#but i'm in an apartment complex so it's not exactly the same

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[paper-mario-wiki]

Could you explain how Ambrosia is able to come back after dying?

1

Sure yeah, I'll give it a shot.

[Fursona Lore/ Mild Existential Horror presented in charmingly primitive MS Paint style under the cut]

2

[At the top of the panel there is the label "conceptual space (currently being created. The middle is labeled "THE UNIVERSE, REALITY (the other)". The bottom is labeled "CONSCIOUSNESS, REFLECTION (the self). The very bottom of the panel reads "OTHER, FREAKIER BUT LESS IMPORTANT STUFF" ]

To keep it brief, a person is when a certain amount of consciousness slips upwards into reality. Consciousness is, like the laws of thermo dynamics [sic], a fundamental property of the universe.

3

I'm sure you've heard of the sticking-a-pencil-through-paper metaphor for theoretical wormhole travel, right? Staying within that visual metaphor, imagine the moisture in the air around that "piece of paper" as what consciousness is. It creates tiny, imperceivable changes in the surface and makeup of the paper. Imagine a microscopic rain cloud making a tiny fraction of the paper a little bit soggy. That's what you are in the universe. A tiny soggy fraction of a massive piece of paper. (That's why you feel so small btw).

Of course, putting it into that metaphor IS greatly simplifying it, since in real life things like time and space sorta overlap, ya know? Because they're entirely separate dimensions of measurement. Consciousness is the same, it is everywhere in the universe all at once, but only after it seeps in from a place that is exactly where we are, but elsewhere. 4D stuff is complicated sorry if that's not super clear ha ha.

4

Normal people happen when a bunch of that stray potential-consciousness starts stacking more and more layers of reality on top of itself. Sort of like those pastries that you fold butter into and then fold it like 10 times and that makes it so theres like a billion layers of butter and dough and butter and dough and butter and dough and on and on and on. But with, uh. The other stuff. Consiousness and matter from the universe.

Speaking semantically, that's all the little tiny organisms that work really hard to make you alive. Like the biome in your gut, or the bacteria in your tissue and blood cells. Look it up, 43% of the human body is made of bacteria. Like, that's just on google.

Anyway, all their effort culminates in an increasingly complex meat shell that constitutes a person.

5

For the sake of practicality, we can imagine the way consciousness "seeps in" to the universe is like heat coming off the sun. The two overlapping infinite planes radiate into each other like heat radiates off the sun.

That clear? Heat from the sun. Remember that, it's important for the next part.

6

I'm sort of like a solar flare.

My consciousness, in its raw form, was so concentrated that it was like a tiny shooting star straight from the source.

Also kind of like a kidney stone, I guess.

7

Since my consciousness (which, to be clear, is approximately the same "amount" of consciouessness as anyone else, just all smooshed together into a single clump) is smooshed together into a single clump, the shell forms naturally as "reality" settles onto it. The "shape" the consciousness takes is basically the same as your body or anyone else's since the framework of both entities are the "same" on the "outside". Thus the "shells" turn out "similar" too.

Sorry for all the quotation marks, it's hard to talk about concepts outside of the third dimension in third dimensional terms, and like. I also am not super sure about this stuff either. I'm only relaying what I've learned from the scientists but some of it goes over my head.

I like to think I'm clever but like. I'm not a genius.

8

So here's the part where me and you are different: When your shell breaks apart (when you die) it's because the consciouessness had been escaping your shell, like air from a balloon, and the physical structure can't support itself anymore. Or, like, maybe you just fall over and hit your head on the concrete one day and pop the balloon all together.

Either way, the consciousness escapes from the pressure, and either goes back "down" where it came from, or goes upward into conceptual space, which is sorta being constituted through forces exerted in the physical universe. Well, I mean, really it's more of a product of a reaction between consciousness and physical space. Whatever I'm getting off topic.

The point is the shell breaks cuz the balloon pops. I think that was my point.

9

Now that you get all that, you can probably deduce on your own how and why I'm able to keep "coming back".

It's cuz I'm not really "coming back", I'm still here! The shell representing me here was just lost.

10

And while the facade may not look precisely the same every single time...

11

I remain the same.

[eowynstwin]

This truly is the last thing I want to say on this blog and then I'm done psych I lived bitch, but given how the fucking catastrophe started it's only appropriate this is how I end it—

You have racist bias whether you like it or not. Particularly if you are US American, racism was baked into your worldview no matter what kind of household, liberal or conservative, you grew up in. Racism is quite often far more covert than it is overt. It is not just a voluntary behavior; it is more often the subconscious ways you organize and hierarchize other cultures and people.

In the case of Gaz—sure, you might actively believe that he deserves to be more included. You think he's a good character and people really should think about him more! But you personally headcanon him a certain way, and really it's not a headcanon you're actually all that into, so that's why you don't talk about him as much. It's not because he's black, it's because he doesn't fit the thing you like talking about the most. The fact that he's black is really just a coincidence, you're not excluding him because of that. In fact, you're sure other people like him for exactly the reason you're not all that into him, and you'll just leave it to them to pick up the slack. Or you'll get to him later! In fact, you have some ideas for him. You just haven't gotten around to them yet.

Take that and multiply it by thousands of white women in fandom—not just this fandom, not just Gaz's character, but every fandom and every character of color. It doesn't matter that there's no active malice behind not personally liking black characters and other characters of color. Non-white characters still take a backseat to their white counterparts, because white women in fandom cannot wrap their heads around black, brown, indigenous, and Asian characters as complex, complicated characters worthy of their interest or frankly, their desire.

They cannot wrap their heads around this because they were conditioned not to by decades of racist culture.

Case in point; plenty of white women in this fandom have fallen head over heels for Makarov and Graves. The sins of these out-and-out villains are totally forgiven by virtue of their sex appeal, and because they are portrayed by attractive, charismatic men who put a lot of passion behind their performances.

But can we say the same for Hadir? Can we say the same for Hassan?

The sins of these two Middle Eastern characters do not outweigh those of their villainous white counterparts, yet how many angsty fix-it fics have been written exploring Hadir's complicated relationship with violence and imperialism? How many enemies-to-lovers or even lovers-to-enemies fics have been written about Hassan, the face of whose homeland has been irrevocably marred by US interference?

No one who points out the racism of this trend is accusing these white women of active, militant white supremacy. I'm not saying any of you even have to like Gaz, Hadir, or Hassan. But your preferences have been tuned for you by a culture shaped by slavery, imperialism, and white supremacy. That is not something you can escape merely because you support the BLM movement or reblog vetted Palestinian gofundmes.

The only way you can truly fight your own racism is to be actively anti-racist. It is about far more than who you give money to or what graphics you pin on your instagram. It is an everyday practice of learning how racism has shaped your worldview for you.

This is not work that is done in a week, a month, or a year. Becoming anti-racist takes as much time as it took to make you racist in the first place. For some of you, the work may turn out to be easy. For others, it may be hard. You must do it either way.

Some good places to start:

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

Ain't I a Woman? by bell hooks

We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity by bell hooks

A Burst of Light by Audre Lorde

The Body Is Not An Apology by Sonya Renee Taylor

Fearing the Black Body by Sabrina Strings

Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi

Being Palestinian edited by Yasir Suleiman

[hikarry]

So, I was rewatching season 1 and got stuck in that scene between Shadwell and Aziraphale in the bookshop.

What if Aziraphale never stepped into the circle? What if the fire never really happened?

Imagine:

Shadwell is lost in his shenanigans, ready to banish Aziraphale to whatever place witchfinders banish witches, and Aziraphale is slowly walking backward.

"Oh, but this is utterly ridiculous." He stops on his tracks, looking Shadwell in the eye. "I'm sorry, good man, but I have no time for whatever silliness is happening right now. If you don't mind, I have an Armageddon to stop." Aziraphale snaps his fingers, and Shadwell disappears, reapearing a few streets over at the other side of Soho. There surely he wouldn't get in the way.

Careful not to step on the active circle, Aziraphale leaves the bookshop and flags down the first cab he sees. The driver stops right in front of the bookshop, and he gets in, giving him Crowley's address in Mayfair.

The last time he called, the demon was home, so that's exactly where Aziraphale hoped he remained. With a bit of luck, he hadn't left for Alpha Centauri... Now that he thought about it, he mentioned having an old friend over? As far as he knew, he himself was the only friend Crowley had, so that statmebt now sounded like a load of nonsense. But whatever. He just needed to speak with Crowley, old friend present or not. Heaven clearly wanted the war to happen, and he had been naive to think they would see reason. The only chance the Earth had of surviving now was the angel and Crowley. He could only pray it wasn't too late and Crowley wasn't gone. He knew where the Anti-Christ was, after all. They could stop this!

When the cab stopped on the street of Crowley's building, Aziraphale paid his fare and threw a quick blessing in the driver's direction for his speed and efficiency before crossing the street and entering the complex.

He had been to Crowley's flat once or twice in the last 20 years. All he had to do was go through the entrance, get on the lift to the last floor, and walk down the corridor towards the last door. And that's exactly what he did, always fiddling with his fingers in a show of the nervous energy that seemed to take over him. They were running out of time. The end of the world would occur any minute now, and Crowley needed to be home. They still had to drive all the way to Tadfield's airbase, and the clock was tickling rather ominously inside his head.

Finally in front of the door to Crowley's flat, he knocked. A few seconds passed with no response, and he decided to knock again, stronger now, but he got exactly the same result.

Aziraphale looked around the hallway, taking a deep breath and smoothing his waistcoat, considering his options.

"Crowley?" He ended up knocking again. "Crowley, we need to talk!" Silence. "I know you're cross with me after our last conversation, but you were right. I talked to the Metatron. And they want the war. As I told you on the phone, I know where the antichrist is, and it would be very nice of you if you opened the door so we could get a wiggle on and stop the Apocalypse." Once again, he was met with silence.

Was it possible? Did Crowley actually leave for Alpha Centauri? He was here minutes ago! He couldn't have left already, right?

Oh, bless it all. He wasn't going to waste any more time.

With a final deep breath, Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and the door unlocked. He opened it slightly, peering inside.

"Crowley? I'm sorry If I'm intruding but this matter is rather urgent." All he got in return was silence. Not a single noise from the demon himself or the so called old friend.

He pushed the remainder of the door open and stepped inside, silently closing it behind him. He looked at the living room, but it was empty of any living soul, apart from the plants on the far wall.

"Crowley?"

Aziraphale called again, now walking towards the office to the left. The door was slightly ajar already, so he spied inside. It looked empty, but he walked in regardless, almost stepping on a pile of goo right there in front of the floor.

"What the...?" He looked down, stepping over the weird substance.

It smelled weirdly of sulfur and...was that Holy Water?

His head snapped to the desk, where he found the thermos he had given Crowley back in the 60s, the cap unscrewed by its side.

Suddenly, he felt his heart stop, and his veins turn into ice. His body gave an involuntary step back away from the smudge, his back hitting the throne as he lifted a now trembling hand to cover his mouth.

No. This couldn't be happening. He would-! Crowley certainly wouldnt-!

A sob escaped his throat as his whole body started shaking.

Oh lord. This was a nightmare. It could only be a nightmare. This wasn't real. Couldn't possibly be real.

Oh Crowley...

Aziraphale's legs failed him, and he ended up on the floor, back leaning against the side of the ridiculous throne Crowley liked so much. Not that he would like anything ever again because he was gone. Crowley was gone. And it was Aziraphale's fault. He was the one who gave him the cursed thermos against his better judgment. And now all his fears were laid bare right in front of his eyes.

Another sob escaped him and he let the heartache take charge, spilling warm tears down his cheeks.

Crowley was gone. The Apocalypse was coming and Crowley was gone. Not to Alpha Centauri but actually gone. Utterly destroyed. And all that remained of his best friend was an unidentifiable goo. Not a trace of Crowley remained.

He hugged himself, hanging his head low, letting the tears fall on his crossed arms and allowing the wretched sobs to take over. He couldn't bear to look at it a second longer. The smell of sulfur and Holy Water was starting to get nauseating.

Well, contrary to popular belief, Crowley was actually very much alive, speeding through the streets on London in the direction of the bookshop. He parked in his usual place and snapped his finger to open the doors of the building.

"Aziraphale?" He looked around, quickly spotting the active circle. Lifting an eyebrow above his sunglasses, he carefully walked towards it, still searching for any trace of the angel. "Aziraphale, are you here?"

The circle was still active with holy energy, so no one had actually stepped through it, and Aziraphale was clearly not in the bookshop, so where could he possibly be?

With a sigh, Crowley turned around and went back to the Bentley. He drove around Soho for a bit, trying to spot some blond curls in the crowd but falling short of success.

"Aziraphale, where the bloody hell are you?" He muttered to himself, carefully scanning the streets, until he gave up, changing his course back to Mayfair.

He needed to regroup. Without knowing where Aziraphale was and without the information on the antichrist he apparently had, Crowley needed to think.

He made his way back to his flat without paying much attention. When he noticed, he was already unlocking the door with his key and stepping inside. And, as soon as he did so, he heard it. Sobs coming from the office. That was...bizarre. Could it be Hastur? Had he figured out a way to leave the answering machine, and now he was crying over Ligur? Crowley almost laughed at himself with such a thought. Hastur? Crying? Now, that would be a sight he would pay to see.

Still, in the name of caution, he slowly made his way to the office, trying to be as silent as possible, when he quickly spotted the angel he had been looking for throught the wide open door, sitting on the floor besides the throne, arms around himself and face hidden while his whole body shook and heartbreaking sobs escaped his vocal chords.

Carefully and confused, he approached, stopping short of the door.

"...Angel?"

Aziraphale's head snapped up, staring at him with wide eyes, his face marked by tears.

"...Crowley?"

"Yeah." He slowly walked his way to the angel, careful not to step on Ligur, squatting in front of him. "Are you alright? What happened?"

He was still staring at him with clear confusing in his eyes, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly until he finally appeared to have found his voice again:

"You-! The-!" Aziraphale's body trembled, looking over Crowley's shoulder and then back at the demon. "You...you're gone!"

Crowley raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

"I just went to the bookshop searching for you, but when I arrived you weren't there already." Aziraphale shook his head, some more tears escaping his eyes along with a single sob. "Hey, hey." Crowley placed his hands on his shoulders, squeezing them. "What's-?" And then that's when it suddenly clicked inside his head. He looked up at the empty thermos on his desk and back over his shoulder to what remained of Ligur. "Oh, Aziraphale. No, no, no." His hands moved up to Aziraphale's face, forcing him to look up at him, his thumb brushing away some of the new tears running down his face. It burned considerably; angel tears were holy water after all, but right now, that wasn't his focus. "That's Ligur. I used the holy water to make a trap for him and Hastur when they came to take me." He brushes his thumb through Aziraphale's trembling lips, leaning in closer. "That's not me, angel. I'm alright."

Aziraphale sniffed, trying to regain control of himself, but failing miserably.

"I-I thought you were dead. I thought you had used the Holy Water. I thought-"

"Shhh." Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel, leaning his face against his, pulling him into an embrace. They had never hugged before, so it felt a bit strange. Awkward even. "I'm right here. That's not me." The angel grabbed handfuls of his shirt and pulled him closer, burying his face on the crook of his neck, taking deep breaths. "Yeah, that's it. Breathe." He ran his hand through his curls, trying to soothe him. "Everything is alright. I'm right here."

