#and then while i was there i was thinking and my hairs at a length i hate rn

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

risky

Summary: The undercover mission with Javier does not go as planned. Not that you're complaining.

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 588

Raiting: E

Warnings: smut (semi public sex, unprotected sex) undercover Javi with a twist, making out

A/N: This interaction has been on my mind all day so please, enjoy this smol baby drabble I might be ovulating

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Full Masterlist // Javier Peña Masterlist

„You always take your undercover work this serious, Agent Peña?“ You whispered against his ear, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth to stop the moan that you desperately wanted to hear him, deciding to moan quietly right against his ear. 

One of his arms was wrapped securely behind your back, keeping you close against his chest while his other hand was on the back of your neck, keeping your head close towards his. 

For anyone who would find you here in this dark corner of the roof terrace of this club It would look like you were making out. 

Which you were. 

More or less. 

No one would know that you had been sitting on his cock for the last fifteen minutes.

But you were and you weren’t planing on getting up any time soon. 

Or at least before he had fucked you full of his cum. 

This night had started so innocently. This time the mission was nothing more than having a drink at a bar where the criminals Javier and you had been after for almost a year were supposed to have a meeting at. When they hadn’t shown up after two hours Javier had gotten the call that they had been sighted in another town and Javi and you? Well you had decided that since you were out already, you could have a little fun. 

Fun apparently meant getting handsy with you while dancing to some salsa tunes. 

It wasn’t long before he led you outside, the hot summer day turning the night almost tropical, leaving you and him to be only a few of the people on the roof. 

Nobody spared you a glance when he led you in the darkest corner, having you sit on his lap, his hands both on your ass under the dress you had chosen to wear for the night. 

Nobody cared as he pulled at the front of you dress so he could suck one of you nipples into his mouth. 

Nobody cared when he pulled your panties to the side, two fingers slipping inside of you while you unbuckled his belt and helped him open his pants to release his cock. 

And nobody fucking cared when he had you slowly sink down on his cock out here in the open while the music from the club beneath you shook the floor and at least the four people you had seen when you got here, were somewhere on this roof with you.

„Never know who could be watching. Gotta really sell our story,“ he mumbled against your ear and you grinned, hands in his hair, tilting your head back so you could look at him. 

„And what is our story, Agent Peña?“ You asked before you found his lips in a deep kiss, rolling your hips slowly, the length of his cock making you hum against his lips. 

„That we’re newlyweds who can’t keep their hands off each other of course,“ he mumbled against your lips thrusting up into you slowly.

„Mmmmmhhhh…. Don’t think three years of marriage count as newlyweds anymore, Javier,“ you grinned down at him and you saw his jaw flex as you clenched your walls around his cock. 

„We’re still horny like newlyweds, so who the fuck cares?“ He winked. 

„And I wouldn’t risk getting caught fucking in public with anyone other than my wife,“ he kissed you again and you smiled. 

„I sure hope you wouldn’t risk getting caught with your dick in anyone else than your wife, baby. Public or not.“

[batboysanonymous]

A Taste of Silence (Pt. II)

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Rhys's drunken words cut deeper than any blade, leaving Y/n questioning everything she thought she knew about their bond. As heartbreak and betrayal collide, she faces a choice that could shatter the fragile threads holding their world together.

Pt. I

Word Count: 1.5k

──────────────────────────────

Rhysand was drowning.

He had endured centuries of torment in Amarantha’s Court, faced death and destruction in ways that would have broken lesser males—but this? This was agony unlike anything he had ever known.

Because this wasn’t just losing her. This was being the cause of her pain.

The bond was still there, a heavy, throbbing weight tethered to his soul. It twisted and pulled at him, refusing to let him forget the raw betrayal in her eyes when she left. He couldn’t block it out. Couldn’t shut down the waves of anger and hurt radiating from her, nor the faint echo of her presence that haunted his every step.

He didn’t deserve to forget.

He followed her from a distance, staying just out of sight, knowing he had no right to approach her. She had retreated to a small, snow-laden village on the outskirts of his territory, a place so quiet and unassuming it seemed designed to swallow grief whole. Rhys respected her boundaries—at least, as much as he could while still ensuring she was safe.

The villagers had no idea their little haven was now fiercely guarded by shadows. Every night, he patrolled the perimeter, silent as death, ensuring no threat could come close. When a pack of feral beasts wandered too near, Rhys killed them before they could even scent the village. He cleaned up the blood and left no trace, unwilling to let her see the lengths he was going to for her protection.

She might hate him, but she was still his mate. And he would protect her, even if it tore him apart.

But even the small things he could do weren’t enough. Not when every second without her was a reminder of the chasm he’d created between them. The cold, empty nights stretched endlessly, the silence gnawing at his mind until he thought he might go mad.

──────────────────────────────

The third week after her departure, he broke.

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t intrude, and wouldn't push her until she was ready. But the bond burned unbearably that day, tugging at him with a force that felt like claws raking through his chest. He flew to her cabin before he could stop himself, landing with a muffled thud on the snow-packed ground.

She was outside, stacking firewood with her back to him. She froze when his boots crunched against the snow.

“Don’t,” she said without turning, her voice cold enough to make him falter.

“Please,” Rhys choked out, his voice hoarse.

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t think—he just dropped to his knees. The snow soaked through his leathers, numbing his skin, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

“Please,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “Please, just listen to me. I—” His throat closed up, the words catching on the lump that had lodged itself there since the moment she left. He dragged a trembling hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his desperation. “I know I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I—Cauldron, I can’t live like this. I can’t live without you.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move.

“You are everything to me,” he said, his voice raw. “Everything. And I hate myself for what I did, for the way I made you feel. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right, if you’ll let me. But if you can’t…” He swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes. “If you can’t, I’ll still do it. I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy, even if it’s from afar. I don’t care what it costs me, as long as you’re okay.”

“How can I trust that the next time you’re drunk or angry, you won’t say something that cuts me to the bone?”

Her words hit like a dagger, sharp and precise. He bowed his head, his voice trembling as he replied, “I don’t deserve your trust, not after what I said. But I swear to you, I will never drink if it means risking your pain. I’ll stop entirely if you ask me to. Nothing—nothing—is worth losing you again.”

Her arms crossed, her shields firmly in place, though he caught the faintest waver in her expression. “And what happens the next time we fight, Rhys? What if you get angry? Will you throw my weaknesses in my face again?”

His head snapped up, anguish written across his features. “Never. I would never—” His voice broke. “You are not my weakness. You are my strength. And if I ever forget that, I want you to walk away and never look back. But I swear to you, Feyre, I will spend every day of my life proving to you that I’ve learned from this. That I will never, ever make you feel like that again.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. He could feel her battling herself, the bond between them a swirling tempest of doubt and yearning.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he whispered, his knees sinking deeper into the snow. “I’ll spend the rest of my life earning your trust if I have to. Just tell me how to begin.”

The silence stretched taut between them, and Rhys didn’t dare move. Finally, she spoke, her voice soft but edged with steel. “Prove it.”

Her shields weren’t just up—they were fortified. But he didn’t need to feel the bond to see the war raging within her.

──────────────────────────────

The days that followed were a slow, painful process. Rhys didn’t push. He stayed near enough to be there if she needed him but far enough to give her space. He continued his quiet watch over the village, eliminating threats before she ever knew they existed. He left her gifts—small things he hoped might bring her comfort. A new brush when he saw her old one had broken. A scarf enchanted to keep her warm even in the bitterest winds. And a note with every gift: I’m still here. I always will be.

