he’s too out of it, too far gone into exhaustion.

But then—

“Hah… you just gonna sit there all night?”

His voice is hoarse, barely more than a murmur, but it sends a jolt through you. Your eyes snap up to his, startled. Even half-lidded with fatigue, there’s something sharp in his gaze, something knowing. A lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

Caught.

“I thought you were asleep” you whisper.

He exhales, the ghost of a chuckle. “Not when you’re staring at me like that.” His voice is low, rough, but there’s no teasing in it, just warmth.

You swallow, your cheeks burning “Idiot.”

His smirk fades slightly, his expression softening as he studies you “Come here.”

You hesitate only for a second before leaning down again, pressing your lips lightly to his.

Zoro exhales against your mouth, his grip on your hand tightening. It’s not rushed, not desperate, just a slow, lingering press of lips, filled with everything unspoken between you. He tilts his head, deepening it just slightly, enough to let you feel the warmth of him, the weight of him.

When you finally pull back, his eyes flicker open again, hazy but focused on you.

“Better?” you murmur.

His thumb brushes against your knuckles “Yeah.”

You smile softly, pressing one last kiss to his forehead before settling in beside him, your fingers still laced together.

And for the first time since Onigashima, Zoro lets himself rest.

[nightingale-prompts]

The reason Danny can't leave Amity had less to do with obsession and everything to do with his ghost half's appearance outside of town. Danny can travel just fine but his transformation appears differently without the ambient energy that Amity provides. The portal releases for much that ghost fall over themselves just to exist there. But ghosts don't manifest the same where there isn't enough ectoplasm.

Ordinarily, normal people in places not marked with death's essence would never see a ghost. They'd likely only feel the brief flash of cold or the feeling of being watched but never really know ghosts were real.

Gotham had more than average but not enough. And that was somehow worse.

***

Davey wondered off again.

This meant that he was probably hunting someone. Constantine had told them that it was just something revenants do.

Bruce pulled up the tracker and watched as Davey's location glitched out and rendered the screen useless. Which meant he was using his powers and found his target.

Quickly Bruce notified the anyone not busy to get to the location and subdue the target and save Davey.

Dick and Jason were the first to get there. Tim and Damian were still reluctant to get too close to the revenant boy.

The location was a dilapidated hospital. It had shut down a year ago after not being able to recover from a attack during Halloween a few years prior.

It didn't take long to find Davey in the children's wing. He was tracing his hand along the wall of one of the waiting rooms. It was a wall mural of children playing together and parents hold their hands.

It was hard to understand what Davey was thinking. He paused at the part of the painting that depicted a child and a teen standing over him and smiling. Davey touched the teen's face forlorn.

"Dan-ny..."

Then Davey was gone. Disappearing again from the light of Bruce's flashlight.

The sound of light footsteps where the only sign to follow.

They followed. Usually, Davey was more preoccupied with finding a target or watching his iPad. Now Davey seemed to...feel things. No one would accuse Davey of being complex when it came to thinking. He was simple-minded the way kids often are. He had likes and dislikes and was more worried about playtime and snacks than he was about the origin of his existence. All things they wanted to preserve.

"Danny..."

It came from lower in the hospital.

They followed deep into a research lab area. The hall was dark and dusty. Davey looked straight ahead at the dead end of the underground hallway.

"Danny!"

Footsteps. Louder than before came towards them. Lights began flickering on and off like a power surge had happened.

Davey hopped up and down in excitement as he reached his arms out towards it.

Dick lunged forward to pull Davey back to the group as Jason too stared into the dark.

Davey fazed out of Dick's hold.

A loud ear garbled mess of static, sounds, and words came out of comms. Like tuning a radio.

Whatever this was was getting closer and faster as its footsteps ran towards them. The temperature dropped as their breath turned visible. Then all the light bulbs exploded and they were in the dark again.