After a while, Aziraphale finally calmed down and moved away, just enough to be able to look at Crowley's face. For a moment or two, they just stared at each other. Aziraphale's red rimmed blue eyes looking right at Crowley's yellow ones; his sunglasses had ended up on his head at some point. The angel's eyes slipped down to the demon's lips for a second and Crowley's licked them involuntarily, before his gaze went back to his eyes.

"You were right." Crowley tilted his head in confusion. "I talked to the Metraton. They want the war to happen...The Anti-Christ..." Aziraphale mumbled those last words.

"Right." Crowley stared down at Aziraphale for a couple more seconds before getting up, offering his hand to the angel to help him do the same. "You said you knew where he was?"

[fictionalslvr]

Part two part three

SYNOPSIS:Ghost is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. You're the only one to be kind with him.

PAIRING: (Based of comic but that's not 100% canon) Simon Riley neighbor x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT:3.500k

WARNINGS: Fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) etc.

NOTES:Ghost past is based on his comics, i'll prob make this one a mini serie (if you guys like), a lot different then what i usually write for, but i hope you guys enjoy without being what you guys are used on this blog, i'm planning to write both, angst and smut, even mix them sometimes. So, i hope you guys enjoy :(

(And again, tell me if there's something wrong, english is not my first language.)

It’s been a long while since you lived alone, and it’s been a very comfortable life since then. At first, it made you feel uneasy, after a long while, you were getting used to it, and having a place to call yours it’s everything you wanted before. Your apartment is cozy, organized with things you like, and you always try your best to keep it clean. The neighborhood is quite calm as well, you were living peacefully in this apartment complex.

That was until a new neighbor came in. He was a tall guy, he had a mysterious aura around him, it’s the quiet type and you don’t hear him speaking so often, actually, you never heard. To be honest, he doesn’t stay in his apartment too much, it’s the one above you, and hearing him it’s unusual. Maybe it is his work that keeps him so far for too long, you can’t say exactly what he works with, since you don’t know him properly. The only thing you know is that he keeps his face a mystery, always walking with a black balaclava that shows only his eyes, and this is a mystery you were dying to get to know. One day, while walking back to your humble home, you took the same elevator as the new neighbor, the silence that creeps out is weird, and you keep your eyes everywhere, but not on him. The silence was bizarre, and it seemed like it was going to take forever! When the elevator door opens in your floor, you can only rushes out of that tiny place with that man, that almost make you hyperventilate.

He looked calm during it, laying his back in the walls while his arms were crossed and he was looking distracted. With a quick but gentle movement, you just nod your head to him when leaves, he looks surprised by it, and nods back after some seconds staring at you. The metal door closes slowly, showing no more his figure.

But your encounters with him were always like this. Some head nods and sometimes a smile from your part, But the mystery this man is, no one knows him well enough for a talk, and this was making you insane, All days, you caught yourself thinking about him, how his voice sounded like, how his face is behind that mask, what he works with, what is his name, his age..things like that kept haunting your thoughts. Until one day, you decided to make a slight move, asking for some ingredient would be a great way to hear his voice, and maybe later baking him something to give it to him.

You sigh, you heard some footsteps, he must be home today. You knock on the door, gently with your hands shaking. It doesn’t take too much until your ears peak with the sound of him getting close to the door. His figure appears when he opens just half of the door.

—”May I help you?” —His voice is raspy, calm and relaxed at the same time. You notice how he has a strong British accent. From this distance, you can smell his scent, it’s strong and smells like whiskey and cigarettes, it’s oddly…comforting.

—”Sorry for bothering, I'm the neighbor below, I just want to know…if you have some sugar to give, by any chance.” —With a cute smile, you show him a little bowl in your hands that he can put the sugar in, the man narrows his eyes at you and nods.

—”Yes, I do. wait a minute.” — His fingers brush against yours when he takes the bowl in your hands and goes inside for a while. He leaves the door slightly open, and you just wait outside hearing his heavy footsteps around the house. When he’s back, your little bowl is filled with sugar, and he gives it back to you, his fingers brushing yours again.

—”Thanks, this will help a lot. I’m making cookies…would you like some?” — Your gentle voice was hard to ignore, he slowly nodded, and you can hear a little chuckle escaping his lips. It’s very good to hear, you felt your heart skipping a beat, he’s leaning against the door frame, looking at you.

—”Thanks for the sugar, I'm [name] by the way." —He keeps silent for a while, like he’s listening to your voice attentively.

—”It was nothing. I’m glad to help you, [name].”—You were expecting that he would say his name, but he just tries your name on his tongue. The tense ambient between you two is noticeable when the silence is back. You can only hum softly and look away.

—’What is…your name?”

—Simon. Call me Simon.”

—”Oh…okay Simon, thanks again and pleasure to meet you. Goodbye!”—Was a short talk, but it was enough to make your heart flutter with the warmth of his voice. You wave at him and he waves back, then all you can see is his back turning, his figure fading inside his house.

Quickly, you made your way back, still shivering a little, scared that he might think you’re weird. With a loud sigh, you close the door behind you, feeling safe inside your home. You know his name now…Simon. His voice is raspy and deep, and yet, makes you feel like you want to hear this voice every morning, the warmth of his body so close, his dark eyes staring at you making your legs weak. Everything about him didn't sound cold as they describe him.

He wasn’t that cold, deep and dark, no. He sounded so sweet and endearing to you, you just wish you could meet him better, talk to him more, listen to his voice, feel his presence towering at you, his expressions that you can only understand by his eyes, and you find this very beautiful, understand his feeling through his eyes, hear his warm chuckle filling the hall and not leaving your ears. It was memorable, even if it looked silly or too short. You felt really happy for doing that ‘move’.

Your kitchen is filled by a sweet smell, it’s the cookies you baked, with cute gloves around your hands, you take the plate with cookies and blow the steam off softly, Okay…you should give this to Simon now. You left a cute note too, that says ‘Enjoy the cookies, i hope its good :D’

After one hour of your visit, Simon doesn't stop thinking about his neighbor. You're sweet, you're the only one in this complex that had the courage to talk to him, the other ones just look at him from afar and give him some judgmental glances. But you...you came to talk, and was smiling too! That definitely means you're not afraid of him, that you're willing to talk to him even when he's using that balaclava all the time. His thoughts are interrupted by some knock on his door, and weirdly…he hopes it's you again. He walks to the door and opens, with some kind of rush, but he doesn't see your cute smiling figure, no…he looks everywhere and there's no sight of you, but looking down, he finds a little plate painted with flowers, there's some cookies on it and a note too. He bends his body down a little and smiles through the balaclava. Picking up the plate, he can sense the smell of the warm cookies, it's still a bit hot, the steam in the air, blowing a delightful scent. He enters his apartament again, closing the door with his feet as he looks at the cookies in his hands, they look delicious. Simon starts to read the post-it in the plate, it has a message for him

"Enjoy the cookies, i hope it's good :D"

-[Name]

That's cute, he thought. It takes a chuckle out of him. His stomach starts to snore in hunger, that smell filling his brain and all he can think about is…why is she being so nice? No one in this complex was ever this nice with him, somehow, they seem to be scared of him, disgusted, or even feel pity for him. But being kind? She's the first one and all he can think about is the reasons she's doing this. He's a stoic soldier, who works a lot, doesn't stay at home too much, smells of whiskey and cigarettes, he doesn't show his face, he's tall, looks scary…why is she not afraid of Simon? He sighs and shakes his head. Sitting on his couch with a loud sigh, he rests his head back while eating her cookies, it's indeed delicious as the smell, it's house made and tastes like love. He can't help but leave a joyful hum at the taste.

—"Why is this so good?" —He talks to himself, that seems a little crazy, but he's his only company for a long while, so he's used to this. She could have poisoned him with these cookies, but no, her intentions were good. He's a cautious man, always thinking of his work, and his work only. But now? He can only taste these good cookies and wish for more, he wishes he could taste a lot of things that she made, seeing her cooking would be adorable, and the taste and smell of it only fills his heart with love, the love he never experienced before. Simon caught himself thinking of being with her, on her apartment, seeing her cook while she mumbles a song to herself, moving her body along the kitchen so cutely, he can't help but think that he wants this for his life, this peaceful mind for once, being at easy, without all the fear his work provides. And for once, rest his mind.

But she's only a kind neighbor, he shouldn't be thinking of this. He shouldn't be thinking of coming back after a long mission, and seeing her lips curling into a smile, feeling her little arms hugging him because she missed him too much, he doesn't have this. And he thinks he didn't even deserve this peace. All the people he killed with his hands, the blood he dropped, the fear in people's gaze when he's around, he's not the one who should be at a comfort in home, happy and living good, no. He thinks he doesn't deserve this at all. She's probably just being kind, why would she enjoy his company after all? He doesn't have anything good in him, he's only a stoic man, with scars, a bad past and a hard work to do that makes his hands dirty. He's sure a man like him doesn't have this.

As for you, you didn't want to bother him with your presence again, so you just left the cookies on his door, rushing back to the elevator when you knocked on the door. You wish you could see his reaction, but you don't want to disturb his peace once more, talking a lot while he just listens. You really wish he liked it. While you're on your couch, your legs are moving up and down quickly, in a nervous movement, you can't help but bite your nails, your other fingers fidgeting on your lap, as your mind is full of thoughts about his reaction. Will he like it? What if he finds you annoying? What if he finds you weird and doesn't want you around? Gosh, your mind is tricking yourself. You sigh loudly and decide to try some sleep, this will maybe put your mind at ease once, meeting new people wasn't that easy for you.

By the morning, you woke up, not from the sunlight on your body, flashing on your eyes, not from the discomfort in your back from your sleeping positions, not from your cat resting in your tummy, none of this. But, you woke up by the sound of a knock in your door, a single one, who could be this early? You get up, leaving your little cat resting now in the bed, the sunlight keeping her warm. Your vision is still a little blurry, you rub your eyes with your fingers and walk to the door, opening without thinking too much about it, and the sight of who’s here messes your mind, making your vision immediately fix alone and your mind races, the sleep left your body.

—”Sorry for appearing so early. I am…going to work. And just wanted to say thanks for the cookies last night, they were delicious.” —Simon spoke softly, he seems not sleepy at all now, but his baggy eyes show that maybe he didn’t sleep, that’s why he’s so energetic now. You blush softly, his voice is even more deep in the morning, that British accent never leaving his tongue as he speaks.

—”Oh, that’s okay, I'm glad you liked it, Simon.” —Your voice sounded dragged by the remaining sleep, but you managed to give him a little smile. You want to know what he works with to leave this early.

—”I can see you were sleeping, sorry.” —Simon looks away, scratching the back of his neck even with the balaclava, scratching the silk of it. You look at your body and notice you're with your pajamas, it’s an old one, that is now short for you, and you can’t help but blush for Simon seeing you like this.

—”Don’t worry about it. Would you…like some coffee?” —You try to change the subject, hoping he won’t talk about your pajamas. A silence stays for a long while, Simon looks into your eyes, he’s surprised about your offer and it's visible. He can only nod and mumbles under his breath. He knows that he shouldn't be accepting this, he doesn’t deserve to have a calm breakfast, with someone who doesn't look at him disgusted by his acts, someone that is too innocent, that doesn't know what those hands did, what his ears listened to, what his eyes saw. For a brief second, he had a flashback of his past, everything he did. You're kind because you don’t know this man, don’t know the danger he could be to someone so innocent like you, who could literally break you with those blood painted hands.

You invite him inside, he’s now on your table, tapping his fingers on your table, as your figure is with you back turned to him, making coffee. This house is so cozy, warm and…a bit feminine, he could say. Simon looks in every detail, noticing how there's a lot of photos of you with what seems to be your family. You have someone that cares about you, everything he had vanished like dust, you’re so lucky for having a family. He wonders, if your family would take care of him too, if they would accept him like a son, and yet…he doesn’t have nothing with you, just some small talk. Maybe he is only overthinking. Your voice snaps him out of a trance, while he looks at your photos around the house.

—”How do you like your coffee? With sugar?”—He drives his attention to you again, who’s looking at him from your shoulder. He likes sugar, it’s something that can distract him from his bitter life.

—”With sugar, please.” —And after a while, in a good and comforting silence, you pour the coffee in two cups, putting one in front of the man on her table. He looks so much bigger than her chair, it’s a little funny, in a good way. The steam flows from their cups as Simon looks down to it, his face is hard to read, after all, only his eyes appear. Then, you caught yourself wondering, how he would drink the coffee with that balaclava.

—”I won’t look, i promise.”—You looks away, while blowing the steam and taking a sip of your coffee to disguise your nervous manner, bad idea, it was hot as hell, it burn your tongue, and you hiss in pain, dropping the cup back into the table quickly, happily, it didn’t break, You make a pout with your lips, your tongue hurts a lot now.

—”Oh, are you…okay?” —Simon left everything he was thinking behind and walked in front of you. He kneels down to level his height, since you’re sitting in the chair. His figure bends down to yours, his hands are shaking when he touches your arm slightly, like he’s afraid to make you uncomfortable.

—”Is’h okay…”—Your voice sounds weird, since your tongue hurts, you can’t speak properly. Simon takes a cup from your sink and pour the sink water on it, it’s not cold, neither hot. He kneels back, looking up to your eyes and giving you the cup with water.

—”Here, warm water will help.” —You do as he advises and drink the water without hesitation. The burden sensation easen a little, he seems to know what to do in this kind of situation.

—”How did you knew…thanks.”—Deciding to interrupt your question, you just say thanks to him. He looks right into your eyes, his expression seems softer a little, seeing you’re a little better.

—”My job…makes me learn how to prepare yourself for all kinds of situations.” —He talks a little about his job, not revealing what exactly it is. You look down at him, keeling down on his knees while looking worried about you, his hands still shaking, wandering on his knees, not touching you to make you uncomfortable. After all he passed through, he wouldn’t want someone like you to feel the same.

—”Thanks, it helped somehow. You’re really prepared for this.”

—”It’s my job to protect people. We have our ways to do so.” —Simon gets up from the ground and walks back to his chair, in front of you, slightly he lifts up his balaclava, revealing only his mouth and drinks a sip. The coffee it's not as hot as it was before. In a sign of respect, you look away, not wanting to invade his privacy, and he appreciates this a lot. After the burden sensation ends, you drink your now cold coffee, both in silence as you look away all the time, even with the curiosity to see his lips, you won’t do it. And by his words, you can guess what he works with…maybe he’s a doctor, a firefighter…a military?

—”The coffee is delicious, thanks for this.”—He feels himself going back to when his mom was alive, she was the only one who would really care about him, making him coffee…and this moment reminds him about her. It still hurts. A lot. He sighs softly, and you can say he’s thinking about something, but you won’t ask.

—”You often stay a lot of days out for work, no? Seems like a hard job.”

—”A very hard one, everything I do, changes a life. Big choices, big responsibilities…”

—”I understand…at least, I hope you can rest when you’re at home.”

—”It depends. I don’t really have any time to rest.” —You can hear Simon sigh, he’s really tired of this job. You still look away, not seeing his lips exposed a little. This moment, it’s the first one he could rest, even for a bit, not rest his body, but rest his mind.

—”And…will you stay out for days this time?”