She started letting him stay for longer each time he visited. They didn’t talk much at first—just sat in heavy, charged silence. But gradually, the walls began to crack. She started asking him questions, small and tentative, and he answered with an honesty that left him vulnerable and bare.

The night she finally forgave him, it was snowing.

They were sitting by the fire, the soft glow casting flickering shadows across the room. Rhys’s voice was low and steady as he recounted the years he’d spent under the mountain. The rawness of the memories was evident in the way his hands clenched and unclenched, but he forced himself to speak, each word a step toward atonement.

Y/N sat across from him, silent, her gaze fixed on the flames. Her fingers twisted the hem of her sweater, the movement restless and uncertain.

“You didn’t just hurt me,” she said at last, her voice trembling. “You betrayed me, Rhys. You made me feel small, like I didn’t matter.”

The words tore through him, but he didn’t flinch. He nodded, his throat tightening. “I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel that way again.”

She looked at him then, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “How can I trust you not to run your mouth again? To not let some drink or situation make you careless with me?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, shame crashing over him. “You can’t—not yet. But I’ll prove to you that you can. I’ll prove it every single day, Y/N.” His voice cracked, his chest heaving as he lowered himself to his knees before her.

“Please,” he begged, his hands trembling as he clasped hers. “Please, give me a chance to earn back your trust. I’ll never take another sip of wine if that’s what it takes. I’ll never let myself forget the weight of what I have to lose. You are everything to me.”

Her lip trembled as she stared at him, the rawness in his expression and the desperation in his voice cutting through her defenses. “I’m terrified, Rhys. Of trusting you again. Of getting hurt again.”

His thumbs brushed over her knuckles as he held her hands tightly, his head bowing. “I know. And if I ever break your trust again, I’ll deserve every ounce of that fear. I’ll deserve to lose you. But I won’t. I swear to you, Y/N, I won’t.”

The bond between them hummed faintly, like a whisper of what it once was, and it pulled at her even as she hesitated. She reached out, cupping his face with trembling fingers.

“You have one chance, Rhys,” she whispered, her voice heavy with both hope and caution. “One.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, pressing her palm to his lips. “I won’t waste it. I swear to you, I’ll never waste it.”

When she finally leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, his arms wrapped around her protectively, as if he could shield her from every hurt in the world—including himself. The bond sang louder, fuller, and in that moment, they began to mend what had been broken, piece by fragile piece.

[fuctacles]

thank you guys for pitching in for my bday goal on ko-fi, it means a lot to me <3

<< eleven | 😺 | thirteen >>

Eddie walks up the stairs faster than he should, and has to even out his breathing just like the first time. He barely knocks on the door before it opens, but he did say he'll be up shortly. 

"Come in." Steph moves to the side to let him inside. Her hair is down now, and she's changed her jeans to a pair of sweatpants, looking soft and domestic. Having no idea what it does to Eddie's heart. 

He rolls on the balls of his feet awkwardly, and spots Dart, blinking at him from his perch on the back of the couch. Steph picks up a small white bottle from the coffee table, and he focuses attention back on her. 

"This is a leave-in, so after washing your hair and drying it with a towel, you rub a bit in your palms," she explains. "And like, rub it into your hair?" She frowns, nose scrunching adorably. "Like this." Steph hands him the bottle before showing the motion on her own hair. "And focus on the ends, maybe up to here." Gently pulling on a strand of Eddie's hair, she points to about half of its length. "Then you can let it air dry. It should help with the dry ends," she finishes off, absentmindedly running her hand through his curls. 

He hopes it's a him thing, and not just a hair thing. 

"Questions?" she asks, her eyebrows raising. Unfortunately, she seems to register her movements too, and drops her hand to curl it around her waist. Fortunately, it accentuates her breasts.

Eddie shakes his head. 

"But, Wayne ordered me to keep you company before you go mad from talking to cats." He raises his hands when her eyes squint. "His words, not mine. I think he's just tired of me and wants me to bother someone else for a change. Which," oh no, he's rambling, but it's too late to stop it. "I'm not imposing myself on you, I can go grab some cigarettes from the convenience store. You had a long day at work, you must be tired. Of me, too."

His hand squeezes tighter around the bottle of conditioner. Steph's eyebrows are arched and unimpressed.

"Which one of those was a question?"

Right. Eddie licks his lips, and her eyes follow.

"May I keep you company on this fine evening?" he asks. 

"You may," she accepts with a courteous nod and a small smile. Unfolding her arms, she turns to the kitchen, the last bits of tension seeping out. "Beer? Tea?"

"In your presence, milady, simple rain water will suffice." He presses his lips together. It's either rambling or nerdiness, when he's nervous. Usually both. 

Steph only shrugs, one hand on the fridge handle as she looks at him expectantly. 

"I just ran out, you have to pick something else."

"Beer, please." He smiles, relieved she's playing along. 

She uncaps two beers for them and takes a look through her cupboards. 

"I'd offer you a snack, but... all I have is popcorn. Do you want popcorn?" She looks over her shoulder at him. 

"Salt or butter?"

"I have both."

"Salt, then. Don't like my hands greasy."

He doesn't like his hands greasy in the presence of a fine lady, that is. 

While they watch the bag spin in the microwave, Eddie lets his mouth spit out what's been on his mind for the past couple of hours.

"Wayne's cast is going off this Thursday."

"It's been long enough," she nods thoughtfully. "Will he be able to walk?"

"With a crutch, yeah, but he won't be needing me anymore." He picks at the label on his beer. "So I'll be going back to Indy next week. Or this weekend."

"Ah, that's a pity. We just met." She pouts. 

The microwave dings, Steph pops it open and the smell of popcorn fills the kitchen. Eddie isn't sure if her words were genuine or just a pleasantry, but she doesn't seem like pleasantries kind of person.

They move to the living room, at least one pair of cat eyes watching them curiously. Dart is still in his spot on the couch and doesn't move a muscle when they sit down. 

"When are you visiting next?" she asks, popping a kernel into her mouth. "Thanksgiving?" 

"Probably," he says, even though it wasn't his plan. He was going to wait Thanksgiving out and stay a day or two longer for the Christmas break. But if Steph was in any way interested in him, it would be worth the gas money and time spent behind the wheel. "Do you have any plans?"

Steph tucks her legs up on the couch, gets comfortable. The bowl of popcorn rests between them and Eddie can't wait for it to be gone. 

"I'd usually go with Robin to see her parents, but I'm trying to wrap up on the salon thing. I want to tell Joyce before the year ends, maybe look at places in Indiana starting in January."

Eddie raises his eyebrows. 

"I thought it was a more distant thing."

"Me too," she sighs. "But I'm probably just scared of change, and making it sound like more work than it is."

"Uh, I think opening a salon in a new city is a lot of work," Eddie points out, leaning forward to face her better. "And moving? It's a lot. But hey," he adds quickly, noticing that she has shrunk on herself. "I'll help however I can. Give you a couch to sleep on while you're looking for the perfect place."

She snorts.

"Thanks, I might take you up on that."

It would be weird, having Steph in his small bachelor apartment that he shares with a friend. But the idea sounds too alluring not to let it run his imagination for a second. Maybe she won't have anything to sleep in and Eddie would have to lend her a t-shirt. Something unmistakably Eddie-ish, like a brand telling everyone else to back off. 