When they grabbed another flashlight and shined it on where Davey had been they saw... something. It was human, or what was left of one. It's body was charred, red and black flash marbled on a rotting corpse. It's eyes hollow and what skin was unmarked was dry and thin. It flickered in and out of existence as it stood over Davey.

Davey reached up towards it with grabby hands, no fear in his eyes.

A shallow gasping weeze was heard and the comm picked up an unknown garble of words in a language only Jason could just barely understand.

"Danny." Davey called out again.

"little other" Jason heard.

The flashlight flickered and the spirit now appeared younger and undamaged. A teen boy that looked like another version of Davey hugged him.

"Safe." Jason heard

"I missed you too," Davey said burying his face face in the spirits neck.

Davey giggled as Danny hugged him. Just like before Danny told him to go free. Davey didn't understand why he had to go but he listened very well and met lots of people and played lots. He went to where it felt right and now he had lots of friends here. But he wanted to see Danny and now he was here.

The teen ghost looked at the group now. His eyes were a bright green against blacks, greys, and a sickly paper white. His body still phasing in and out of existence. His skin had glowing burns that ripped open his skin appearing and disappearing like before and after pictures. He said something but it couldn't be heard from his mouth that moved soundless.

"Safe. Keep. Protect." The words came over the comms through the garbled mess of sounds.

The ghost hugged Davey one last time.

"Again? Can't we play?" Davey asked but the thing responded in the unknown tongue in what you'd guess was him saying no.

And then it was gone. The footsteps went far away.

Davey didn't protest when he was picked up and taken away.

He just watched the direction Danny left in over Bruce's shoulder.

They had never heard Davey cry before. He never expressed many emotions. He was also really quiet most of the time. But Davey did cry.

It was a small sound. Echoing and distant like coming from all directions in an empty house.

Then it was over and Davey was back to normal. Like this never happened.

They had barely any time to try to comfort him before he was back to playing videos on his iPad.

Lay Me to Rest- DCxDP Prompt

Warning: Blood and gore

There has been a series of murders across the country. Each death was varied and self-inflicted. At first, they all seemed like suicide but each had a strange range of symptoms before death.

Sudden paranoia, incoherent mumbling, screaming or yelling, going in and out of their homes sporadically, random fixations, and finally self-harm.

The victims were teachers, parents, businessmen, truckers, and even a crime novelist. All unrelated and in different states.

Each victim didn't seem to have a connection until an investigation discovered that each one had been an active serial killer. The body counts ranged from as little as 5 to as much as 23. The killer was named the Serial Serial Killer which wasn't creative but it was catchy. Some called them the Angel of Vengeance but most thought it was cringy and overdramatic. Many people didn't want them to be caught but others hotly debated letting a killer dispense justice when their crusade could easily turn into them killing people for innocuous things.

The police were still questioning whether this killer even existed. One thing was clear, there was a trail and it led straight to Gotham. A goldmine for them. Naturally, Batman had gotten a hold on the case and began an investigation.

The biggest question was how the killer found their victims and how they knew that they were killers.

The answer was obvious. They didn't need to figure it out. They just needed to wait. Why just in the effort to investigate when a serial killer tries to convince you to leave with them? So bars are the obvious place. But that's shaky at best since there is a period of torment that takes place that allows the victims to return home. The killer doesn't care if the victims could call the police, perhaps because they know their victim won't.

Bruce started to build a profile. He saw a pattern here. Each of the victims had a preference for their victims as well. They targeted young people, mainly boys. Odds are the Serial Serial Killer matched that description or age range. So bars weren't the hunting ground. So parks were more likely to go unnoticed and boys tended to hang out there longer after dark.

The killer was more than likely a victim himself so he may have a few scars but probably not noticeable enough that his would-be assailants would be turned off. There is no ignoring the predatory nature of the victims. Each killed children for gratification in some form. It's not that the boy is attractive but he probably has traits that the victims found attractive in children. So babyfaced, short, native, and polite.

There was much else Bruce could get. There was nothing concrete and he still didn't understand the method that was used. So far this was guesswork.