—”Who knows.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. What a bad life he has, staying out for days, and when he’s back, he can’t even rest his mind. This moment, he wishes he could live like this forever, hearing your soft voice as you look around to respect his privacy, he didn’t even need to ask for, you knew somehow. Your cozy and warm apartment, it’s a lot different from his, his is almost empty, boring, sad. But yours? Had memories, life, and happiness. He wishes he could stay there forever. And he knows his duty, saving the world, saving citizens, or he could say…killing lives on exchange to save others. Making his hands dirty, so no one would need to do, only to see people like you, who has a family, a happy life, a rested mind, that’s why he does his job, so people like you can live without worries. In exchange, he sees things horrific, he hears screams in his ears that live on his mind, his body ends up tired and sore from all of this, just to see your smile on your face. He had a terrible childhood, he fought for his life, lost everything that was dear to him, in order to keep the peace in the world. In order to meet you, to see your brilliant smile. At least, he likes to think that way, this makes his life less insignificant, it’s like he’s a hero, when he knows he’s not. It’s just better to see this way, and hope it’s the truth, hope it’s not his imagination, trying to make him less guilty for everything he did all his life.

[sage-green-matcha]

NEIGHBOR - ETHAN LANDRY 🏙️

When Ethan can’t get enough of the girl next door!

MINORS DNI!

Content includes: SMUT! oral receiving !Fem, Ethan catching you! Switch Ethan kinda? A bit of praise!

A/n: wanted this to be longer but honestly had no energy to finish it :( but I rlly wanted to publish it anyways so here u go!

<3

<3

<3

You sighed at the sound of loud music playing. It was just loud enough to be heard through the wall. Even if the song that was playing was from one of your favorite artists, you just wanted to sleep. You had a big Econ test that you couldn't afford to fail.

You picked yourself up lazily, blanket wrapped around you as you slipped on your loafers. You felt the cold touch your legs, shivering as you walked next door.

You knocked a couple of times, looking up to be met with a familiar face. "Oh uh, Y/n...what are you doing here?" Ethan Landry? You knew him from your Econ class, and also Chad's best friend. You two had been partners for projects a couple times, so to say he was a stranger would be a lie. "Oh uh, hey Ethan. I was wondering if you could turn down your music a bit? I'm trying to sleep" He gulped, feeling immediate guilt for disturbing your sleep.

"Oh, yea..yea! I'm sorry" "Thanks" you smiled. You walked back to your apartment, you didn't know he was your neighbor. You had been living in the small, New York apartment complex for about 6 months. And you hadn't seen him till now. 

It was the same thing for the next couple of days, waking up at night to tell him he was being too loud or his music was making the wall shake. He always apologized, yet he never cared to change his volume before you went over to ask.

Ethan started doing it on purpose. He loved the way you looked when you had just rolled out of bed. It drove him crazy. Tired eyes with the prettiest sleepy voice. You would always wear a baggy teeshirt, no shorts underneath and just a blanket wrapped around you, bare legs.

You struggled to fall asleep, confused at the disappearance of the loud music you had been hearing for the past week. It felt strange but you shook it off, finally able to enjoy a full night's rest without any disruptions.

Or so you'd thought.

You groaned into your pillow as you heard a couple knocks on the door. It was a Friday, and you weren't expecting anyone to come over, especially not at 1 am. You dragged yourself out of bed, not caring about your slippers. You slipped out a yawn as you opened the door, this time Ethan at yours.

"Ethan...hey, what are you doing here?" You rubbed your eyes, the light from the hallway hurting them. "I got locked out of my apartment...I left my keys in class.." you frowned. "Oh no, did you call the landlord?" "He's in New Jersey?" his hands were in his sweats, small and worried frown on his face.

"Uhm, I guess you could stay with me for the night" his heart pumped out of his chest. That's exactly what he hoped you'd say. "Are you sure...? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything" You nodded. "Yea It's fine" you smiled, letting him inside. "Sorry to wake you up again" you shrugged. "Felt weird without your music anyways, I'm kinda getting used to it"

He put down his bag by the couch, watching you walk Into your bedroom to get blankets. He was more than excited. His plan had worked. He had his keys in his bag and had dressed in comfy clothes so he had no problem with having to change.

You plopped down the pile of blankets on the couch, tossing a pillow over to him. He watched as you laid out the blankets for him, placing the other pillow at the end of the couch. "Thanks" He smiled up at you. "No problem, if you want any snacks you can go in my pantry, Tara makes me stack up. And uh, there are drinks in the fridge"

"Thanks, for everything" "Stop thanking me, I'd want you to let me sleep over if I was locked out" you shrugged, turning around to go back to bed. "Night, Ethan" "Goodnight..."

But you weren't having a good night. Tossing in turning in your bed as you felt an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. Warmth gathered in your core and you rubbed your thighs against each other. You knew you couldn't do anything about it, especially not with a guest in the house.

But your pussy was hungry for touch, a pain filled you up. A pain that could only be relieved by touching yourself. You sighed with guilt as you stuck your hand into your panties, rubbing small circles against your sensitive bud. You bit your lip, holding back any small whimpers. You'd die before you'd let Ethan see you like this, yet again you probably wouldn't mind if he walked in on you.

Your movements got faster, a small sloppy moan coming from your mouth. You heard the couch creak, making you pause. "Y/n...you okay in there?" "I'm fine" you answered, melting into the mattress as you pulled out your hand. You were frustrated, almost close to your small orgasm. "You sure?" "I'm Good, Ethan" You heard his footsteps go back to where he originally was, putting your hand back into your panties.

This time you were careful not to make a noise. Only the sound of your wetness was barely heard under the sheets. Your mouth was deep into your pillow, shoving two of your fingers deep into your hole. Your walls tightened around your hand, dripping wet as you thrust your fingers into yourself.

Your mind was clouded, the feeling of your hand on your clit while the other was thrusting hard made you roll your eyes back. You were careful not to make any noise, a tie in your stomach forming. You were so so close, the possibility of getting caught turned you on even more.

What would Ethan think of you? That you're a slut? That you're gross? Or would he rip your legs open and help you out? You felt your legs shake as you pushed towards your orgasm. Frustrating and embarrassment filled you as you heard the door open. You couldn't care less though, you continued to fuck yourself as Ethan walked over.

"Y/n...what are you doing?" Ethan rubbed his eyes, staring at your position. "Oh..." he walked closer to the bed, your head still fucked out as you rubbed small circles against your clit. "You're so dirty..." a small scoff fell from his lips as he peeled the cover off of you, your hands covered in your juices.

"You're not very quiet Y/n" Every time he said your name you wanted to melt. It sounded so good rolling off his tongue. You continued to pump your fingers into yourself, biting your lip with your eyes closed as he watched. You felt so dirty, just like he said.

Your body heated up at his touch, his warm hand gripping your thigh. A whimper escaped your mouth as your movements slowed down, the tie in your stomach seconds away from snapping. "Don't stop, you can do it" his hands held onto your inner thigh, thumb gently rubbing on your skin.

"You look so pretty fucked out" his words shot straight to your core, legs shaking as you felt yourself release onto your fingers. "Wasn't that hard, was it?" Your chest raised with every breath you took, Ethan taking your cum covered fingers into his mouth.

Your breath hitched Ethan, staring into your eyes as he sucked your fingers, letting them out with a "pop" coming from his lips. You didn't think twice before you were on top of him, lips sucking with desperation as his hands ran up your shirt.

You knew this was wrong, but damn it felt so right. The way his hands perfectly grabbed your waist, lips fitting together like a puzzle. He let out a small groan as your knee slipped in between his legs. Feeling his hard boner on your skin.

You deepened the kiss, lowering yourself on top of him as you rubbed against his dick. He let out a small moan, your hands now pulling on the strings of his grey sweats.

"You're such a slut" You pulled away from the kiss, Ethan's lips on your neck. "Yet you're the one that was watching me" "And you're the one that kept going" you melted into him as he pressed down on your clit, still sensitive from earlier.

Your small, whiney sounds turned him on. Thrusting himself against your clit. "Don't be so desperate" you mumbled, your teeth sinking into his shoulder as he made friction. "I could say the same about you" he flipped the two of you over, pushing you up closer against the headboard.

He hovered over top of you, biting down on your lip as you looked up at him with eyes full of desire. You'd never looked as good as you did right there. "Can I go down on you?" You were slightly taken aback but nodded anyways. You had never had a guy ask you, you always had to ask them first. And they always insisted for something in return.

Ethan wasn't like that, he just wanted to pleasure you. Just getting to see your eyes roll back and your cum on his fingers would be enough for him.

He pampered small kisses against your jaw. They got sloppier as he moved down, marking you with his lips all the way to your waist. Ethan looked up at you with sweet eyes. He pulled down your panties, pulling apart your legs. You felt the cold air on your pussy, wetness covering your glistening core. You felt nervousness gather in your stomach, taking a deep breath.

He ran his fingers through your folds, jolting at the feel. You felt so vulnerable with him. He honestly had no idea what he was doing. He had seen it done once. Accidentally walking in on Chad and Tara one night. But besides that, absolutely clueless.

You sensed his confidence start to go down, taking small breaths. "You okay...?" "I uhm, yea...just not too sure how to do this" You just shook your head, smiling before sitting up. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to do anything" his face was soft, running your hand through his hair as he stared with his lips agape.

"No...no it's okay. I want to learn" "yea?" "Mhm," he chewed on his lip, staring back at you with doughy brown eyes. "Just do what feels right. And I'll tell you what feels good, alright?" He nodded, watching as you spread your legs open once again. He swore you were the prettiest person he'd ever seen. And to see you like this got him so flustered.

He ran his finger through your folds once again, collecting the extra cum from your hole. Your body shivered, craving more of his fingers on you. Your breath hitched as you felt his tongue flatten on your clit, biting back your lip as he stared at you.

"Keep going, good" he felt better as you praised him, doing tricks with his mouth on your pussy. His nails dug into the skin of your thighs, the pain proving you with more pleasure. Small whimpers and heavy breaths escaped from your mouth, Ethan lapping and sucking all over your core.

Your mind was cloudy, your back arching as you grabbed onto the bedsheets. "Please please please" Your hands dug into his hair, pushing his mouth closer to your pussy. His nose rubbed against your clit, his tongue deep in your hole. Your stomach pulsed, feeling hot all over your body.

"Fuck, E... I'm gonna cum" you hummed, feeling his fingers quicken on your sensitive clit. He hadn't even pushed his fingers into you and you were about to cum. The way he looked up at you made you moan, staring back through barely open eyes. Your legs wrapped tightly around his head, basically suffocating him with your thighs.

He pried your legs apart, shaking and weak as he continued to taste you. You tasted so sweet, the feeling of you on his tongue was addicting. He tried to rub himself against the bed, feeling the pain of his ignored boner get to him.

"Shit…shit" you bit back your bottom lip, body shaking as you felt cum drip from your pussy. Ethan's mouth was wide open, licking all of the cum up like your pussy was an ice cream cone. "Taste so good" You pushed his head away while he licked, too sensitive to continue.

He admired your sweaty face, watching as your chest rose with each heavy breath. "You okay...?" He asked, concerned. "Mhm," you hid your face in the pillow, Ethan coming back up to kiss you. "Was I okay?" You held back a smile, nodding at him.

Your lips connected once again, tasting yourself in his mouth. You got why he wanted more, pushing yourself closer to him. Heavy breaths filled the room, Ethan grabbing your waist before whispering something in your ear. “I didn’t actually…leave my keys” he chewed on his lip, watching as your eyebrows furrowed. “Really? Why’d you lie?” “For this”

You rolled your eyes before kissing him again, his cheeks a light pink as you pulled back. “Fucking creep” your lips formed into a smile, teasing him. “I’m not a creep” “You are, but you know what? It’s kinda hot”

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑒

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

story masterlist | next

Certain people are dealt a shittier hand in life than others, and unfortunately, you are one of those people.

Life has never been easy for you. As far back as you can remember, it's been one shitstorm after the other. Your parents are as good as dead to you, because all they ever did was make reckless choices and run away, leaving you to clean up their mess. That's how, at the young age of twenty, you've already got more debt than the average person could ever fathom.

Still, you make do. You hustle as best you can to get through one day and move on to the next. It's exhausting, and sometimes it feels like you're ready to give up, but against all odds, you persevere.

"That'll be 50 credits," the cashier says.

You let out a sigh and give her your card. Everything is so goddamn expensive these days. Even a simple grocery trip feels like a big slap in the face.

"Oh. Sorry," she blinks. "It's been declined. Do you have any other form of payment on hand?"

Shit. This one too?

You mumble an apology and dig through your wallet again. Thankfully, you happen to have enough cash to cover the cost. Just barely.

"Thank you for shopping with us," the cashier recites monotonously. She packs your groceries in a bag and hands it to you, then gestures for the next customer to step forward.

You leave the store the same as always, feeling worn-down and discouraged. You'll have to apply for a new card, but who knows when they'll send it to you. Goddammit. You're already scraping the bottom of the barrel as is. You hardly have enough emergency savings to last until then.

It's a shitty day, and unfortunately for you, it's about to get even worse.

"[Name]," a distinct, familiar voice mutters. You flinch at the sound, nearly dropping your grocery bag in the process. There's a man standing outside your apartment complex. A man that always makes your stomach crease in discomfort.

You instinctively step back. "I don't want any trouble, Johnny. Please, can I just get through?"

He ignores you and walks over, and while you stand there, stiff from fright, he peeks into your grocery bag and hums, visibly amused.

"Not exactly a lavish dinner," he chuckles. "But I guess you've got no choice but to be frugal, huh?"

"I just want to go home," you plead. "Please. Don't do this."

Alas, Johnny has never been one to give a shit about your circumstances, and today is no exception.

"I haven't been getting the money you promised me," he glares. "You've been late on your payments, and I'm really starting to lose my patience here."

You try to protest, but he wraps his hand around your throat and forcibly pins you against a wall. He isn't applying too much pressure, not yet, but the threat is there all the same.

"You owe me money, [Name]." His pupils constrict, a telltale sign that he's furious. "I'm done with your shitty excuses. If you can't make good on your promises, then you pay the price. This is the way the world works."

He holds you there, just so he can watch you whimper and cower in fear, then he eventually releases his hold on you and steps away.

"I'm giving you one more week," he says. "If you don't come up with the amount we agreed on in one week, I might seriously have to kill you. And don't even think of running away like your parents did. I'm sure as hell not gonna make the same mistake twice."

Johnny walks off with a steady, relaxed gait and his hands buried in his pockets. It's that easy for him. He can threaten an innocent woman and not think anything of it, the sick bastard.

You sniffle and resist the urge to cry. Fuck your parents. All they ever did was ruin your life. You have no idea where they're hiding right now, but for their own sake, they had better not show their faces around you ever again.

Still. There's no point in lamenting what can't be changed. Your parents are gone. It's up to you to remedy this situation and pay that disgusting loan shark back.

The question is, how?

How in the world will you pull that off? You barely make enough to eat two meals a day and cover your rent, let alone the steep cost of your debts.

It just seems like a lost cause. You've been working yourself to the bone, but you still can't even make a dent in what your parents owe. It's all too much to bear. It makes you want to forfeit your life entirely. At least then, you might finally be able to rest in peace.

Weighed down by the hopelessness of your situation, you trudge into your crappy studio apartment, chuck the groceries in the fridge, and plop down on the couch, defeated.

I guess it's time to look for another job. Something I can squeeze into my schedule. I can probably survive without sleeping a few days in a row, right?

You chuckle brokenly and scroll through your phone, looking for anything you might have a shot at. Finding a good job in this city is yet another hopeless dream for someone like you, who didn't go to college and doesn't have any other notable qualifications. All of your current jobs may as well be paying you dirt, which is why you can never meet Johnny's ridiculous demands.

You're just about to give up and go make yourself a rather pathetic dinner, when suddenly, something catches your eye.

[𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗠 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛]: 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱. 𝗦𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀-𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝘀.