"I could show you around, too. I know the best pizza and Chinese places and which cafe's to avoid," he offers.

She cocks her head, watching him with a smile, the small but visible lines in the corners of her eyes crinkling. 

"Planning a date already?"

Eddie's eyes widen. He kind of was.

But Steph doesn't seem repulsed, she's smiling at him with amusement, completely relaxed on her couch, beer in hand. So he shoots his shot. 

"I hope I'll get a few before then," he admits, looking her in the eyes, straight into her soul.

She hums, the smile still present but somehow turning sour. 

"When? You're leaving in a few days."

"That's a few days worth of dates," he counters. 

"You're gonna sweep me off my feet and leave? That's not nice," she points out.

"I—" Eddie frowns. "Yeah, I know," he deflates. Steph's right, he already feels insane and it would get only worse if he got a proper taste. 

She twists in her seat, feet landing on the carpet. He turns with a sigh, ready to be kicked out. He can always try next time, right?

tags: @wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94

@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman

@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson

@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets

@bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore @icecat

[sugarcubeindulgent]

a lovely night | bill dickey x f!reader

synopsis. it's prom night. you've been stood up and of all your friends to be sent to check-up on you, they send bill. yeah, maybe you both hate each other, but it is a lovely night.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ contents. established relationship. fluff. misogynistic language. comfort. homophobic language. swearing.

You’re unsure if anything has ever been more humiliating. Pissing your pants on an elementary field trip to the zoo? Nope. Splitting down the ass of your pants on the first day of freshman year by eating shit in the cafeteria? Not even close. Getting caught watching porn when Pete thought it’d be funny to send a baiting link? No. No, you’ve never felt more humiliated than now. Sitting on the curb outside of the school’s entrance with tears refusing to stop rolling down your flushed and warm cheeks.

The night air is cool and breezy against your skin exposed in the dress your mom had spent three months making all for your date to have been part of some long, cruel prank. Your sash is discarded beside you with your earrings and necklace. Sniffling and wiping at your cheeks, you wonder if you should call your dad or walk home.

Hearing footsteps behind you, you press yourself harder into the left side of the railing while wiping your cheeks and underneath your smudged lash line. “Oh God you’re crying…”,groans a voice that’s the very last you want to hear. Still, it’s a reflex to turn and glare hotly at Bill who looks stupid with his chestnut hair slicked back and his suit a bit too big for his frame. He looks at you through his glasses, his hands tuck into his slacks and he seems to shift in discomfort once he looks at your face. He looks away.

“Fuck, I don’t wanna hear any of it, Bill. Save the mocking and jokes for tomorrow.”,you sigh in exasperation while looking away from him.

Unfortunately, his footsteps continue to grow closer. “I don’t wanna be out here either but I pulled the short straw to deal with your girly feelings.”,scoffs Bill. You grunt in frustration and drag a hand down your face with a sharp exhale. He’s such an asshole, you can’t help thinking as he sits down a hand’s length away from you.

You shake your head, sniffling and looking straight ahead with more annoyance and anger in you than hurt and humiliation now. A cool breeze dances along Bill and then reaches you, your eyebrows twitch noticing the cologne you noticed earlier on him on the car ride over. It’s cheap but it feels fitting for him, a bit pleasant after you get used to it. Wetting your lips you turn to Bill when he expels a deep and annoyed sigh.

“I mean we tried to warn you.”

Quickly, you shake your head. “My fucking God…”,you groan while dropping your face into your hands while your elbows press into your thighs.

“What?”,Bill complains incredulously. He shakes his head and you drop your hands, glaring at him with a hot scowl while his eyes finally meet you again. “We tried to tell you that football ape was just looking for an easy girl to fuck with and you didn’t believe us. You let your stupid woman's brain convince you he was a nice guy.” His expression is twisted in annoyance and irritation, looking at you as if you’re stupid but he also seems to be looking at you in a way you’re not familiar with from his eyes.

Regardless, your anger flares and you toss up your hands. “Well I’m sorry I wanted to believe for once that I could have one could high school experience that didn’t involve you guys.”,you snap at him, your voice dripping in sarcasm. Then you scoff and shake your head while wiping at your cheeks. Humiliation and hurt burns suddenly, it feels all the worse knowing the guys will probably never let you live this down. “Do you really have to be a fucking–a f-fucking asshole right now? Can you not save it?” You nearly fling yourself down the rest of the stairs when your voice cracks and your eyes start to sting again. Quickly, you turn away and wave him away. “Just fucking go away.”

For a long moment, Bill is shockingly silent beside you. He doesn’t say a word and you can only hear the wind rustling the trees around and whistling through the warm, night air. You’re hoping he’s just going to leave, that for once in his damn life he won’t be a miserable sack of shit that seems to love arguing with you and fighting with you. And for a hopeful moment, you think he will give you some mercy. But then he clears his throat and snorts, your fists ball up on your lap.

“We all agreed he’s probably just a faggot anyway…”,he suddenly murmurs.

You blink softly and turn to look at him. Bill’s looking down at his nails, they’re practically chewed down to the skin – his knuckles scarred and a bit bruised from the many fits of rage he experiences. “What?”,you ask, clearing your throat after realizing you sound way too pathetic. His eyebrows furrow and he shrugs with a shake of his head.

“I mean – y’know.” You look along his acne-scarred face and he shrugs again while looking up at the starry and clear night, the full moon bathes everything in a white glow. “You actually got all dressed up. You look like an actual girl for once and–and you smell nice and…I don’t know maybe he’s just some fag for standing you up.” Bill’s face is red. You’re unable to help but notice the way his cheeks are a hot red, so red that it’s spread to the tips of his ears. “So…stop being such a girl and crying about someone probably getting fucked by his teammates.”

You’re unsure what to say for a few moments. He’s comforting you. Complimenting you. You can only ever remember him being nice to you, you being nice to him during your tournaments or games whenever you’d carry the team. Only when it benefitted him. But he’s being nice to you, complimenting and comforting you right now. In his own way, but it still has you a bit surprised and taken off guard. Swallowing hard, you suddenly notice something red staining his button-up and you shift the topic just a bit.

“Why is your shirt stained?”,you ask a bit softer than you mean to.

Bill looks from you and down to his shirt, he rolls his eyes. “Lardo shoved me into Stacey Kupsbrick. That bimbo bitch threw her drink at me.”

A laugh leaves your lips and you cover your smile. Bill glares at you and you shake your head while you put up your other hand in defense. “Hey, at least you got to feel her up at prom like you always talked about.”,you remark, dropping your hands to hold your knees while you smile at Bill in amusement. His glare lightens, rolling his eyes again with a smile and nodding.

“Pete said that too.”,he laughs a bit.

Your eyes flicker away from him and your thumbs gently stroke the satin fabric of your prom dress, sniffling, you wet your lips that taste like watermelon. Something odd tingles along your chest and stirs in your stomach as a silence that isn’t awkward or tense with anger settles between you and Bill. You’re unsure if you should say something but you don’t even know what you would say. It doesn’t even feel like Bill’s next to you. Maybe his body was snatched by some alien who knows how to not be an asshole.

“You do look nice tonight. Pretty but not in a slut way.” Your eyes snap to Bill, he’s looking down and wiping his hands on his slacks. “Even if you’re an ugly crier.” He’s still red in the cheeks and tips of his ears.