It wasn't until a few weeks later while he tracking another killer that he found his answer.

Dr.Kinder a Biologist by day and a killer who experiments on his victims at night had picked up a promising new lab rat a week ago. He had intended to slowly dissect the boy. He had gotten so used to the screams he stopped using anesthetics besides he wanted to see how the fear response caused the organs to shift.

To his surprise the boy didn't fight, in fact he seemed to jump to the table and say he didn't need restraints. Disturbing. But he was restrained anyways.

As the doctor cut him open the boy didn't react, only humming to himself as he watched the doctor.

"What are you hoping to find?" He asked. "I'm getting bored and this bearly hurts."

The boy annoyingly never stopped talking and never missed a chance to ruin the moment. There were never any screams or cries but incessant talking.

Dr.Kinder found the boy disturbing so he simply took an axe and chopped the boy into pieces. Not once did he make a sound. The doctor thought it was over but the next day the boy was back. He sat on the autopsy table kicking his feet in nothing but his bare skin.

"What the hell are you?" The doctor gasped in horror.

"I'm bored. Play with me again." The boy purred.

Bile crawled up his throat as the doctor restained this...thing again.

This time the boy spoke differently.

"You cut me up last time. Did you do that to the last boy. After you...you know." A sick grin spread across his cheeks.

The doctor cut open his neck this time and let him bleed out.

Everyday he came back and every day the doctor killed him until the time between his death got shorter and shorter. The days began to blur and he had no idea how long he had been doing this. But that thing kept talkimg to him.

Dr.Kinder stared down at his desk at the papers trying to think of anything but-

"I wonder what people would think about what you've done. You're a disgusting and depraved man doctor. Look at what you've done to me." The sing-song voice of that demon called out.

He could feel those blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck.

He flinch as he pushed the thing away.

"Oh, are you going to beat me or stab me this time? Ooo, or are you going to put me through the woodchipper again?" The demon asked as the doctor wrapped his hands around his throat.

He just kept squeezing until the boy went limp. It never ends. The blood never goes away. It covered every surface of the room. Dripping, conjugating, and spreading into every corner. Whenever he turned his head he could see body parts spread across the room in the pools of blood he could they the faces of the others that he had killed. Each face wretched in agony.

"You hold on better than the others. I've been eaten, torched, and disemboweled before but after coming back a few times they usually end it after a few words. But every time they don't feel guilt. They just don't want to face consequences." The boy said. "Do you even remember my name? The one I told you when you picked me up on the side of the road or was I just another body to use and discard? I used the name of your first victim. I hoped you'd notice."

The doctor knew he couldn't kill the boy but he could end himself. He had tried it once but just like the kid he came back without a scratch.

"Not yet. This is your life now. Come on, let's taste death together. Again and again and again and again and-" he repeated over and over.

This was hell. This was his hell.

But it came to an end eventually. Dr.Kinder put an end to himself in a gruesome display.

Batman had only caught the tail end as he faced a young boy standing an a pool of blood.

****

"Yeah, that thing is like a worse version of a revenant. Doesn't really have a name yet to describe it. It's undead for sure. You kill it and it just comes back." Constantine said "Why did you bring it here?"

After a long bath and some new clothes, the kid looked normal as played on a phone given to him.

"Look, I didn't know what else to do." Bruce explained.

"You leave it alone!" Constantine said exasperated "Look they are harmless to anything they don't bear a grudge towards. Think of it as a force of nature." Constantine said.

"I just want to know how to stop him." Bruce said.

"Well you can't kill it but you can't bring him back entirely. You can just soothe it 'till it stops targeting its victims. It must have died pretty gruesomely to go to these lengths. You need to find where it died and lay it to rest. Properly." Constantine sighed knowing that appeasing this soul would be more than just difficult.

"Danny, come on. Let's go." Bruced said putting a hand on the boy's head as Danny stood up to leave.

"Okay. Bye!" Danny waved to Constantine.