Vampires. Not long ago, a law was passed, granting vampires access to the city. More and more of them seem to be moving here, the central hub of the country. Of course, most people felt uncomfortable with this change, but it seems to be a necessary step in fighting back against years of discrimination. Humans naturally fear vampires, and the government is doing everything it can to integrate them into society.

Since drinking blood by force is considered a crime, this program is most likely a way for vampires to obtain their blood safely and without any consequence, just so long as people are willing to sign up for it.

You take a moment to assess your situation. You have almost no money to your name, and there's a greedy loan shark that's just itching to torture you if you fail to pay him back in time. If you don't get some money, and fast, you're probably headed for the afterlife.

That being said, you've never encountered a vampire before. You've heard all sorts of horror stories about them. That they're physically stronger than humans, have more acute senses, and could easily bludgeon you to death if they wanted to.

But even if that's actually true, how is it any different than what Johnny will do to you if you don't pay him back?

You press your lips together. Perhaps there's no harm in trying at least once and seeing how it'll go. It's not like you're guaranteed to get accepted for the program anyways. And besides, this is being implemented by the government, so surely, they won't allow any humans to come to harm in the process.

Above all else, you are incredibly desperate, with very little to lose.

So, you decide to take a gamble.

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬 [𝗫]?

...

Your luck might finally be changing for the better, or maybe they're just desperate for applicants, but either way, you got the job.

It was a bit tedious. The screening process was rather lengthy, and they made you do quite a few medical tests to ensure you didn't have any infectious diseases or anything like that. You suppose having a clean bill of health is the one thing required for this position, considering you'll be giving your blood to someone else. Thankfully, even though your life is shit, you've always been rather sturdy, which is the only reason you've lasted this long.

You're currently walking through a glossy white corridor. The building you're in is polished and sleek, some kind of medical company that's been researching vampires for quite a long time. They call themselves Plasma Inc., which is a bit tacky, but you're certainly in no position to judge.

The doctor escorting you holds a clipboard against his chest, and glances over at you every so often.

"We're almost there," he says. After a brief pause, he adds, "There's no need to be nervous."

Honestly, you're a little nervous, but only because you've never done this before. Giving your blood to a vampire... it all sounds so farfetched. You really didn't think this was something you'd ever be doing.

But beggars can't afford to be choosers.

"For the client's privacy and peace of mind, there aren't any cameras inside the room. We will not be able to see or hear anything that happens in there. You signed the confidentiality clause, so please keep in mind that you will be liable for any private information that you happen to disclose."

You knew as much going into this. There's no point in psyching yourself out. Everything's going to be fine. This is all perfectly safe.

...it should be, at least.

"Whenever you're ready," the doctor says. He's stopped in front of a door, and you instinctively gulp as you imagine what—or rather, who—is on the other side.

Okay, then. No reason to back out now. You chose this. It's a desperate measure, and sure, you'll lose a bit of blood in the process, but if it helps you pay off your debt and get back on your feet, then it's easily worth it.

"I'm ready," you say.

The doctor nods briefly, offers you an encouraging smile, then opens the door.

It closes behind you right away, and your eyes instinctively search the room until they land on a motionless, seated figure.

It's a man. Well, a vampire, but still a man. Deep down, you'd been hoping that it might be a woman. A man seems somewhat more intimidating, although you suppose all vampires are stronger than humans, so it wouldn't have made a difference either way.

He's beautiful, though. Vampires are scarce in numbers, and they don't usually go out during the day, so it's unlikely that you would have ever passed by one. But you've only ever heard people speak of them in frightening terms. Never in a million years did you imagine they'd be so utterly gorgeous. Or perhaps this particular vampire is simply an exception.

You don't quite realize how much time you've spent fawning over his appearance until he suddenly stands up.

Instinctively, you flinch, and it's clear that it doesn't go unnoticed.

He narrows his eyes. "If you're not comfortable doing this, you're welcome to leave. I was told that the humans who signed up for this program were all completely willing. I have no intention of taking your blood without your full cooperation."

"Oh. S-Sorry," you stammer. "I'm not uncomfortable. I guess I'm just a little bit starstruck. It's my first time meeting a vampire."

"There's no need to gawk at me. I'm not some animal trapped inside a cage."

He has a rather harsh tongue, but again, you're in no position to judge. Perhaps your reaction offended him, unintentional as it may have been.

"Sorry," you say again, then you offer him a weak smile. "Um... I'm [Name]. I'm not really sure what the etiquette for this sort of thing is, but it's nice to meet you."

It takes him a while to respond. He studies you quietly with those mesmerizing eyes of his, and the silence is awkward, to say the least.

"I'm Xavier," he finally replies. He frowns a bit. "But I didn't come here to chat. If you're ready, I'll like to move on with this as soon as possible."

Right. He's here for the same reason you are. It's not an opportunity for the two of you to exchange pleasantries.

You're here to sell your blood, and he's here to drink it.

"Okay," you swallow. Now that it's come down to it, you can feel your heart beating faster by the second. But this is fine. This is nothing. Compared to all the shit you've already been through, this may as well be a walk in the park.

You walk over to him, taking slow, careful steps, then you sit down in one of the chairs. He does the same, staring at you without blinking the whole time. You watch as he shuffles a bit closer, and he uses his fingers to pull down the collar of your shirt slightly. You shiver at the sensation of his skin brushing against yours. God, his hands are cold.

Xavier stares right into your eyes. "This is your last chance to back out. If you tell me to stop now, I will, but otherwise, I'll take it that you've agreed to move on."

"I'm fine," you reassure. Despite the fact that your stomach is a bundle of nerves right now, you're determined to press on. You need this. There's simply no other option.

You'll do whatever it takes to live on, even if it means selling the very essence that grants you life in the first place.

"Okay," Xavier says, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His jaw unhinges, and the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut is the pearly-white color of his bright, glistening fangs.

He bites into your neck.  

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[skzstannie]

"Just Breathe"

SKZ -> Minho x GN!reader

genre: exes to ??, hurt/comfort, angsty wc: ~1,200 cw: brief descriptions of a panic attack, reader has claustrophobia but it's not directly mentioned

summary: After a nasty breakup, you're hoping to never see Minho again. However, when your stuck in an uncomfortable situation, Minho is right by your side yet again.

A/N: Well hello again! It's been forever, so I thank you for being so patient. School has been stressful as ever (I'm actually procrastinating as I write this), but I wanted to get something out to you guys even if it's short and kinda shitty (but oh well). I have a few requests, and once school eases up, I'll get right on them! Just want to make sure they're good quality.

Not proofread (oops)

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"What I wouldn't give to live in a different apartment complex right now," you sigh, standing as you wait for the elevator.

The elevators have had a vendetta against you all week, and you've been trying to not let it get to you, but after waiting for the fifth minute with no luck, your patience starts to run a little thin.

Taking the stairs is always an option, however, you live on the 15th floor, and 30 flights of stairs is certainly not for the weak. You would know, as yesterday you took the alternative route. It left you a sweaty mess with sore limbs and blisters on the back of your heels, something you're not looking to experience on the daily.

Finally, the elevator dings, signaling it's arrival, and you pick your bag up from the floor. A load of people step out the elevator, explaining why it took so long to arrive. You step in, turning to press your floor. The doors begin to close, but a hand sticks itself in to the gap before they close all the way. Your eyes narrow at the person before they're even in your view, upset that you're once again behind held up.

All you want is to go upstairs and lay on your couch to take a nap.

What sliver of patience you had left in you quickly diminishes once you see who has stopped the elevator.

Lee freaking Minho, your ex. Things didn't exactly end well between the two of you. There were multiple accusations of cheating going around about the both of you, and neither of you were putting enough trust in the other person. He thought he was the one to end it, and you thought you were the one to end it- so things didn't end on a very concise note. Not that you were complaining; after the blowout fight you two had, you were hoping to never see him again. This was unlikely though, as he lived in the same apartment complex as you.

His eyes widen upon seeing your agitated stance, and he scoffs when you roll your eyes. You hope for a moment he'll just turn around and walk out upon seeing you, but your heat drops when he doesn't. In fact, he has the audacity to even ask you to press his floor.

"17, please," he smirks at you, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

"What, you can't reach over there yourself?"

"No can do sweetheart, you know I'm not one for unnecessary movements," he snaps back, leaning back against the cool elevator wall.

You scowl at him before relenting, reaching over to press his floor for him.

It's silent for a moment, and you relish in the peace of not having to hear him run his mouth. All good things must come to an end, unfortunately.

"You know, if you keep scowling like that it might stick forever," he comments, crossing his arms over his chest. You once might've fawned at the way his shirt tightens around his chest and arms, but the only emotion you feel now is annoyance.

"I'm sure you know from experience, right?" you shoot back, keeping your head facing forward as to not give him any satisfaction.

Just try to ignore him.

You can see out of your periphery how he rolls his eyes, pulling his phone out of his back pocket to busy himself.

You breath a little easier upon seeing he's going to leave you alone now, and you bring yourself to watch the different floors pass as the elevator goes up.

You watch as you hit floor 10, then suddenly the elevator jerks to a stop. You stumble a bit, not expecting the jolt. The number disappears, and the elevator, once lit with the overhead light, turns pitch black.

Your breathing immediately picks up, and you crouch on the floor to try and ground yourself.

"Y/N?" Minho says, his voice shaky and apprehensive.

"Shut up," you tell him, focusing on trying not to hyperventilate.

"It'll be fine," he says, trying to reassure both you and him, "I'll just press the emergency button, and hopefully they'll have it up and running again soon."

You don't respond. You bring your hands up into your hair, subconsciously tugging at the strands roughly. You squeeze your eyes tightly, anything to distract from the panic bubbling up through your chest.

You feel a hand rest gently on your back, but you immediately push it away. as if it's burned you. Minho's brought out his flashlight from his phone, illuminating the elevator in a soft glow.

"Don't touch me," you rasp out, falling back onto your bottom. You bring your knees up to your chest, burying your head between them.

"You need to calm down, you're going to give yourself a panic attack."

While you'd love to scream at him, tell him that he's not allowed to comfort you anymore. That he's not allowed to tell you what to anymore. That he had his chance to be a good boyfriend, but he threw it away.

You wish you could tell him all those things. Scream in his face, tell him how badly he'd hurt you. He'd hurt you bot only by accusing you of cheating on him, but also with hanging out with your ex-best friend, someone he knew had hurt you very badly in the past, enough for you to cut all ties with her.

While this is what you wanted to do, you know your body needed something different.

Throughout your relationship, Minho was your rock. Through thick and thin, he'd always been there for you. Every accomplishment, every set back. Every celebration, and, in turn, every panic attack. Unfortunately, the latter happened more frequently than you'd like to admit, and he'd gotten quite good over the years at comforting you through them.

So, deciding to listen to what you knew your body needed, you gave in.

"Please just hold me," it came out as a whisper, but Minho had no problem hearing you over the silence encompassing the elevator.

While you were having your own internal battle, Minho was also contemplating his options.

He knew if he held you, if he comforted you, all those emotions he'd suppressed for the last few months would resurface. He'd worked so hard to get his life back on track, all for you to inadvertently ask him to throw it all away.

In his heart, he knew what he needed to do. It was the just the two of you in this elevator, and he'd be a monster to tell you no, especially since he knew what would happen if he did.

So, with that, he quickly dropped down onto the floor. He wrapped his strong arms around you, and immediately you felt the panic begin to subside. It was amazing what this presence could do to your fragile mind in times like these; it never failed to amaze you.

You leaned your head against his chest, taking slow and deliberate breaths to try and slow your heartrate down.

"That's it. You're ok, we'll get out of here. Just breathe." He let his arms tighten around you, and he realizes just how much he missed having you in his arms. How natural it felt for him to comfort you in this way.

"I'll get you out of here."

[ryomens-vixen]

Tomura's Blk Girlfriend

Cw: monster cock shiggy, daddy kink, degrading (slut,) praise (sweetheart, baby), spanking, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, belly bulging, spit swallowing(reader), lowkey god complex shiggy, creampie

Word count: 2.4k 🎉🥳 Yippie you get a wc.

Authors notes: You can read this if you want to this was completely self Indulgence, good luck 💕 and reblogs are welcomed

You were the baddest bitch walking, hard to come by, hard to get with, and especially hard to please. Nobody would have guessed you'd have a loser boyfriend like Tomura Shigaraki. A loser boyfriend that does nothing but stream on twitch, drinks monster energy drinks, literally forgets to bathe unless it's with you, amazing dick game, hates going out but will do just about anything to please his goddess, his player 2, his Queen, the love of his life.

You were like a fantasy in front of him. Tomura didn't really understand fully how on earth he bagged you, even his homeboy Dabi hadn't a clue as to how it happened. One day Dabi and the gang decided to drag Tomura out of his shitty apartment, really it was Toga's idea of everyone hanging out at the mall. They even had an arcade so Tomura HAD to come with them and they didn't give him a choice at all.

It all started when they were hanging out at the arcade Tomura was trying to make up his mind as to what game he wanted to play first while Toga dragged Twice and Dabi around to different stores to look at “cute” stuff, Spinner, Mr.Compress and Big sis Magne had also split off to the food court leaving Tomura to himself where he just so happened to catch a glimpse of you struggling at a stupid claw machine. Those things were a big scam anyways , but you desperately wanted this cute ass hello kitty plushie for your collection and you just had to have it.

Just watching you fail time after time irked his nervous you either didn't know what the fuck you were doing or you just sucked ass at crane games, so he dug into his red trench coat for his wallet. This was your sixth time failing to get this damn plushie before tomura jumped in front of you with some money of his own.

“Hey! I was-”

“Oh Shut up and watch a pro at work.”

And you did exactly that, shut up. Watching him go for the same plushie you wanted. you were lost in thought for a moment thinking about if you couldn't get it, then what made him think he could. That was until she heard the machine's winner alarm go off bringing you back to reality.

“Do you want it or not lady?!” You had such a confused look on your face when you took it from him.

“How did you…”

“Pfft- Come on it was fuckin easy, you just suck at it.”

Looking past his rough, patchy looking skin he was actually fine as hell. But you really liked the look of his sharp piercing red eyes god he was so mean looking… and he had a bit of a mouth on him too. Meanwhile, When Tomura got a good look at you he was silently in awe from your glistening melanin skin, those kinky tight curls, the luscious curves of your body, yeah he was definitely checking you out, but thought to himself how you're way out of his league you'd never date someone like him, a loser.

“Aye... You- kinda cute, what's your name?”

“HUH!?” He was so stunned. A girl? Thinking he was cute? Attractive? Him!? You'd be the death of him. He nervously started scratching at the skin of his neck.

“You're joking right? Did Dabi set you up to this? I'll fuckin kill him-”

“No, no, wait who the fuck is Dabi? Actually, just chill babes I'm talkin to you?”

“I- hmph, why do you want to know my name?”

“Uh, so I can get to know my future boyfriend, but that's cool if your-”

“Tomura! Tomura Shigaraki and uh.. What's yours?”

Hm. Got em. “It's Y/N, but you can call me whatever you want, baby.” God it was like you were seducing him with just your tone, and voice he couldn't stand, but he had to have you whether you were joking with him or not, you were his from the get go.

Damn his heart was pounding out of his chest just from these silly pet names you were already giving him.

Tomura looked around to see if there were cameras anywhere, maybe he was getting punk'd- god he hated that show. Or maybe you were actually dead serious and he just didn't believe it because the only thing he's ever touched was his dick and bottle of some shitty off brand lotion that he never uses.

“So can I get your number, Cutie?”