You want to be mean, to ask him if he’s simply building up to be an asshole or to insult him. But you’re exhausted from crying and you still feel humiliated and embarrassed. Enough that your body disgustingly warms beneath Bill’s backhanded compliment. You clean under your lower lash line and then at the corners of your eyes. Then you nod and you look away, up at the lovely night.

“You smell nice.”,you compliment him, looking down as your hands feel oddly sweaty. You feel Bill’s eyes peek at you from the corner of his eyes and you shrug loosely. “Not like your dandruff shampoo and sweat.”

Bill clears his throat. “Yeah uhm…my mom got me a cologne for tonight.”,he replies. The air feels awkward now. Not in a bad way, it just feels foreign to be nice to each other. You wonder if you should just tell him to leave now. But he speaks first. “Are you gonna come back inside?” Your eyes flicker to him, lashes still wet with tears and eyes still glassy. Bill meets your eyes and he shrugs. “I mean you did make us come to this woman’s bullshit. If you leave you’ll owe us the ticket prices.”

A frown spreads on your lips. “That’s not fair! Jerry wanted to come.”

“Yeah and he’s practically a woman so?”,scoffs Bill. Then he stands and dusts himself off.

Glaring up at him, the idea of going back inside is nauseating. But oddly enough…you do feel better. Warmer and less humiliated. You look up at Bill whose hands slip into the pockets of his slacks. Contemplating for a moment, you sigh in frustration and grab your jewelry and sash. “You’re such a dick.”,you mutter. He mocks you in a girlish voice while you shove your sash into his hands and you first put your earrings on. Placing the chain around your neck, your eyebrows furrow as you try to do the clasp.

“Can you hurry up?”,complains Bill impatiently.

“I’m trying, asshole. The clasp is tiny.”,you snap.

A frustrated sigh leaves his lips and he tosses your sash over his shoulder before he walks over. “Turn around. God what kind of girl can’t put a fucking necklace on?”,he harshly spits, smacking away your hands.

Your irritation spreads to your features. “You barely have any nails left how are–fuck!” You hiss in annoyance when he smacks you upside the head. “God…asshole…”,you mumble.

Bill’s fingers work at the clasp and you’re unable to stop feeling weirder. You can feel his fingers brushing and touching the nape of your neck, you blink and look down at the ground while keeping your hairstyle away.

Finally, he pulls away and you release a breath you were holding. Turning around, you notice he’s shifting uncomfortably before tugging your sash and tossing it at you. “Hurry up or I’ll start making jokes about you being stood up.”,he says quickly, turning away and walking towards the school’s entrance with a stiff frame and scowl painted red.

You swallow a bit of that weird feeling, pulling on your sash and wiping your cheeks and cleaning your eyes before you follow where Bill disappears through the doors.

What a weird night.

[dilfologies]

would u ever do stepbro!satoru x reader x his bestfriend!suguru ?? :3

would i ever… oh nonny, i think about it daily. clearly. as you can tell by this drabble that is entirely too long (just like their co—)

“look at her, geto. she wants you to touch her so bad.”

suguru stood in front of where you sat at the end of the bed. you were sitting so pretty on your knees, so patiently, just itching for him to touch you. satoru kneeled behind you, reaching his hands down to knead your breasts. the eye contact you both held with suguru made him feel like his skin was on fire.

satoru swiveled your head to the side and captured your lips in his, kissing you like a man starved, all in front of suguru. the kiss was sloppy and wet, too desperate to be coordinated. when you pulled away, you looked back up to see suguru looking dazed.

suguru exhaled softly, “you didn’t tell me you had such a slutty little sister, satoru.” his large hand covered one of the tits that satoru abandoned, palming it and toying with the nipple. his hand was cold despite the warmth of satoru’s bedroom, making you shudder.

“well, he wanted to have me all to himself,” you breathed, “but i was the one who put this idea in his head.”

suguru chuckled. “that right? you wanted both of us to fuck you? you want us to destroy that little pussy, that it?”

your pussy was dripping. his words were spurring you on, making you dizzy. you weren’t the only one excited, though. satoru’s cock was hard and heavy on your lower back and you could feel his precum leaking from his tip onto your skin.

within a moment, you were shuffled backwards enough to where you were on all fours. satoru at your back, suguru at your front. satoru wasted no time in stuffing your cunt full with his thick, leaking cock. his fat tip prodded at the spongy spot that he was all too familiar with.

while you were focused on satoru’s antics, suguru had shoved his pants down to his ankles, freeing his cock. you all but drooled at the sight. all the slight veins and the upward curve he had, his reddish-pinkish tip enlarged and gleaming, and the small trimmed up bush at his base which you could only assume led up to a happy trail. god, if you knew satoru’s best friend had a cock this pretty, you would’ve suggested this long ago.

“well?” suguru huffed, “is the whore gonna do ‘er job like she’s s’possed to?”

and gosh, did you try, wrapping your pretty, salivated mouth around his tip, licking and sucking and cleaning off all his salty precum. you tried to slowly make your way down, considering just how large he was, just every time satoru thrusted into you, you were knocked further down suguru’s length.

he groaned when you gagged on him, and lifted you up by a fistful of your hair to give you some air. saliva pooled out of your mouth and down his cock.

satoru rolled his eyes from behind you, “fuck, suguru— just use her throat. trust me, she doesn’t mind,” he gave you a sharp slap on your ass that was sure to leave a handprint before trailing his hand to your spine, pressing down so you were slightly more arched. and then he leaned down to your ear, “right, baby? don’t cha want sugu to fuck your slutty little throat? hm?”

you yelped as he delivered a particularly hard thrust. “yes! haaah— puh-lease, sugu, use m-my throat!”

suguru didn’t have to be told twice. as soon as satoru re-straightened his back, he plunged his cock all the way down your throat, as far as it would go. you took him all the way down to the hilt, nose stuffed in his hair that smelled oddly of floral scents…

both boys fucked you as if you were their toy, their little plaything. satoru was relentless, his thrusts sloppy and desperate and rough, thick cock stretching you thin. and suguru would have himself so far down your throat for such extended periods at a time to the point where your vision would start blackening at the sides. he’d always seemed to know exactly when to pull back and allow you some air.

you could stay like this forever, sandwiched between the two men who were always so protective of you, who always looked after you, who fucked you as if you were going to disappear any second now.

suguru was the first to finish, warm, thick load filling up your mouth completely. his eyes bore into you the entire time.

“swallow.”

an order that you simply couldn’t disobey. you stuck your tongue out flat so he could see all his spend was gone. suguru groaned and captured you in a heated kiss. remnants of the taste of himself remained on your buds. and fuck, if that didn’t shoot his cock straight back up.

it wasn’t long before you spasmed around satoru’s cock, squeezing him so tightly that it made his breath hitch. suguru talked you through it the entire time, until satoru spilled inside you. his filled your cunt full of his seed and fucked it so deep within you.

the two shared one look, both knowing their cocks were equally as hard once again, and they started switching places. despite having a significant amount of energy stolen from you, you were excited and your ass wiggled in the air as suguru rounded your backside.

you were in for a long night, but as your boys’ plaything, you were simply just unable to complain!

[sunnywiz]

pairing: bf!san x afab!reader

contains: smut with a tiny bit of plot: head, petnames(baby, good/sweet/my girl), little swearing, head (m. receiving)

summary: bf!san coming home after getting annoyed at the gym

wc: 0.6k

susu's note: hi hi this is my first post here..... kinda nervous... hopefully yall don't think this is absolute bs LOL

MDNI !!