“My Number?! Cutie?! No really are you for real right now this isn't some joke?! ”

Fast forward you've been with your loser boyfriend for about five years and counting. He's been so good to you despite him coming off mean as hell all the time it was something you had gotten use to, but also slowly learned he means well that's just how Tomura was and He has also learned to be a little more kind and gentle towards you, since you treat him so well after all. Washing and braiding his messy white hair, although his skin was never a problem to you- he couldn't help his skin condition leaving him with those damn wrinkles around his eyes, chapped and uneven lips, dry irritated flaky skin, but you wanted to help him as long as he let you. Oh how he loved the way you took care of him and his skin, buying him all kinds of skin care products for sensitive skin and eczema creams, you loved taking care of your man.

In return he took care of your every single need. You needed more hair products? Makeup? Clothes? Somebody dead? Sex? He'd do anything to please his Queen. Because of you he actually gets out a little more taking you out on dates, buying you whatever you like and he cleans up nicely just for you. he loved spending time with you the most whether you're watching him stream online, playing with him, listening to him argue with his viewers over you, helping you style and wash your hair, fucking like rabbits he loved every bit of it.

But boy did y'all have the best time in bed. Sex with Tomura was so good, you almost didn't believe he was a virgin the first time you two fucked and he was so big he had a damn third leg. It felt like he was splitting you in half on it there was just so much, but he was making you take that dick, everytime you two fucked he'd make you take all of it.

You especially loved it when he and the league of villains got pressed on COD and ended up losing.

“Damn it! Toga I told you to pick me up!”

“You were on the other side of the map I was trying, Twice was supposed to cover me!”

“Don't get your panties in a bunch, we'll get em next time.” Dabi took his headset off immediately.

“They cheated! I got domed by a camper, Toga!” Twice begged.

Big sis magne tried to be the one encouraging the group “Will get em next time boss!”

“I don't want a fucking next time, I want results, Fuck!” You knew he was angry when he threw off his headset. You were drooling from both your mouth and coochie definitely can't wait for the pounding you were going to receive as soon as he came in the room.

“Strip, now.” Instead of scratching at his neck he found a new way to relieve his stress, You.

Hell he really didn't have to tell you twice or at all really, but silly you not stripping before he ever opened his mouth.

“Yes, Sir.” you were trained well, just for him you couldn't wait to take his monster cock, all those delicious 12 inches.

You hoped he'd his sweatshirt on this time, the smell of his gamer boy musk turned you on little did he know.

“That's right, on your knees, I want you ass up, Slut.” And a slut you were after stripping your night clothes, you proceeded to do exactly what daddy said face down ass up just for him.

Tomura made his way over to you, getting a good look at that ass he loved so much, massaging your cheeks with his rough hands. Gripping, spreading your cheeks apart.. slapping. He was doing too much teasing to be this angry, you wanted him right now, but who were you to open your mouth and complain?

“Fuck…look at that. “ he said under his breath.

Tomura was staring at how drenched your pussy was for him already and he hasn't even fucked you yet.

He just couldn't get enough of you, watching you tease him by waving your pussy at him like waving a bone in front of a dog got him going.

He was in a hurry getting his dingy old sweats off not wanting to keep waiting any longer.

Tomura took his cock in one hand, rubbing the head in the slick of your pussy, letting out a satisfied groan once he shoved the head into your tight hole letting out a hiss as he pushed half of his cock in since that's all your pussy could take.

“Mmm, So big daddy..” You groaned and gasped as he started to move.

He groaned at her words, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over him. Her tightness and the way she gasped only heightened his desire for her.

"You feel so good, sweetheart." he said, his voice rough and strained. "So perfect and tight. Fuck I could stay like this forever.”

Tomura's pace started to pick up the more he continued to admire your body, those bumps, and curves, stretch marks, the cellulite, the way your ass jiggled at each thrust he made, god he was drunk off of you. You were his stress relief at the end of the day and he wouldn't have it any other way.

“Don't whine now, you can take some more, come on take this dick.” He was damn near pounding into you, he took a handful of hair and yanked you up onto your knees without your back against his chest. Taking the same hand he put his arm around your throat and his other around your waist.

You loved it when he was this rough, it was so good you couldn't help, but to meet him thrusts, you desperately tried to keep up with his pace.

A smirk spread across Tomura’s face as he whispered in your ear in a rough and ragged tone “ uh huh, yeah throw that ass back on me, baby.” He stopped his thrusts so focus on feeling you use his cock to fuck yourself.

With the same arm around your waist he took his hand, gliding it down your belly to feel the bulge that his cock was leaving in you. “You feel me right here don't you, slut? Fuck, I'm gonna cum all on your insides, you deserve it don't you? Don't you baby? Yeah, Keep fucking yourself on my cock!”

“To- Tomura- Fuuuuck”

Unable to take the boring pace you were going at, Tomura shoved your face back into the mattress, pushed down on the arch of your back and continued at his brutal pace he had from earlier. The room was filled with the sounds of skin smacking against one another, moans and raspy groans coming from the two of you.

By this point you were a crying and moaning mess even a white ring was forming around his cock.

Tomura flipped you into your back he wanted to see that pretty little face you make when your cumming from his cock, he loved the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head to the way you swallowed his spit when he spat in your mouth, he loved the way you begged for air every time he choked grabbing at his wrist as tight as you could.

Once his thrusts started getting a bit sloppy that's when you could tell he was close, and he could definitely tell you were close the way your pussy tightened around his cock.

He could feel himself getting even closer, the orgasm building up inside him like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His moans are getting more ragged by the minute, Your stiletto nails digging small dents in his skin as you could feel yourself getting close to a climax.

“God! Fu—”

“That's right baby I am your fucking God, keep screaming my name while your at it.”

He groaned at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin, the pleasurable pain adding to the intensity of the moment. And the sound of you screaming his name sent him over the edge with one last thrust he came deep inside you and so did you. Tomura pulled his cock out leaving you shaking and quivering while he tried to catch his breath while taking in your expression you had from being so full of him to so empty you could almost pout.

But as much as he would love to give you more he had a stream to get back to so he gave you a quick kiss before whispering “Now you're a good little slut I'll give you some more cock when I'm done, until then you better not let a drop of my cum waste from that sweet pussy of yours, got it?”

All you could do was pout and nod, yeah it was a bit unfair, but he promised to give you more later, right? Knowing him, that'd be 2 hrs from now. But there was no use in complaining he was already back on stream before you could even make a complaint.

“So what you're telling me is that you guys can't do SHIT without me?”

“They called for an airstrike boss, what did you want us to do?!” Twice complained.

“Well as far as I'm concerned Compress and I carried the team.” Big Sis Magne exclaimed.

“And what about Dabi?”

“He kinda rage quit…” Mr.Compress said lightly.

“Wait Boss, before you get upset I did a good job picking up mostly everyone.. By Everyone I mean Dabi.”

“So not only do I hate him, he sucks dick at COD too Great.”

"Tomura you can't hate Dabi forever!"

"See that's where you're wrong Toga, see if you would let me show, I could take this to the next leave."

"But I heard that's not healthy for you." Toga pouted, worried about the health of her boss.

"Toga I have microplastics in my dick- I'll be fine.”

Tags: @littlemochabunni @blkkizzat @arlerts-angel @ramonathinks @nkogneatho @tonycries @connorsui @honeeslust @halosdiary @hoshigaby @screampied @rinhaler @buttercupblu @triangularz @fairy-hub

[taylormarieee]

Drunkenly Yours Drew Starkey

Summary: You and Drew go out and you get drunk and he confesses...

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: None, Just pure fluff, Mentions of Alcohol, Slightly Sober Drew, Drunk reader, Confessions, Kissing, Sweet ending.

A/N: This is a second fic dedicated to @ribbonprincess for her birthday! shhhh i'm a lil behind but love you beautiful<333

BIRTHDAY FIC 2/2

You and your cast members went out for drinks tonight. You are celebrating because you just finished filming season 3. You played as Rafe's love interest and supposed savior.

You got really close with Drew more than anything given the amount of scenes you guys had together. Granted you grew close with everyone on the cast, Drew was your favorite but of course you would never admit that.

You guys went to a little mini bar by your apartment complex that you all lived in, (Seperate floors and rooms of course) and you guys got all dressed up.

You were met by some paparazzi and some fans on the way out of your hotel but you guys didn't mind as you guys weren't in any rush. You all took pictures and posed and even signed things if asked.

Once that was over you all got into the car and drove away. You guys listened to music and jammed the whole way there.

Once you guys arrived at your destination, you are so excited yet nervous at the same time.

You loved going out but it was always hard especially when the love of your life was always going to be there and always suggesting to go out.

"Drew! Put me down!" you scream out while laughing as your conversation with Madelyn about something was interrupted.

"Nope, no can do peaches, gotta make sure you don't get your princess shoes dirty." Drew whispered in your ear.

You nervously giggled holding on to him tighter. He holds you in his(Big, handsome, strong and sexy) arms for a little longer while Chase confirms the reservation for tonight.

Once you guys were in, Drew finally put's you down. "M'lady." he says as he bows in front of you to let you walk first. "Hm. Thank you kind sir." You say in the best british accent you can muster up.

He chuckles and you giggle as you walk closer to Chase and put your arms around Chase.

"Hey bunny." He says to you wrapping his hands around your waist and furrowing up your hair.

"Heyyy! I told you not to call me that anymore Chase!" you say puffing your bottom lip out and stomping your foot down.

"Ok fine, then should I call you thumper? You do know how much you act like a bunny right?" He says laughing.

You punch his arm and sit down in the booth that the waitress guided you guys too.

Your in front of Chase but next to you is Drew. You look up at him and admire him as he sits down and takes his order.

The waitress is going down the line of your cast mates before she finally get's to you.

You give her your order which is the same as Madelyn's. She was your best friend, you could talk to her about anything. She was like a sister to you.

She was the only one out of the entire cast that knew you liked Drew. You didn't exactly tell her she kind of figured it out on her own.

She was a bit of an observer and she would watch how much chemistry (as she likes to call it) you and Drew had on certain scenes, or just being together in general.

You loved Drew, you could say it a million times and it would never sound like a lie.

Drew was the best person in your life right now. Yes, you had Maddy but there was something about Drew that just made everyday a better day when you were with him. Everyday was never dull when you were with Drew. It was filled with happiness and fun.

"Alright guys. I don't know about yall but i'm trying to get hella wasted." You say and everyone starts laughing and aggreeing.

"Wait but someone needs to stay sober to get us all home." Madison says.

"1 2 3! NOT IT!" Everyone except Drew says. "You guys are doing this like i'm not the one that drove you all here in the first place." He says chuckling at everyones childish behaviour.

"Drinks on me?!" You yell going up to the bar while you guys are waiting on the food.

"Bet!" Jonathan and Rudy say at the same time before bursting out laughing. You laugh and scoot out of the booth after Drew gets up.

"Hey I'll come with you, can't hold all those drinks yourself girl." Madelyn says.

You smile at her as you both walk away to the bar to get 12 shots of tequila.

'So, when are you gonna tell him?" Madelyn asks. Your head immediately spins towards her and your eyes are wide.

"Uhmm ha, real funny Mads, i'm not doing that." You say turning back to all the dancing people.

"But this could be your only chance to tell him!" Madelyn says. You look back at her.

"Oh really, and how do you suppose I actually grow the balls to do it. Plus, this is supposed to be a fun, calm night with all of us together. Celebrating season 3 of Outer Banks. I don't wanna embarrass myself on this wonderful night in front of everyone." You say to her before the waiter comes around with your drinks.

"Hey, can we also get some beers please and thank you!" Madelyn says to prolong this conversation. The waiter nods and smiles at you both.

"But, what if I made a plan? Created like a diversion maybe? Like idk invite evryone to dance but then you keep Drew waiting and then you guys talk for a bit." She suggests with a smile on her face.

"Yea that could work, but you know how much drew loves to dance." You say already taking a shot or two.

It's as if a lightbulb appeared over Maddy's head the way her face lit up. "What if, you get so wasted that you confess to him. I'll still let everyone go dance once we get enough shots in us and then you can confess to him." She says taking two shots with you as well.

You face screws up but before you can say anything Madelyn speaks, "Yea that decision is final." She says with a smile on her face before bringing the shots towards the table.

You smirk and shake your head before grabbing the beers that the waiter passed towards you.

When you make it back to the table people are already taking shots and interacting. Everyone seems a lot more loose now and more livid.

"WHO WANTS BEER!" You yell over the music so they can hear you. They cheer and so does the crowd, but there cheering for a different reason.

You pass out some beers to everyone and then chug down some shots.

Your a lot more loose now that your tipsy and you feel like doing something spontaneous.

You walk over to the bar and stand on the table with the permission of the waiter and he helps you up since your in high heel black boots.

"I have an announcement to make my fellow partyers! ALL DRINKS ARE ON MEE!!!" You yell out and everyone starts cheering and you pop open a bottle of champagne filling everyone's cups.

You ask the waiter for a couple beers and tell him that everything is gonna be on your tab. He smiles at you and nods.

You hand beers to people in the crowd and your taking more shots. Your turnt now. Dancing on the table still and then hoping down to dance in the crowd.

Your dancing when you feel a hard chest behind you and hands on your hips. You don't even look to see who it is and you start grinfing and dancing on them with a shot glass in your hand.

You dance on this perosn for about five minutes before you turn around and put your arms around there neck. You open your eyes and realize it's Drew.

Your eyes widen and you lightly push off him muterring a sorry.

"Your hype aren't you?" He asks with a smirk on his face. Your face is hot now and you can't control the smile that appears o your face.

"Even though your drunk you still look so adorable." He says putting his hands back on your hips and bringignyou closer to him.

Drew has been teasing you like this all night. You just wanted to tell him how you feel. You wanted to say it so badly that your throat was burning and not just from the alcohol.

"Hey Drew!?" You say his name so lovely that he melts. "Yes princess?" He replies.

"I'm in love with you. I've loved you for a while now and I just never had the courage to say it. I know i'm like really fucking drunk right now but I'm so in love with you it makes my heart hurt! Everytime I see you I get butterflies in my stomach. I love you Drew Starkey, I always have." You say dancing slowly with him.

He stares at you with a goofy lopsided smile on his face.

"Hey, I'm still sober but i'm a bit tipsy and I heard everything you said and my input on that is I love you too. Not platonically but romantically. I've thought about you all the time. It was like love at first sight. I fell in love with you from day 1 and I wanna be the one that is in your life forever. Will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my girlfriend?" He confesses.

You smile so much that your cheeks hurt. You feel like crying! You shake your head yes and grab his face and kiss him. You kiss him so hard he's stumbling back a bit but he catches himself.

He slips his tongue between your lips and you both kiss passionately on the dance floor.

You hear cheering behind you and you see Chase and Madelyn and the rest of the cast cheering for you and Drew.

Some others who are most likely fans are recording the moment as well.

Today was a good night. You finally got your prince and you were going to make sure you guys had your happily ever after...

Taglist: (?)

[andy-wm]

I’ve just been listening to a podcast about the fabric of reality, and came on here for a bit of downtime. And lo and behold, you’re talking about reality and time passing, and that’s exactly it.

No matter what we think, no matter what we say, or theorise or claim, we don’t alter the truth, and that stands for everything that doesn’t pertain to us.l and our own lives.

I can think the earth is flat till the cows come home (I don’t, obviously) but that doesn’t alter reality. 

Same goes for Jimin and JKs relationship. I’ve seen people claim wild theories, bending and stretching to reach conclusions far outweighing a k drama or blockbuster movie, whereas I personally, think mundanely and simply, that they are together. 

Whose right? We don’t know. 

That’s the truth. We don’t know. 

We may never know, we may find out one day?. 

I’m saying this with a smile on my face because that’s the beauty of life right, as long as we are not harming others, or coming into others spaces and shouting. As long as we aren’t being disrespectful to others, and to Jikooks bond. 

I will say this though, an actual truth people seem to forget or quickly dismiss across the fandom as a whole, is that those men chose to enlist together and whatever we may think of their relationship that is what happened and we should do well to remember that. 

Hey Anon, that's what i call serendipity.

And I love this ask, thank you!

I absolutely agree, what we know - or think we know - has no impact on what truly is.

Even when we believe we know all there is to know, new discoveries and new understanding mean - hopefully - we're constantly learning and reassessing.

When it comes to Jikook, Occam's razor is my go-to: the simplest explanation is, in fact, usually the best. We don't need convoluted plots and schemes and conspiracy theories. There's enough information staring us in the face.

Sometimes we need to untangle that information - I'm not saying we should accept everything on face value - and we do have to look out for new information so we can adjust our understanding.

But that is the case with everything on earth. There is no static knowledge.

These things add layers of richness and complexity but they don't change the basic premise of our underatanding.

That understanding, for me, is that these two humans love each other.

As you say, there ARE things we definitely know, like their companion enlistment.

Like the fact that Jimin chose to have JK with him - next to him - when he talked about his depression on Beyond The Star.

We know Jimin flew 28 hours so he could spend 3 days with JK in NY and Connecticut.

We know that JK was ready to crack Yoongi on the head with a frypan when he though Jimin might have been hurt (by a 5g shuttlecock).

We know that JK never harms Jimin - in all the games and jokes they play, he never targets Jimin (spraying his butt with a watergun is not targeting him, before anyone gets huffy. That did Jimin no harm at all.)

We know that Jimin worried over how hard JK was working.

We know JK begged Jimin shamelessly in front of millions of people, to do a weverse live together.

We know JK watched and hyped all Jimin's footage when he was promoting FACE.

We know they jumped into the comments of one another's livestreams several times last year.

We know all these things, but imagine what we don't know.

There's so much we have no idea about.

Hours and hours of footage that never reaches our screens. Months of time they spend together or alone or with family or friends. That's as it should be - their their private lives are just that - private.

Yes, I have a lot of fun picking apart the little glimpses we get into their lives because i enjoy their dynamic so much and because I'm naturally curious (okay, yes, I'm nosy 🤣).

I look deeper not because I'm hunting for lies or flaws, but because these two delight me. Sure I speculate, but i don't purport to know what they are to each other or where their boundaries lie. And I'm happy not to know. Some things are none of my business.

Like you, Anon, I accept that i may never know the true nature of their relationship, and I'm quite okay with that.

In the end what does it matter?

Whatever they are to each other, they're happy, and honestly what more is there to life than love and happiness?

💜💛

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x GP!Beefy!Superpowered!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4408

Requested by 🍬 anon: I'm back indeed😌and I have a request to make, could you write R adopting a superdog and surprising Nat with it? Like the dog somehow saves R and they have no choice but to keep them and take care of it😌

*slides $20 under the table* could the dog be a corgi who is an absolute menace to all the avengers?

-🍬

AN: Corgis are very special to me, so of course I will write this. 🥺Also, I threw in a smut scene, because this is not a Dirty Vulture fic without it.

No pronouns used.

“I still don’t really know what the point of me being in one of these is,” you say, rapping your knuckles on the metal wall of the van currently transporting you and your team to the apartment complex you’ve been sent to overturn. SHIELD had spent the last three months scoping out HYDRA activities from the entire building and they now had enough intel to send in the strike team: you, Natasha, Steve, and Clint.  

“Because we go in together,” Steve says, the ever optimistic leader of the pack. 

“Right.” You nod, cracking your knuckles through the padding of your gloves, a nervous habit you have before any mission. While this one was relatively simple (and you got to do it with Natasha, which for the longest time had been strictly forbidden by Fury after what happened in Budapest), you were still aware of the risks and dangers that came with the job.

Natasha’s hand rests lightly on your thigh and you look at her. She smiles softly at you, not saying anything, but you know exactly what she’s trying to communicate. 

Both of you will be okay.

You put your hand over hers and squeeze it. The van finally comes to a stop and the four of you pile out, standing on the empty, dark street. It’s well past midnight so there are few cars or people out. This kind of peace is rare in New York, but you’re also in one of the rougher neighborhoods, where people try to honor curfew for their own safety.

“Everyone ready?” Steve asks, strapping his shield to his arm.

“Hold on,” Natasha says, stepping up to you and cupping her hand around the back of your neck to pull you down to her level, kissing you with a passion that is usually reserved for the bedroom. She slips her tongue into your mouth as her hold on your neck tightens so you can’t pull away.

Steve and Clint stand there blinking at the two of you, Steve shocked by the public display of affection (as if he’s never witnessed it before), and Clint annoyed that this is the kind of thing he has to deal with more than he cares to.

Natasha finally pulls away and looks up at you, smiling when she sees a smudge of her lipstick on your lower lip. 

“Be safe, babe. I’ll see you in a bit,” you say, stepping back from Natasha. You give Clint a bracing nod, and Steve a glare that can be interpreted as “You better watch my girl or else.” You close your eyes and picture the apartment on floor 2 that SHIELD showed you a model of ahead of time. By now, you’ve perfected your technique, but it’s still not the most enjoyable experience. There is a pressure around your entire body, almost like you’re surrounded by a tide of water, crushing you from every angle until you can’t take the pressure anymore and you explode.

Literally.

You disappear from your spot on the street in a cloud of white smoke, feeling like your body is being pushed through a tube before you expand to your full size again in the same empty apartment you had pictured. 

No matter how many times you teleported, it never seemed to get easier.

You shake out your limbs, feeling blood flow to your extremities once more, then start lumbering around the apartment to find the front door. It’s not even locked and you step out into the poorly lit hall, your ears straining for any movement behind any of the other apartment doors. SHIELD had warned you that the building was filled with a mix of actual HYDRA agents and legitimate residents, but it went without saying that none of them would take too kindly to an Avenger letting themselves in out of nowhere. 

“We’re entering the ground level now,” Steve’s voice crackles in your earpiece. “Y/N, where are you?”

“Exactly where I’m supposed to be,” you hiss back, stationing yourself outside door 1227. All you knew was that HYDRA had a lab cooking behind the door and that it was probably armed to the teeth. 

“Good. Wait for our signal.”

“Copy, Cap.”

You start counting down the seconds in your head as the rest of your team takes the old-fashioned route up the stairs to join you. Just as you reach 100, the door suddenly swings open and your mouth drops open.

“Wait–” This hadn’t been part of the plan; whoever was inside wasn’t supposed to know that you were here. A man with a shaved head stands in the doorway, holding what you think is a walking cane in his hands.

“What the hell?” he says. 

“Delivery?” you try, despite being empty-handed. You have to dodge backwards when he swings the cane at you with such force, the handle buries itself an inch-deep into the floor. “Relax, dude!” you say while retreating frantically. You notice he isn’t calling for backup (something you might be able to use to your advantage) as he yanks his cane out of the floor and advances on you. You’re pushed back down the hall, where the only escape is the window. Technically, you could teleport instantly to any place you could picture, but you know it would be a cop-out to leave like that while you were on official work.

“Where did you come from?” the man snarls, jabbing his cane at you and you lift your arms to protect your face (Natasha wouldn’t be very happy if that got damaged tonight). The cane stings where it makes contact even through your padded forearms and the pain irritates you more than anything. When the man swings the cane around for another strike aimed at your ribs, you grab onto the shaft and yank it towards yourself. The man stumbles, losing his grip on the cane and you take full control of it.

Without putting too much thought into it, you hold the cane in both heads and bring it down towards your knee, cleanly snapping the plastic in half. You toss the broken halves to the side, raising your arms in preparation of a legitimate fistfight, but the man seems to have other plans.

With a shout of rage, he charges at you like you personally hurt him by breaking his cane. You barely have time to react with the short distance between you before he collides with you like a cannonball. You tip backwards, not strong enough to slow his momentum, your back slamming into the window. The glass gives easily under your combined weight and all the blood rushes to your head as you fall headfirst down two stories.

As everything seems to process in slow motion, you wrap your arms around the man’s torso, twisting your bodies with lightning speed boosted by your superhuman abilities, so that you’re on top of him. Even in the dull moonlight, you see his eyes widen in shock when he realizes you’re going to land on him. 

You brace yourself for impact nonetheless, your jaw rattling and head whiplashing from the sudden stop as the man’s back bounces on the pavement. He goes limp beneath you and you push yourself off of him, standing and checking for any damage to your limbs. Fortunately, he took the brunt of the fall, and your enhanced physique along with your armor kept you in mint condition.

You take in your surroundings, finding yourself in a narrow alley adjacent to the apartment complex. It smells like sewage and garbage, almost strong enough to cause you to clap your hand over your nose to muffle the invasive scents. You glance up to see the glinting shards of remaining glass in the window you both had fallen out of. This hadn’t been part of the plan, but you hope the others won’t mind your detour. 

“Y/N, was that you?” Clint’s voice suddenly rings through your earpiece.

“What?” 

“We heard breaking glass.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it under control,” you lie, scratching your head and looking down at where the HYDRA agent fell. Except he’s not there anymore. “Oh, no–”

A considerable force slams into your side and you find yourself face-down on the pavement in the next second. Your cheek scrapes the asphalt as you roll onto your back, raising your arms defensively as the man points a gun at your head.

“How did you–” You know this is no time for small talk, but you can’t help your curiosity.

“Hail Hydra,” he interrupts, as if this is enough justification for how he managed to survive a two-story fall with you using him as a landing pad. You close your eyes and tense yourself for being torn apart by a piece of lead, but it doesn’t come. Instead of the thunder of a gunshot, there is a ferocious growl that can’t have possibly come from a human, and suddenly the HYDRA agent is screaming and swatting at a black blur attached to his ankle. He drops his gun and you kick it out of his reach, scrambling to get up.

“Down, down!” he yells. You’re not sure what kind of animal has latched onto him, but it has an unusually long body and stubby little legs that end in white paws. The man tries shaking the animal off violently, swinging his own leg towards the brick wall and you leap into action. You grab onto his shoulders and shove him back. He loses his balance and hits his head hard on the wall, slumping instantly and collapsing like a sack of potatoes.

“I hope that takes care of you,” you mutter, a little hesitant that a solid blow to his head would knock him out so easily. 

The animal, which you’ve now deciphered is a corgi, releases the man’s ankle and bounds up to you, opening its mouth in a goofy smile.

“Hi, little guy,” you say, kneeling and offering an open palm. “Thanks for your help.” The corgi’s entire body trembles in excitement as you pat his head. “What are you doing out here by yourself?” The corgi barks, but you can’t speak dog. “Well…I guess you can come with me for now.” You have no idea what you’re going to do with him in the long-term, but you don’t have time to think about that right now. You need to get back with the rest of your team.

The corgi’s stumpy tail wags and he grins adoringly at you. You’ve hardly known him for a minute, and you would already do anything for him. 

“What should I call you?” you ask, and he barks again. “Hmm…” Your eyes wander to the fallen HYDRA agent, for the first time you notice the badge hanging around his neck. It reads “M. Jacob.” You look back at the vibrating corgi. “How about Jacob? Does that sound okay?”

Jacob bounces on his paws and barks again, seemingly in agreement.

“Excellent. Come on, boy.” You click your tongue and he immediately falls in step beside you. The two of you exit the alley and walk around the apartment building, just in time to see the front doors burst open and Steve, Clint, and Natasha stumble out, all of them panting.

“Nice of you to join us,” Steve says. “Who’s your friend?”

“Jacob,” you answer, offering no further explanation.

“Y/N.” Natasha walks up to you, reaching up to brush your face and you cringe away when she rubs a bruise you didn’t know you had on your cheekbone. “What happened?”

“I’m fine.” You look down at Jacob, who stares at Natasha warily. “It’s okay, Jacob. She’s on our side.”

Jacob steps forward and sits down by Natasha’s feet, looking up at her expectantly for some attention. 

“And where exactly did you find him?” Natasha does not bend down to pet him. 

“He saved me back in the alley.”

“Why were you in the alley?”

“I…Uh…” You feel Steve and Clint’s judgmental eyes on you. You hadn’t done your part in the mission; in fact, the only thing you had done was almost gotten yourself killed and had now found possession of a stray dog. “I got a little distracted.”

“Because you saw the dog?” Clint asks, knowing your affinity for animals.

“No, it was a HYDRA agent actually,” you defend, frustrated.

“Sure, sure,” Clint says, but you can tell he’s not convinced.

“I was–” you start.

“Let’s get out of here,” Steve interrupts. “We got what we came here for anyway and we can debrief at the Tower.” The four of you (five including Jacob) start walking down the street towards the van again.

Natasha hangs back to walk alongside you, but she doesn’t reach for your hand the way she normally does. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, pausing outside the van as Steve and Clint climb into the back first. Jacob tries to join them, but the bumper is too high for him to reach, so his short back legs swing comically as he tries to heave his body up. You chuckle and bend down to scoop him up. He looks at you gratefully then scurries over to Clint, begging for attention from the archer.

“We can’t keep the dog, Y/N,” Natasha says, as you wait for her to get into the van first.

“Why not?”

“We have no idea where he came from. He could be one of HYDRA’s pets, or worse, an experiment by them.”

“He’s harmless, Nat,” you assure, and she sighs. Your willingness to trust had always been a point of contention in your relationship: Natasha always approached new situations, people, and things with a supremely guarded nature, while you practically threw all care to the wind if there was food or an animal involved. 

“How can you be so sure?” she asks.

You shrug. “I just know.”

“That’s not good enough, Y/N.”

“Please, Nat?” You give her your best puppy eyes (although Jacob could have easily beat you). “I’ll have Bruce run some tests to make sure Jacob’s not a HYDRA spy in disguise.”

Natasha stares at you, arms crossed over her chest. Her front zipper is drawn down just enough to reveal her cleavage, which is amplified when arms press her breasts up. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until she clears her throat and you hastily make eye contact with her. She smirks and you’re slightly annoyed at the distraction.

“So, can we keep the dog?” you ask, trying to remember the topic of conversation. 

“Fine. But you owe me later.” 

You already know exactly what that will entail, and you can’t remember the last time you had a night this successful. “Yay, thanks babe!” You peck her cheek quickly before she has a chance to tease you further and climb into the van to give your new friend all your attention. Jacob’s entire butt wiggles as you sit on the bench opposite Steve and Clint. He paws at your calf to beg to be carried into your lap and you cuddle him against your chest, enjoying the warmth of his fur. “You’re a good boy, Jacob. You’re gonna love your new home.”

***********************************************************************

Even though Jacob has four perfectly functional (albeit short) legs, you insist on carrying him all the way inside the Tower. Clint wakes up Bruce with a 2 a.m. phone call to bring him down to the lab, where he runs a few tests that Jacob seems to pass all of. He ties a loose blue rope around Jacob’s neck to act as a collar for now, and Steve dismisses everyone back to their quarters once Bruce declares Jacob safe to stay in the Tower, and you go upstairs with Natasha. 

“I still don’t know if this is a good idea,” she says.

“He’s harmless and super cute, Nat. Aren’t those the only two reasons you’re dating me anyway?” you add in jest.