You’re laying on the sofa, watching a new movie you found, legs squeezed up against your chest as you’re sipping on your tea. You hear the jingle of keys behind your apartment’s door and soon the doop opens as your sweaty boyfriend walks in. 

“Hey baby” you get up and exclaim to him happily but your expression turns into a worried one after seeing him all exhausted. “Don’t start” he answers and takes his jacket off, turning away from you.

“What’s wrong Sannie?” You ask while petting his arm. Suddenly he turns back to look at you and brings his face close to yours. His glasses are fogged up and you can see that he really is all sweaty. “Did you go to the gym?” you ask him. 

“I did…but I couldn’t focus for too long” he says, locking his eyes on yours as his expression darkens. “Why’s that?” you ask and don’t break eye contact with him.

“A certain someone had been messaging me all day, distracting my thoughts” he says and grabs your chin to bring your face close to his. “You know the consequences of distracting me, right?” you gulp slightly to his words but answer confidently “Oh I will pay you back”. 

San smirks at you and puts his hand on your head, pushing it down lightly. “Is that so? How will this sweet girl do that?” you get on your knees in front of him and play with his belt. “I’ll make up for all the minutes I bothered you today” you tell him your voice in a seductive tone as you pull off his belt and put your hand on his growing bulge. San groans slightly at your touch and pets your hair. 

You undo the button of his pants and pull them down leaving him in his underwear. “Or should I just leave it?” You look at your boyfriend’s already painfully grown bulge and pull his underwear off too, his member springing out and hitting his stomach. You look up at San and he moves your head closer to his cock with his hand. “Come on baby, take it” you stroke his cock a few times with your hand and suddenly lick a long strike along his member from the root to the tip. San lets out a groan and grabs your hair lightly, expressing his want of getting more of you.

This time you kiss his tip and take it into your mouth. You look up at your boyfriend’s already sweaty, but now also blushed face. You moan on his tip, causing a vibrating feeling for him and he shivers. “Please baby, be a good girl for me and take it all. I know you can” you feel something click inside of you at his words and take all of his length in your mouth. San moans at the sensation as you bob your head on his cock. 

“Oh baby…you got me all worked up at the gym…and now…” you giggle internally at his words and continue to bob your head and swirl your tongue on his length. “Please baby…I need a release” you look up once again to see him throwing his head back and almost losing his balance. “God, you feel incredible” he exclaims. You moan on his cock and you feel his member twitch slightly. He grabs your hair tiger as a sign of him being right on the edge. He moves your head back and forth faster and suddenly stops and you feel his hot load spilling through your mouth into your throat. San lets go of your hair and you get his length out of your mouth. You show him proudly how you swallow all of his seed.

“That’s my girl” he says while fixing your hair from the mess he caused from grabbing it tightly. “Did I pay you back well now?” you get up and ask him doe-eyed.

“You did, but now I have to reward you for it”.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Are these my hands, still? (scrubbed clean as they are?)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here

pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.6k

genre: hurt/comfort, angsty but happy ending always always always

warnings: we're back with the blood on hands analogy, this is vaguely and metaphorically about consent, love and redemption and finding yourself blah blah blah

a/n: me ?? posting a fic ?? new year miracle fr. I haven't written in,,, a long time. I'm getting back into it but guys I am kinda rlly fuckin unwell and couldn't rlly proofread so I HOPE you all enjoy it at least a bit <33

"Do you ever… miss it?" It's not often that your voice is quiet, but tonight Damian has to shut off the water in the bathroom sink and turn to you, cocking his head to the side as if to hear you better.

"Miss what, my love?" he asks gently, leaning his hip against the smooth, granite counter and watching as you stand at your own sink, scrubbing rather aggressively at the dried blood on your hands. It has been a messy patrol, to say the least, and the two of you are sort of thrumming from the adrenaline of it as you stand in the dull light of your bathroom.

"Just… well, I don't know," you mumble, and it's enough to make something that feels upsettingly close to worry begin to eat at Damian's heart. He's not used to you stumbling - not used to you sifting through words and searching so desperately. And he knows, with a fearful sort of vulnerability, that you're not used to it, either.

So he can't really stop himself from chasing after you, can't find it within himself to leave you drowning. Damian moves toward you slowly as you stare down at your hands and scrub, and you find it difficult to stop even when he covers your frantic movements with one large palm while he reaches his other hand to turn off the water. It had been hot, he realizes rather abruptly, and your skin is too warm to the touch, steam still rising from the white sink basin.

"My love," he says slowly, leaning down a bit with slouched shoulders so that he can crane his head enough to look at your downturned face. "Please talk to me. Please."

You pull your hands out from under his instead of speaking, and he turns his palm to face upward so that you can place your hands there, dried blood ground into the grooves and prints of your skin.

"How long has it been?" you ask dully. "Since our hands looked like this?" Our, you think, a sickening sort of nausea twisting within you. But his are clean these days, always always always.

"It… doesn't happen often," Damian says slowly, a frown tugging at his lips as he feels himself chasing after you - feels himself trying desperately to catch up with whatever's dragging you under right now. "But there's… never a last time for things like these. It's not up to us to know when we'll have to get our hands dirty again."

When you look up at him, then, your eyes are big and shining and open, staring with something that looks a bit less like love and a bit more like longing. It makes Damian's stomach twist, just a bit, and he reaches one arm to wrap around your waist and pull you into him while his other hand abandons yours to tangle into your hair and guide your face to his chest.

There's no space for longing here, he thinks. There is only love. There is only love here and it belongs to you. He hopes, a bit desperately, that the sound of his heart thumping in his chest is enough to say that - to remind you of that. When you press your face closer to him and tangle your bloodied hands into his shirt, he can't help the touch of relief that courses through him.

"I need you to tell me what's going on, beloved," he says softly, and in any other situation you might've laughed at him - might've poked fun at the fact that Damian Wayne is practically begging at your feet like a dog desperate for a bone. 

You just sigh at his words tonight, though, tipping back and away from him as you untangle his arms from around you. He lets you, notably, his hands ever gentle and pliable under your touch. But when you spin back to the sink, turning the hot water back on with a steaming hiss, he lets one large palm cover yours again. 

"Let me do it for you, please?" And there's something about the way he asks it, something about the love in his begging that makes you crumble and nod. 

"You don't have to ask, you know," you say quietly as he takes your hands gently into his own over the sink and begins to scrub ever so gently at your skin. "You don't need my permission."

"You don't belong to me," Damian points out softly, but a frown tugs at his lips once more because he thought you knew that. 

"No, I - I know that. I just mean…" You trail off, though, as you stare at your hands engulfed in his, the gentle motions of his fingers wiping the red from your hands over and over and over again. "I belong to myself, I know," you continue, ignoring the thick unfamiliarity of the sentiment. "But we… we've given ourselves to each other, right? You don't have to ask."

"It's not a formality," Damian muses in the quiet bathroom, the pale light reflecting down onto the two of you. "It's a promise. It's… a reminder, my love."

"Of what?"

"Of what you just said," he reminds you patiently, his eyes flickering up to you as you keep your own gaze locked on your intertwined hands. "You belong to yourself now. These hands are yours now, completely. You get to choose what to do with them. You get to choose what's done with them."

"Ah," you say flatly, Damian's words jarring in a familiar sort of way. None of it's new, but sometimes it slips away from you just a bit too much on nights like this.

Your hands, you realize sort of distantly, are clean again, and Damian's taken a towel to dry them with a gentleness that the two of you seem incapable of most days. He moves with a softness that feels learned rather than inherited and it makes something that feels dangerously like hope flutter through your chest.

You don't speak through the rest of it, content to stare down at your clean palms as he smoothes his fingers over your skin and throws the wet, used towel onto the counter. As your eyes flicker to track the movement, watching as it splats onto the solid granite with a dull, muffled flop, you find your gaze searching for the red that you're sure should be there. You find yourself looking for the blood that must've been scrubbed from your hands - that must've seeped into the white fabric and stained the towel into something unusable. 

"You cleaned them enough on your own, you know," Damian muses gently, smoothing a stray hair away from your face as he wedges himself between you and the counter to block your view from the towel. "You didn't really need me to do it for you."

"Didn't I?" you say haltingly. "Why did I - why did you do it, then?"

"Do you remember when we were children?" he asks in lieu of answering, a confused look scrunching over your face at his words. "The first time we really fought - the first time you cut me with your sword."

"Yes," you snap just a bit, and you find yourself balling your hands into fists so that you can't stare at your palms any longer.

"I remember it, too," Damian muses further, and you look up at him with furrowed brows while he smiles - something soft and sweet and loving beaming down toward you. "I remember feeling it."

"…What?"

"It's so human to bleed, isn't it? So human to be beaten." Your face morphs into bewilderment at his rambling, at the sweet reminiscence that passes through his voice. He takes your hands into his with a gentleness that wasn't supposed to belong to him, and as he smoothes his thumb over your knuckles you can't help but wonder if there was ever anything really wrong with your hands at all.

"Why are you bringing this up right now?" you ask quietly, and he flips your hands over in his hold so that your palms are facing up, staring back at you as you glare down at them.

"Because I was always human. I just needed you to remind me of it. Sometimes we need to be reminded, beloved. That's all." He says it simply, of course, like the words haven't ripped the ground from underneath you. But they have - and you both know it, you both feel it as you teeter on your feet.

"They don't look like my hands when they're clean like this," you offer hollowly, your voice swallowed by the dim light of the bathroom, shrouded by the love that pours from Damian as he lifts your hands to press kisses to each one of your fingertips. "These aren't my hands anymore."

"But they are, aren't they?" he says simply. "They're yours now more than ever before."

"What am I…" you falter. Damian waits - ever patient, ever solid under your touch. "What do I do with them?"

"Whatever you'd like."

"Should I…" you trail off, staring up at him first and then down to your palms again, his hands tangled with yours. "Should I do something good with them?"

"Do you want to?"

"Always," you answer quickly. "Yes, I - you know I do."

"Well, then," Damian shrugs - like loving you is easy, like knowing you is something he was born to do, "I suppose it's inevitable that you will."

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Favourite Crew

A/n: that video of James jerking off a mic… yeah… that

Warnings: smut, shower sex, oral (male receiving), hair pulling, rough sex, masturbation, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

James was in the shower, letting his muscles relax after a concert. Metallica had been touring for two months straight and this was their first stop where they actually got a hotel so he was taking advantage.

Water hit his back and neck, trickling down his toned torso. He adjusted his weight, leaning back slightly. He rolled his neck as a low groan left him and he moved his hand faster.

He held himself in both hands, one wrapped around the base of his hard cock while the other worked effortlessly up and down the length of it. His tip was all blushy, pre leaking from his slit. The hair leading up his abdomen and around his girth was wet and clung to his skin.

“Oh, fuck.” His voice was low as he groaned out your name. You were so hot, all sopping wet and on your knees, only when he opened his eyes it wasn’t you in front of him, waiting for him to spill his load on your face.

“That’s no my name.” The woman said, some groupie he pulled from the crowd. She had similar features to you, the cut and colour of her hair, her eyes were a close enough colour. “If I’m just going to sit here with my mouth open you could at least get my name right.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him.

James took the hand stroking his cock and brought it to his head, pulling her hair harshly and forcing her to look at him. “I brought you to my room, if you wanted someone to care about you you should’ve found someone else, right now you Y/n, got it?” He ordered, waiting for her to nod before he let go of her. “Good, now open your fucking mouth.”

She did as he ordered, as anyone would, and didn’t flinch when he brought his tip closer to her. James smeared his pre-cum over her face, tapping her cheek with an unamused look on his face. “Choke on it, you fucking pig.” He grumbled bringing his hand back to her hand and forcing her to take all of him.

The small room filled with his guttural groans, grunting out your name every chance he got. It wasn’t you but this was close enough.

He could feel himself pulsing down this woman’s throat, getting closer and closer to his release. He didn’t care how loud he was being, this was the first chance on the tour so far he got to be alone with someone, even if it wasn’t you it would suffice.

He loved you, he spoke to you every day. Surely you wouldn’t mind if he was with someone else so long as he was thinking of you, right? He wouldn’t mind that he was thinking about you while he was getting off.

He choked on his words as he came, hot strings of cum shooting down the groupies throat and gagging her. He pulled out and washed his cock clean of her spit while she coughed.

“Get up.” He ordered, not bothering to spare her a glance as he turned the water off. When she didn’t immediately do as he asked he cut the water off and repeated himself louder. “Jesus, are you fucking deaf? Get the fuck outta here, no one wants to see that.”

He got out of the shower and dried himself off, being kind enough to toss the woman a towel as well, if you could call it that.

A knock came to the door his room, wanting to get to it fast he just tied the towel around his waist and went to it.

“Who the fuck is- Y/n.” He said, blinking in surprise when he saw you standing on the other side of the door. Your eyes went wide when you saw what he was wearing, and what he definitely wasn’t.

You shook your head and cleared your throat, reminding yourself of what you came for. “Um, one of the sound guys, his rooms just next door, he said you were calling for me..?” You explained, hoping the reason wasn’t what you thought it would be.

[crescentflics]

MINORS DO NOT ENAGAE. 18+

Random short blurb..

Trigger warnings: stalking, slight cnc? I think? Mask kink, mentions of panty stealing

______________________________________

Summary: Ghost face Rafe has silently gotten into your house and you, unaware, are sitting in your vanity chair in front of your mirror, blindfolded. He watches you touch yourself while he jerks off with your panties behind you.

WARNING: I intend to post dark smut. This piece is DARK. Be warned that my page will get dark and ALL my work may be uncomfortable for some viewers and it is NOT intended for minors.

Enjoy XoXo

______________________________________

Rafe had only ever seen her out in public one time before he began watching her. Just one glance and she was his greatest obsession. Anywhere she went, Rafe was somewhere in the distance. He couldn’t help it, she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

But she was so fucking dumb. He’d gotten into her house so easily, he almost wanted to laugh. He made his way quietly up the stairs, hot underneath his mask. Just incase she saw him, he wasn’t ready to give up his identity. He still wanted to play with her.

He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d broken into her home to steal her panties. He made his way upstairs to her bedroom. And to his surprise the door was wide open.

The curly haired brunette was sitting at her large brown vanity, legs hanging over the arms of her vanity chair. The girl had a blindfold over her eyes, she was dressed in lingerie that was a deep shade of red. Lace patterns swirled around her skin leading to an opening at her cunt for easy access.