“There’s a few other reasons.” Her hand comes down and squeezes your butt. She winks at you. “You should probably leave Jacob with Yelena and Kate so we can have some interrupted alone time.”

“I hope they’re awake.”

“Yelena never sleeps until we come back from a mission.”

“Okay.” You practically rush down the hall, Jacob bouncing in your arms and he glares at you with big brown eyes. Yelena’s door is open just as Natasha predicted, and you can hear her and Kate talking inside. “Um, hi, guys,” you say, entering her room unannounced and setting your new corgi on the floor. Jacob toddles forward, observing the two women with some uncertainty. 

Yelena and Kate are sitting with their backs propped up against the footer of Yelena’s bed, surrounded by a sea of colorful comic books they’d been discussing. 

“We’re back, and this is Jacob. We found him at the HYDRA apartment complex on our mission,” you rush to explain, feeling your pants embarrassingly begin to tighten at the thought of your girlfriend sprawled out on your bed and waiting for you. You could never really figure out why she was so horny after missions; you were convinced it was the way you looked in your suit. “Can he stay overnight with you two? Natasha and I…have some things to do.”

Neither Yelena nor Kate have time to ask any questions or roll their eyes in disgust as you hurry back to your bedroom and slam the door shut. 

Jacob stands there, looking almost concerned to be left alone by the only person he trusts so far. 

“Jacob!” Kate calls, pushing aside some of the comic books and holding a hand out for the black corgi to sniff. “Hi, buddy. I’m Kate and this is Yelena.” She makes the introduction as if the dog can comprehend their names. Jacob licks her hand and pads forward to bump her arm. “Yelena also has a dog called Fanny. I think she’ll like you, you’re very cute.” Jacob’s stump of a tail wags happily as Kate scratches behind his pointy ears.

“Speaking of, where is Fanny?” Yelena asks, suddenly reminded of her own dog’s absence. 

“She wandered off earlier, I think. She’ll be back soon.”

“Hopefully she doesn’t get too jealous of him,” Yelena says.

“Because Jacob’s cuter than her?” Kate asks. 

Yelena narrows her eyes at her. “You did not just say that. Do not let Fanny hear you say that or she will have you for breakfast.”

“No, she won’t, because you’ll protect me, right? Right, Yelena?” Kate says, looking at her friend in concern.

Yelena shakes her head. “I will make no promises, Kate Bishop. Tread very carefully.”

***********************************************************************

“Oh, fuck, baby. Right there,” Natasha gasps, her fists clenching in the sheets as your hips slap against her butt with every thrust. You drive forward with barely restrained strength, feeling the whole bed move and the frame bump against the wall. The heat around your cock is tight and silky, Natasha clenching around you rhythmically as you pound into her.

“You’re taking me so well,” you say, squeezing her hips in time with your thrusts. “Such a good girl for me.”

Natasha keens at the praise, dropping her face down into the pillow. You tilt your hips to adjust your angle, the ridges of her pussy dragging against your cockhead in such a way that you almost lose control. And Natasha almost does too, pushing back so you can fill her deeper and moaning in pleasure. 

“I’m almost there,” she warns, but you’re barely able to hear her over your own grunts. Wetness gushes around you suddenly, but you don’t stop your relentless pace until Natasha is whimpering and begging you to pull out. You’re careful to collapse next to her so you don’t crush her, rolling onto your back and your still-hard cock bobs and glistens with Natasha’s cum.

“You didn’t finish?” Natasha asks when she comes down from her high. You shake your head, your thighs clenching when she suddenly wraps her hand around your cock. “Take me again,” she insists, rolling onto her side facing away from you. Your muscular arms slink around her waist, pulling her closer to you and your cock slips easily into her again. This time, you are much more gentle with your thrusts, almost lazy as your exhaustion from the earlier mission finally begins to show itself.

You bury your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the vanilla scent from her shampoo. Natasha interlaces one of her hands with yours where you hold her just below her bellybutton, sighing in content at being wrapped up in your arms and filled at the same time. She can feel your abs flexing against her back as you try to maintain your pace, your breath hot on her neck as you near your release.

“Nat, can I–” you ask, and Natasha loves how you still ask for her permission before finishing inside her.

“Don’t let any drop go to waste,” she responds as you press your hips against the back of hers, cum spilling out of your cock in short, hard bursts. 

“Thank you, baby,” you murmur, your sweaty forehead nuzzling her neck. Natasha smiles.

***********************************************************************

Jacob wanders around Yelena’s room, sniffing in every nook and cranny and even walking all over Fanny’s bed. The girls watch him in amusement despite their growing exhaust at the early hour. 

“You’ll fit right in here, Jacob,” Kate says to Jacob, petting his back as he waddles by. “I’m not sure Tony will be happy to see another animal, though. He might start charging us fees.” She keeps her own dog, Lucky, at her apartment a few blocks down the street, but she visits the Tower so often that she might as well move over permanently. 

“If he does not let Jacob stay, I will cut his head off,” Yelena growls.

“Or, you can all just move in with me!” Kate says brightly, but Yelena doesn’t respond. Kate looks at Yelena and sees that she’s staring at the doorway, where Fanny has suddenly appeared. Fanny holds intense eye contact with the corgi perched on Yelena’s lap and for a few seconds, neither dog makes a move and everyone holds their breath.

With a vibrating growl that shakes her whole body, Fanny charges and Jacob leaps off Yelena’s lap to meet her, despite being barely a third of her size. Yelena lunges after Jacob, trying to wrap her body protectively around the small corgi, but he slips right through her arms and barks viciously at Fanny.

“Stop them!” she cries as Kate jumps into the fray, slipping her fingers under Jacob’s collar and pulling him back until he almost chokes. Yelena throws herself between the two dogs, hoping to break their eye contact and calm them down. Fanny snarls and snaps at Yelena, behavior Yelena has never before witnessed in her.

While Yelena yells at Fanny to back off, Kate struggles for her life to hold Jacob back. Despite the corgi’s diminutive size, he displays an extraordinary, almost supernatural, level of strength. In fact, it feels like her fingers are being crushed where they are wedged inside his collar, and upon closer inspection, Kate swears the corgi’s neck is thickening to the point where there is barely a millimeter of space left between her fingers and his fur.

“Yelena, are you seeing this?” she screeches, now trying to free her hand, but is only successful when the thin fabric snaps. Kate falls back, and now it is evident that Jacob is growing. Although he maintains the same long-backed, short-legged proportions, he is distinctly larger than Fanny now.

“Oh, God, what is happening?” Yelena says, crawling back from the giant corgi and shielding Fanny. Jacob barks, sounding deeper than before. He practically fills the room, the tops of his pointy ears brushing the ceiling and Kate screams in sheer fear as she presses herself against the wall to avoid being crushed on the floor. 

“Natasha! Y/N!” Yelena screams. “Get over here now!”

“Please!” Kate begs, before getting a mouthful of Jacob’s fur and coughing. Hopefully you and Natasha weren’t too busy to hear them…

***********************************************************************

“Natasha! Y/N!” 

You sit up instantly when you hear Yelena screaming both of your names, finally pulling out of Natasha and she whines at the loss of your cock, but doesn’t protest. She shares the same concerned expression as you as you jump out of bed, barely remembering to throw on a shirt and shorts before running down the hall. Natasha is right on your heels, wrapped in a blanket, and you get to Yelena’s room first.

Natasha’s sister is closest to the doorway, her body draped over Fanny. Kate is pressed up against the wall, her chest heaving like she’s run a marathon with something blue in her hands. Jacob is sitting in the center of the room, his ears pinned back against his head.

“What’s going on?” you gasp.

Yelena turns to you. “Did you…Did you see that?” she asks.

“See what?” Natasha crowds in from behind you.

“Your dog!” Kate says.

“Jacob, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You pat your thigh and the corgi comes running over, brushing his head against your leg, his tail wagging a little bit now. 

“Why are you asking him if he’s okay? That’s what you should be asking us,” Yelena growls.

“Your dog almost suffocated us all in here!” Kate bursts out. “He grew to the size of the room!”

“Grew? He looks fine.” You pick up the corgi for closer inspection, his paws dangling as you shift him at different angles to check for any injuries. “What are you guys talking about?”

“He grew,” Kate insists. “Look, he even broke out of his collar!” She shows you that the fabric in her hand is actually Jacob’s collar.

You shrug and put Jacob back on the floor. “That flimsy thing Banner put on him? It could have snapped just by grabbing onto it.”

“You cannot keep that dog, Y/N,” Yelena says. “He’s some kind of monster!”

“Don’t say that about Jacob!” you defend. “If you didn’t want to watch him again, you could’ve just said that.” You look down at the corgi, unable to believe your friends would be so rude to him. “Come on, Jacob. Let’s go back to our room.” And you and Natasha stroll back down the hall with your new pet, completely oblivious to the danger he could be.

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AN: Click here for Part 2!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[fantasynsuch]

Adam Stanheight SFW + NSFW headcanons

REQUESTS FOR SAW OPEN!

2.3k words

Sfw

How you meet!

you two meet probably in the hallway of your crappy apartment complex.

you run into him from the corner, he had his headphones in and was listening to it on full volume, and you were running late for work

crashing head first into neighbor? you dick he probably thinks to himself as he realizes he just ran into his neighbor.

he'd seen you around before: mostly rushing to whatever crappy retail job of the month you had

he had thought you were really beautiful, but he was a coward at heart, so never did anything about it

this time he didn't have the choice to not interact with you: well, without looking like a dick

"I am SO sorry. I'm such a dumbass." He rushes out before he can think

Youre still kinda in a little bit of shock, so you just look up at this incredibly handsome man who just face planted into you for a long while

he thinks your silence is you rejecting his apologies and he quietly apologizes and runs off

but you just were so enamored by him that you couldn't say anything

at work all you can think about is how you didn't accept his apologies and probably made him feel horrible

you were determined to make things right so after work you grab a couple packs of the smokes you always saw him with from the store and rush to his apartment

you timidly knock on his door and wait with bated breath

he sees you through the peephole and momentarily considers not answering it

but he sees the bag you have in your hand and is curious

he opens it, fully expecting to be yelled at for running into you

but all that happens is you raise the bag up quickly and say "i'm so sorry i didn't say anything, i feel so bad. i just was in shock because you're s-" you stop and say nothing after realizing your rambling

he looks in the bag and notices the smokes

you smile at him shyly

and that starts a beautiful relation

how you are as friends

you stay over ALOT

he tends to not eat the best so you make him alot of dinners and lunches to make sure he's eating regularly

his work as a professional stalker keeps him up at odd hours so those pre made meals are rlly a life saver

buying each other candy and snacks alot

when the other was having a rough month fiancially, you would try to pick up the slack andhelp them

that means buying the other small groceries and items to get them through till the next check

you stay over sm the other has toiletries like tooth brushes n soap at the others place

going to parties together but only talking to one another bc ur both not super extroverted

you just go for the free alcohol

speaking of which,,, taking care of each other when the other is drunk

he holds ur hair when ur sick in the toilet,

you rub his back when he's sick

when the other is actually ill as in cold or the flu, bringing each other soup n montioring each others temp

making sure the other takes their meds to get better

inevitably the other gets sick with the same thing, but it just ends up the same way with the other taking care of u

leaving notes in his mail slot when he's busy, and since its 2004, no fast messaging so "coming over at 5!! xoxo" in his mail slot

he lives kinda like a typical man with basically only a chair and essentials , bare ass living room

taking him to the thrift store to get like a decent couch n maybe an arm chair

helping him expand his wardrope to something beyond crappy second hand flannel n white shirt (preferably without blood on it)

helping him get through his trauma over the trap

you cant exactly help him get over it, but ur there when he has bad moments

holding him while he sobs in ur lap

just stroking his hair n reminding him hes here n not at the god awful bathroom

it really calms him down and reminds him he is present in this moment, not that one

he sometimes gets insecure about his scar on his shoulder and tries to hid it but you remind him that he shouldnt be embarassed for being strong enough to survive

helping him get back into normal non stalkery photographer- his need to make money to live kinda outweighed his desire to just take pics of birds

speaking of which: he def loves nature photography

he lives in new jersey, so its rare he gets to do that, but its a nice treat

road trips with him n he spends the whole time as a passenger princess asking you to stop n take pics of a dead tree that has a rlllly nice backdrop

ur crappy car probably breaks down once or twice but its part of the adventure

In a relationship

kisses. lot of f'ing kisses

neck kisses, forehead kisses, navel kisses. any types!

probably is the little spoon lbr

follows ur lead for the most part

want to go to the theatre? it may take out half his money but he WILL pay for the date

probably gets u sweet treats alot n writes a little note that says "love you babe!"

he def clings to you everywhere u go

got to go to the kitche? catch him hugging u from behind n not letting go

can't fall asleep without each other anymore

he used to have a twin sized mattress but he decided to buy a full after u moved intogether

speaking of which, he definitely moved into your apartment

you have a two bedroom n that allows him to have a red room for his photography and a bedroom

he probably only had a redroom and slept on the couch at his apartment tbh

typical man

very clean n likes to take showers with you

his fav thing is his hair being washed by you

the scraping on his scalp is incredibily grounding

he loves washing you as well, and not in a sexual way.

theres something so domestic about cleaning each other that he loves.

ultimately i think his interactions with cheating rich men has spoiled a bit of his view of marriage, but with you he really can see himself settling down and being a forever thing. beyond everything, he trusts you

he craves domesticity so he will enjoy providing for you and helping with the house

loves to cook, his mom probably taught him

doesn't really have a jealousy problem, though he can get jealous from time to time

very rare, but if he does, there might actually be a substantiated reason

doesn't want kids atm, as he can barely support himself and you.

waiting up for you to get home no matter how tired he is

wants to make sure you're home safe

rlly co dependent directly following the trap. can't be in the bathroom by myself, it reminds him too much of the trap. he needs you to be in the room with you while you speak to him through the curtain, or even better, being in the shower with you.

needs constant reassurance he isnt a burden on you

he feels like you don't deserve to be with a man who has so many problems

you tell him constantly that you will be there no matter what

holding hands just to remind him of your presence.

calms him down alot more than you expect

if you happen to be late getting home from work, he may partially freak out: thinking you left him finally

you'll find him sobbing on the couch curled in on himself

he's so vulnerable after lawrence left him there

he doesn't know that lawrence didn't break his promise intentionally so he holds alot of resentment for him

kissing his cheeks and telling him you'll never leave

onto more happy things:

MOVIE NIGHTS!!! you religiously watch movies together and spend most of the time talking about the stupidity of the characters or something.

never meeting his parents bc he's not on good terms with them

LOVES THAT YOURE ABOUT HIS HEIGHT, he's not a tall man and has never been insecure about his height, but the fact he's eye level with you makes it extremely intimate in his opinion

or if you're taller than him, his man brain goes ooga booga and thinks "tall woman/man" and all bets are off

NSFW

okay, to go ahead and put this glaringly obvious thing out there: HE HAS A THING FOR BEING A SUB!!!