Rafe watched her fingers press a small vibrator against her clit in circles, her body writhed gently in the chair, her pussy soaking and lips panting. His cock was hard instantly. He palmed himself through his jeans, teasing himself further until he slowly unzipped his pants and pulled his thick cock out.

Rafe locked his eyes on her parted lips, he wanted to walk over and slap his slick tip against her lips. The thought made his cock throb and he wrapped his large hands around his length. He wanted to groan at the pleasure of pumping through his hand.

He squeezed tightly, imagining the feeling of her dripping pussy swallowing him whole. He reached into his back pocket with his free hand and pulled out a pair of her purple lace panties. He wrapped them around his cock and stroked harder.

If the girl opened her eyes, she’d see Rafe standing tall in the door way, masked head thrown back in silent pleasureexposting his Adam’s Apple. His muscles would be clothed in a fitted black T-shirt and would flex with the motions of his slow hard thrusts around his dick, under the mask he his lip between his teeth, trying to keep his groans low as he pictured her.

He straightened his head again and stared at her perfect body in the mirror, her moans we’re growing louder and her pussy was starting to drip onto her seat, she pushed her hips desperately into the toy.

He wanted to punish her for leaving her doors open for anyone to come in and see. He could grab her by her hair and bend her over her vanity. He stroked his cock faster.

Pull her wrists behind her back and hold her down tightly enough to bruise her. He’d pound her pussy so hard. His breathing grew heavier despite his efforts.

He pictured the way she’d sound. The way she’d look taking such a thick dick so deep. He wanted to fill her with his cum, he wanted her to belong to him. He needed her pussy around his dick. The thought of breeding her tight hole pushed him over edge and he couldn’t help but groan quietly when he released thick cum on her pretty panties.

The girl froze in her mirror. He decided with a smirk to drop the panties there and disappear before she could spot him.

[teaxeee]

When Matthew let you tie a bow on his bicep, he didn't think much of it. Since he knew about the trend a while back ago (aka catching you watching videos of it) he thought it would be you recreating it. He was both right AND wrong at the same time. It started off with you coming up to him and asking "Can I tie a bow on your bicep?" while batting your eyelashes at him, which you knew it was his weak point, and besides, how could he refuse his girlfriend's request when she was being cute? So of course he said yes and you happily pulled out the ribbon you had hidden behind your back.

He watched as you grabbed his arm, forcing him to hold it out while you tied the ribbon around his bicep, making a perfect bow. You were trying not to show how eager you were, but the giggles you let out gave it away. He didn't mind it tho. When you told him to flex his bicep he did, his eyes fixed on your face as he saw your reaction. Surprsingly, the bow didn't break! That made it all better, because the thoughts you were starting to get...you were starting to crave him, you just needed to do something about it.

Within a few minutes you were on your knees, his sweatpants on the floor along with his boxers as you tied the fabric that was on his bicep at the base of his cock. He watched how loosely you tied the ribbon against his sensitive skin, he knew how afraid you were in case you made it too tight for it to hurt. The sight made him aroused, his eyes fixed on the way your hand wrapped around his veiny cock and pumped his length, it had him moaning. You were too eager to wait so without saying a word you wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked on it, as you looked up at him.

It took everything in him to not nut prematurely, he was so turned on by the way you sucked him off, watching you take his length deeper in yiur mouth. As much as he didn't want to interrupt your pace, he couldn't help but move his hand to your hair, his fingers tangling in it and holding it gently, guiding you as your tongue swirled around his cock as you bobbed your head, clearly feeling too cock drunk to even register him properly. He couldn't help but praise you, saying stuff like "So good, baby." or "Such a good girl, sucking my cock like that." He just couldn't stop the words coming out of his mouth! He was too obsessed with the way your mouth felt that he didn't notice when you took him fully in your mouth, deepthroating him and choking slightly from how big he was. That made him grunt and whine at the same time, his hand tightening on your hair as he tried to pull you off, but you wouldn't give in!

It wasn't long before he filled you mouth with his warm cum, watching you swallow up the ceamy liquid. He thought it was over, but he was so wrong when you started bobbing your head again. He was seeing starts, his breathing becoming heavier as he gave in to the pleasure, gave in to you. That's how he ended up getting the best head of his life <3

[thingsthatresemblewords]

Part of me can't believe I've been reading fanfiction for more than a decade but have never written any before. The other part of me is excited to finally have a series that inspired me to write something. It's not much, but here's my contribution to the Deep Space Discounts fandom.

Imme took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Hey Vee? I just wanted to check on you, you've been in there for a while and I thought I heard a *crash* a little while ago and..."

The door to the employee bathroom whooshed open before Imme could finish her sentence. Her eyes immediately went past Vee and fell on the wreckage behind her.

"Oh. Oh God. Vee, is that..."

"A destroyed receipt printer? Yep. Sure is. They don't want us to have access to anything that could be used as a weapon while we're here, but Kip figured out that, if he "disassembled" a printer, the sharp edge that is used to cut the receipts could be used as a knife."

DeeDee's face lit up on Vee's wrist. "Attention [VEE]! You have added [THREE HOURS] to your sentence for [DESTRUCTION OF DEEP SPACE DISCOUNTS PROPERTY]!"

Vee shrugged. "Worth it."

Imme stood rooted to the ground with shock. "*Why* was it worth it?" she asked. Her eyes drifted up to Vee's scraggly bangs, now somewhat scragglier than before. The penny dropped. "Oooooh. ...Do you want some help with that?"

Vee's grin turned a little sheepish. "Yes please?"

Imme stepped into the bathroom and took the blade from Vee's hand. "Here. Why don't you... sit down and we'll get this taken care of. Do you want the back any shorter?"

Vee nodded. "Might as well, it's all getting a bit longer than I'd like it to be."

Vee parked herself on the floor in front of the toilet while Imme seated herself on the closed lid behind her. "Okay, I haven't *exactly* cut hair before, but it should still turn out better when you're not trying to do this yourself." Imme paused and adjusted her grip on the printer blade. "You know you could have asked me for help, right?"

Vee blushed. "I didn't want to... bother you... with something so silly. I've managed okay on my own before."

Imme's fingers combed through Vee's hair, and she pulled the first section taut so that she could run the blade through it. It slipped through with almost no difficulty; clearly space technology was so far ahead of Earth's that even the shoddy, cheap stuff was precise and well-made. Imme shook off her shock at this discovery and continued working. Another small pinch of hair fell to the floor.

"You *really* don't need to worry about that. Whether it's handling customers or haircuts, I've got your back."

They fell silent for a while, and the only sound was the smooth *shhk* of the printer blade through hair. Imme lost herself to the silky, familiar-yet-different feel of Vee's hair and the quiet rhythm of the work. At length she realized that she was out of hair in the back to trim.

"Okay, I think I've got the hang of this enough to try the bangs. Turn around for me?"

Vee scooted around until they were face to face.

Imme took a deep breath and looked Vee in the eyes. "You ready?"

Vee smiled reassuringly. "Absolutely."

Imme leaned in and gently took the first section of Vee's bangs between her fingers and ran the blade through it. She was so intensely focused on doing that it wasn't until she had finished that she realized that they were very, very close. Her eyes met Vee's and for a long moment they just looked at each other, both subconsciously holding their breath as the moment hung suspended in time.

They might have stayed there longer if they weren't startled apart by a loud bang on the door and the muffled but unmistakable sound of Kip yelling. "Quit making out in there, I need to pee!"

Imme blushed hard and lept up from where she was sitting, and she stammered back, "Sorry, I- we weren't- I just-"

"Shut up Kip!" Vee shouted back. She and Imme tumbled through the door and back into the break room, flustered and embarrassed. "Sorry about that, Imme, I-"

"No, *I'm* sorry, you don't need to-"

They cut eachother off, and then paused. Vee broke the silence first. "So, did it turn out okay? How do I look?"

Imme's blush somehow got darker. "It's good. You look... you look really good." She turned away and started back towards the floor. "I'm gonna go see if Clayre wants me to cover a break, I'll talk to you later."

Vee stood for a moment and watched Imme leave. Finally she sighed and turned to look in the mirror. She brushed her fingers through her newly evened-out bangs and remembered the feeling of Imme's soft, measured breathing against her forehead. Distantly, she registered a furious, muffled shout of "Why is there HAIR EVERYWHERE!"

[weepingwitchbitch]

Okay not sure if this will be my first post or my Megumi one. I’ve never really written fanfic, lowk don’t know how to write without making it too detailed or never enough detail 💔..

Warnings: slightly overstim, bj, tojis superrr sensitive, he’s mean all at once though, a little bit of tears???

I think everyone talks about Toji being so dominant and so powerful mainly because he’s 99% muscle 1% body fat. But just imagine how sensitive this man would be to your touch. All those muscles might be so heavy and tiring carrying around, poor toji, he’s definitely always sore and has crazy body pains from working out.

one small flick of your cute little hand just on his bicep or his beefy thigh and he’s getting needy, holding back his little soft groans, and now he needs you to massage something else. (I think I’m so funny)

And once he voices out his yearning for you by grabbing you back down into his lap, nuzzling his face into your shoulder and back. Just asking for you to give him some love and attention.

Next thing you know you’re on your knees nuzzling into his thighs that oh so sore from working out. Your hands tugging at his shorts waistband and seeing the overly large tent set up in his boxers, which you also slowly pull down. And now you’re close breathing on his straining erection that’s standing all so proudly, glaring at you just needing your touch and love.

Purposefully teasing him and just breathing around him, seeing his striking vein on his length twitch and the slightly dribble of pre coming down.

“Please, stop teasing it’s fucking painful..dolly…” that’s genuinely the only time you’ve ever heard him beg though it came out more bratty then yearning.

But it’s all you need to just sink your mouth down on his thick head and slowly suck, maneuvering your tongue all around his dripping salty slit. And the groan this man lets out. I’m not saying he’s never dominant, but there’s time where he just has to let you take control and let you take care of him sometimes.

And now his hands are tangled in your hair as you move your mouth up and down, taking in more than half his length only to go back to teasing and sucking at his tip. His groans gradually got louder, some sounded like whines as he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving for him. “fuckfuckfuckfuck…ma, it feels so good- ah it h-hurts…please- fuck..” that just made you move your head faster, licking that one little spot that made him twitch rapidly and gasp louder.

He was already so close from just emptying out in your mouth but he lost it once he finally looked down, and he couldn’t stop himself from rutting into your mouth. Your eyes so glossy and cute, that little glint of mischievous, paired with the slightly squint of you smiling around his cock once he finally looked at you. His big load ending up all in your mouth and have nothing better to do then suck it all out of him and now he’s moving your head while rutting his hips into your mouth and you swore whimpers were coming out.

“Haa..mm..! Fuck..wait..!” As if he wasn’t the one rutting himself into your mouth. And finally his hips stop and now he’s just and panting mess, all while you just sit there massaging his thighs. And finally you sit up, just sitting on one of his thighs pressing small kisses to his fucked out face and all he can do is mush your face into the couch going on about this was a one time thing, he will always be the one in control in bed, and if word spilled he was whimpering and came a little bit too fast from just a few minutes of sucking and massaging, he’ll kill you.

A/n: already stated this but this is my first fic and I’m ANXIOUS about it 💔💔💔 I hope you enjoy 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

[brokencages]

explaining my bpd neji headcanon

this started out as a self projecting hc for a modern au and then it spiraled and now i have a lot to say! sorry if it's incoherent and rambly that is simply who i am.

he displays a lot of symptoms common in (though not exclusive to) bpd. a pattern of unstable relationships, an unstable sense of self/identity issues, trouble managing anger, black and white thinking, fear of abandoment, self harming or suicidal behaviors etc.

first off is his black and white worldview in part 1. he believed in predetirmined fate and that you could do nothing to change it. he uses very extreme words, which i highlighted below, like never, always, unchangable, inevitable, useless, etc. all leaving no room for grey areas or other possibilities, even if deep down he doesn't believe it completely.

he cares for hinata but due to his views and his anger against the upper branch, it 'outweighs'/overshadows the good and he lashes out against her, this is reminiscant of splitting to me. the times we see him lashing out at her violently that had to be stopped by others were impulsive also, split seconds brusts of anger.

he has very little sense of self. from philosophy of fate being predetermined and unchanging, growing up in the lower branch being told his purpose is to protect hinata, and this scene:

it makes sense, it doesn't matter who he is or how he sees himself, since that never spared him or his father. he clings to the label of prodigy, which reminds me of when i struggle with my own sense of self, i latch onto a certain way i'm percieved or a character (cough cough neji).

his role is a genius and he will fulfill that, his role is in the lower branch and he will not escape that, and naruto's role is to lose, and he will not escape that. except when naruto didn't lose and that shattered his whole worldview.

when he previously devalued naruto, hinata, and lee for being weak and trying to defy fate, he was not only called out for doing the same (yk his projection/hypocrisy), but proven wrong, which led him to deeply respecting and idealizing naruto, swinging between the two extremes.

abandonment issues are kind of harder since they're not really shown, but the trauma lf losing his dad very likely resulted in that. so. and something that could be connected to it also is how he feels about weakness:

he's strong, and he's valued because of it. with what he said about how you must live in the boundaries of the judgements set by others and how he avoids being seen as weak, that could him not wanting to be abandoned if he's ever seen that way or if he goes beyond the boundaries of what others see.

during the kidomaru fight he also goes to great lengths to win, which yk happens in all the fights, but he also brings up how he can't lose BECAUSE he's a genius. he was fighting for his friends and naruto (and sasuke... sasuneji sneak...) but i think it's interesting how he still brings this up.

(btw i love the kidomaru fight so much btw it's one of my favourite fights because of neji's development and the scenes where his hair is all loose and when the bird flies overhead and the feather lands in his hand)

now onto self harming or suicidal behaviors! as far as i know it's a common sentiment that his death was suicide, and i agree. while it was to protect hinata and naruto you can't tell me he wasn't atleast a little suicidal T_T he believes that the only fate we share is death, and knows the only way to be rid of the caged bird seal is to die, that's a pretty easy road to suicidal ideation and one i personally relate to. with my chronic illness and mental health issues, i'd only be rid of them if i died, which did lead me to being suicidal and actually attempting.

okay i dont know how to end this but i think those are my big major points. looking at the diagnostic criteria for bpd he hits most. stress related paranoia or loss of contact with reality/dissociation is just an easy headcanon even if its not shown in canon.

okay bye ty for reading 🤍🤍🤍

[ciil]

what makes us any different?

[novicedraws]

Doodles!

(I’ll probably be absent again cause holidays but have some brain dump)

[call-me-copycat]

Did I hear right? They animated my favorite manga panel?! (　･`ω･´)✨

This is great! This is amazing! I'm so happy right now!