He needs you to take control and tell him what to do

grab him by his hair and shove him in between your legs? yes ma'am

ask him to kneel and eat you out on a hardwood floor? done

he absolutely would do anything for you

he needs reassurance what he's doing is good: and rest assured, it is

he probably is a bit messy, and not very controlled

sloppy licks and desperate sucks are common

same thing for when he's inside you

ragged thrusts and a desperate pace

hes probably desperate bc you havent let him cum the whole session

his cock is probably a bit under average length wise, but good god is his girth something to marvel at

everytime he takes you he stretches you

very skinny man, and once you get your claws into him, he probably gains weight which gives him a cute bit of chub that you love to grab onto while he's thrusting into your hole haphazardly.

its almost like a leash

he absolutely needs direction the first couple times, hes so nervous he's shaking

you ask if he wants to keep going and he nods quickly n says theres nothing he's ever wanted more, but assuming this is following the trap, he absolutely needs someone to tell him what to do

could definitely get off from watching you cum (it's def happened before, his poor red cock hadn't been touched all night beyond the grinding on the bed he's hidden from you while eating you out and seeing your intense pleasure just,, he couldn't hold on anymore)

probably circumcised with a tasteful amount of hair, enough to be cute but not enough to be annoying

his nipples are probably so sensitive and he doesnt even know it, he's never thought to play with them

the first time you brush them he gasps and leaks precum

from then on they become a regular part of your routine when playing with him

PLEASE CALL HIM A GOOD BOY!!!

the first time you do, his head is thrown back in ecstasy from your mouth on his cock, and when you pull up, you tell him to look at you while still stroking his cock, and you say "youre my good boy. cum for me my baby boy."

he immediately cums and is embarrassed for weeks, even with your reassurance that it was the hottest thing you've ever seen

speaking of head, he loves getting it but he absolutely enjoys giving it more

theres something so sexy about being able to lick you to completion

when he gets head, he's so lost in his own pleasure that he forgets to breathe and when he remembers, he takes deep breaths

is so in love with your body

he thinks your the hottest person he's ever seen

would probably want to call you mistress or momma. i dont make the rules

RIDE HIM RN

he loves when you're on top, it makes him feel so helpless

alright so: he definitely wants you to peg him

grip his hands and place them above his head, and shove his head into the mattress

anything

his fav position is with his ass up in the air with his head shoved in a pillow and his cock hanging pitifully untouched. shove your strap into his ass while he begs you to make him cum

grab his face and kiss him while he wails out from the pleasure

shove your tongue down his throat,,, something!!

IN THE ODD OCCASION HE IS FEELING DOMINANT!!

rare

but it happens

he isn't some hard dom who leaves you bruised up

he will take care of you just like he does when he's subbing, but he won't let you order him around

grabs your neck and just holds. not enough to prevent you breathing, but enough for you to know its there

still sloppy either way

with him, aftercare is a must

thing is: you can't leave him alone after he's finished subbing, as it sparks some trigger that brings him back to the bathroom, where, in his mind, lawrence left him to die

you have to take him with you

you found out after he cries out and practically tackles you begging you to not leave and to stay with him and to not abandon him

its alot of rambling, but once you get him to calm down, he is pretty embarrassed, but you understand

you tell him to get up and hold his hand, or hug, while walking to the bathroom

wiping a rag on his oversensitive cock to clean it and seeing his face scrunch up is ur fav thing

you might make him eat his cum out of you to clean you up, but it just depends on how he feels. and it might start up a whole nother round so its a gamble

he probably doesn't fall asleep immediately afterward, and will stay there stroking your hair while you sleep to remind himself you're there, you aren't leaving and you love him

LOTS OF LOVE YOU'S DURING AND AFTER!!

something about you telling him you love him does something: it might be from him feeling useless and like a burden

when he finally sleeps, he's the little spoon and he whispers a quick,"thank you"before nodding off

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!!! I LOVE ADAM AND SAW AND AND pLS REQUEST SOMETHING!!

[dduane]

From the Writing Advice dep't: A complicated ask, a serial answer (part 1)

Every now and then I get an ask in the box that's complex enough that it has to be taken apart and answered in pieces. Also, sometimes I get queries in that are painful enough (in varying ways) that I elect not to attribute them when answering. This one is both.

I read the ask (and reread it, and rereread it, four or five or six times after it came in, and a bunch more times while I was on my back this week being sick), and gradually came to realize that for it to be properly handled I had no choice but to break it into pieces for best management.

There are three main strands to the issues this ask brings up: motivation, growth as a writer, and coping with or succeeding despite the current state of the publishing industry.

So let's dig in. Here's the first part of the ask:

I know there's no One True Path, but I'm struggling with this, and I'm sure others are too, so I'll just ask it. I want to make a career out of writing, but with shrinking attention spans and so much content to mindlessly consume, how do you keep the motivation to write? My friends get mad at me for getting discouraged when not even they read my writing. They get mad and say, "write for yourself, not for the validation!"

Welp. (sigh)

First of all, I think your friends are absolutely right. But we'll come back to that.

You have to understand that as far as the Search for Motivation goes, I'm probably Spiders DD, the outlier who seriously should not have been counted. I have been motivated to write stuff pretty much nonstop since I was eight, and did my first novel in crayon in a school notebook. (It was one of the thick notebooks. The ones with the black and white marbled covers. Most of you who come of US schools know the kind.)

So I'm really the wrong person to be asking about this, especially since it's now nearly the Year of our (Wood!) Dragon 4722, which would make me nearly, uh, six Years of the Dragon old. And being of such age, and a career midlist genre writer, I have the same source of motivation as the vast majority of my similarly-aged colleagues: the need to write or starve. (There's an Irish saying perfectly descriptive of my situation: "Too old to dig ditches and too scared to rob banks." That's my situation exactly. There's nothing left for me to do but to write.) :)

...Anyway, it's kind of amazing how that kind of motivation'll focus your intention, and help you keep it in place, once you're been working with it for a while.

At the beginning of a career, though, things can look a lot different as you start getting a handle on exactly what it is you like to write and why you like writing it. And having another job to keep you afloat while you find your way is seriously a very good idea if you can manage it.

It sounds very much to me as if you're still in the early "finding your way" stages. This is a place that a lot of writers pass through, so don't be concerned. It's rare for sudden perfect motivation-to-write to crystallize out of nothing. And never forget, the word itself is based on old Latin roots for movement, and provokes the question, "Yeah, okay, but which way?" Movement without intended direction tends to turn into a lot of unfocused flailing, which looks good on Kermit, but not so much on the rest of us.

(inserting a cut here, because honestly, this is gonna go on a bit)

So you need to sit down and start asking questions—and answering them—so you can draw some kind of map. "I want to make a career out of writing"? Fine. What kind of writing? Fiction? Nonfiction? If fiction, what kind? What do you like to read? Why? Is that something you'd like to write? Why? Why not? If there's something else you'd rather be writing—what else? And why?

The more you ask the questions and answer them—"Keep asking the next question," Ted Sturgeon never used to stop saying—and the further along your investigations get, the more likely you are (as you get close to the answers that matter) to start getting the itch to write something, something in particular. This process may take a while, and the itch may take a good while to manifest. Don't be alarmed by that. The old saying is that the fire from Heaven won't descend until you've built the altar for it. And it may take a while piling the rocks up into the right shape. Don't hurry. If this is something you intend to spend a lifetime on, make sure the foundations are sound. The time taken will be worth it.

And BTW, do you intend that kind of length of commitment? If you're not sure, that's fine. But there's no one else to ask at this point who can give you meaningful answers. This is the time to get into it. Work out what "having a career in writing" looks like for you. Then start investigating to see whether your conception has any foundation in reality as a kind of lifestyle you actually have decent odds on achieving. (Again, I'm an outlier here. I'd been writing for pleasure for a long time before I had the good fortune to befriend an actual career writer, examine his habits [and those of other writers in the LA area] at close range, and realize that this line-of-work choice was actually something that could be successfully pulled off by mere mortals.) After investigation, this is a call that only you can make.

But anyway. Once you've started experiencing the kind of motivation that comes of increased certainty about what you want to do and why, you'll find you're way less concerned about sourcing or supporting it externally. It tends to fuel itself. (As once it does descend, the fire from Heaven is tenacious stuff: more Greek than otherwise.)

But also: trying to designate outsourced exterior stimulants for motivation is a bad idea. The reason's simple: one day you'll need them and they won't be there. Conditions will have changed, or the outside-of-you sources into the hands of which you've resigned your motivational agency may not be available for one reason or another, temporarily or permanently... and then where are you? The concept's a nonstarter. If your motivation's acting up, you need to be looking inward, not outward, for ways to kickstart it. This is one of the most personal parts of the writing process. You need to own it.

(And yeah, even career writers' motivation slips sometimes: annoying career things happen, cyclic lows cut in at a bad time, you name it. Most of us work out ways to jar the motivation back into correct operation when it acts up. But for such corrections to work you must first know what it's like to generate or mine yours yourself... and you're still working on that. The methods you find to generate motivation toward doing the Work will also assist you in diagnosing it when it goes south, and putting it right again.)

Also: (sighing) Please let your friends off the hook as regards reading your material, and feedback. Your motivation to write should not be dependent on their feedback, and it's not a good idea to try to make friends feel responsible for keeping you on the creative track. Chief among reasons for this: they may not feel themselves up to the task of giving you the writing support you're apparently asking them for—possibly because they simply don't feel competent to. (This is where we could get into how I had to stop @petermorwood from rewriting his third novel for the third time due to conflicting notes from friends... but let's leave that for later.) At best you're possibly making your friends deeply uncomfortable. At worst, the pressure may damage the friendships.

Tl:dr; our friends may love us dearly, but that doesn't make them competent editors. If you're online, so are many writers' groups who'll welcome a new member who needs advice. Wait till you've got more data and clarity on your motivational issues, and then start shopping around for assistance that seems friendly and trustworthy.

And finally (for the moment), about other people's attention spans:

It'd be good if you can start training yourself away from the habit of worrying about those. For one thing, there's absolutely nothing you can do about them. You might as well worry about the 11-year sunspot cycle. The attention-span issue is just one more distraction from things you should usefully be thinking about. But also: A lot of what we hear about that situation strikes me as fearmongering (as, IIRC, it was supposed to cause the downfall of western civilization around the time I started writing for Scooby-Doo).

If you look around, you'll see that loads of people are willing to spend HUGE amounts of their attention on stuff they love. (I mean, have you been on AO3 lately? And we're just talking about free stuff, there. Lots of other people will do the same for traditionally published work, given the chance and the money.) Your job is to get on with writing, start putting what you're doing out there where people will have a chance to fall in love with it, and then deal with the consequences.

More of this next time. (And please bear with me, as I'm still not up to best operating speed after the last week's illness. I'll get to everything else you sent me, I promise.)

HTH!

[vivian-pascal]

Temptations

sub!Javier x dom!reader

summary: Being next door neighbors with Javier is a pain, he's always inviting people over and you can never get any peace or quiet. But when he comes to apologize, you know just what to do.

warnings: mention of sex, reader has breasts, javi being pussy drunk, piv (wrap it up), oral m!receiving, edging, teasing, mommy kink, nipple play, handjob, oral f!reveiving

authors note: hey!! this is the 200 followers special, I hope you all enjoy!

It was easy, moving to Bogata three years back. You'd already spoken fluent Spanish since your parents were born in Columbia and it was good to communicate with the fellow people of the city. The one thing that bothered you the most was heat, and, well, Javier Pena.

You could say they were the same thing. Heat and Javi. He was your next door neighbor in your little apartment complex. He'd said hello to you a couple times and even tried to flirt with you. Which never ended well of course. You would get scared and go into your apartment just leaving him there.

It's not like you could get rid of him either, he was right next to you. Literally. Today was just like any other day living next to him. You were just trying to have some nice, warm, soup while reading your book when you heard moaning and grunting. Not again.

You rose from your chair as you put your book down. You couldn't deal with this again so you walked out of your apartment and knocked on his door. You waited a little bit as you heard some chatter on the other end before Javier answered the door.

Seeing him shirtless, sweaty, and still hard in his boxers made you instantly wet and sticky inside. You cleared your throat before speaking. "Hey, do you mind keeping it down? I'm trying to have a relaxing night in and you're making too much noise."

He looks down at you and chuckles. "Not today mi hermosa." And with that, he shuts the door straight in your face. How rude. You angrily stomp back into your apartment as you hear them resume their "interrupted" spicy time.

You go into your kitchen and grab a glass, filling it with whiskey, you down it in one go. Setting it aside your sink deciding that you'll clean it tomorrow. You walk upstairs and head into your room. You get changed out of your comfy clothes and into a robe. Once you're in bed, you turn your lamp off and close your eyes.

You're roughly woken up when you suddenly hear knocking on your front door. You reach over and check the time to see it's not even midnight. You roll your eyes as you get out of bed and walk downstairs. You look through the peep hole and see that it's Javier.

You unlock the door a little as you look at him. He lifts his head and slowly begins to examine you. "Yes?" You look at him in frustration as he just stares. He clears his throat and adjusts his jacket. "Hey."

You look at him as you try and prod more information out of him on why exactly he's here. "Is that all Javi or what the hell?" His eyes are glued to your chest and he closes his eyes as he leans his weight on his right leg. "No, just, your robe." He opens his eyes and points to your chest.

When you look down, you can see your bare breast hanging out. "Shit." You try and quickly cover it with your hand as you tie your robe tighter around your body. "Well thanks." You roll your eyes as you begin to close the door but he leans his hand against it, stopping you.

He's so close. You can smell the faint scent of the whiskey he might've just had mixed with the smell of sex and cigarettes.

"I want to apologize." The fuck? The Javier Pena is apologizing. Never in a million years would you have thought that could be true. You crack a smile as you cross your arms in disbelief. His brows furrow when he sees your little smirk. "Okay then, what exactly are you sorry for Javier?" He groans at hearing his name roll so smoothly off your tongue.

"For bringing girls over, it's rude you know?" You scoff out a laugh. "You're joking right?" He shakes his head as he looks at you with those puppy eyes. You grab onto his jacket as you pull him inside your apartment. "I'm not amused by that Javi, I think I should show you how a good boy apologizes."

His eyes instantly go wide at hearing what you just said. He's never been in this situation before but he is livid. You drag him over and push him down onto a chair. "Take your jacket and shirt off, keep those jeans on." He nods at your command as he begins to remove his clothes.

You sit and admire at his quick work when he's removed both items you'd told him to take off. You stand up and sit on his lap. You lean in close to his face and direct your head so your mouth is level with his ear. "Now, you're going to listen to me, and me only. Whatever I say, you do. Got it?" He quickly nods his head as he closes his eyes.

"Oh and one more thing." You sit up and look at his face. You tilt his head up with your hand so you make sure he's looking directly at you. "You don't call me any other name but, Mommy."

His eyes instantly widen. He groans at your words. You can feel how hard he is in his jeans and you love it. You slowly begin to drag your nails along his bare chest and down to his happy trail.

He groans at the feeling and thrusts his hips up into you. You bring your hands to his head and run your fingers through his curls. "Take my robe off Javi." He looks at you in a silent agreement as he slowly moves his delicate fingers along the silky fabric. He grabs onto the two strings and pulls them apart.

He lets the robe fall and opens his mouth in awe at your gorgeous body. "Hermosa" You chuckle at his sneaky pet name and grab onto both of his hands. You lean closer to him as you carefully bring his hands behind the chair. "You keep them like this. Don't move them." He nods at your rules and you begin to stand up.

He watches your every move like a hawk hunting for it's prey. His beautiful, chocolate eyes now a harsh shade of black as he sees you get down on your knees between his legs. You drag your nails along his covered thighs and down to his feet.

You carefully remove his shoes and throw them close to the door. You sit up on your thighs as you carry your nails to the zipper of his jeans. Your eye level with his very obvious hard on, and you decide to play a little game.

You gently drag your nails over his covered dick and he groans at the contact. You begin to rub against the fabric and his face distorts in pleasure. Your nails drag up to his zipper and slowly pull it down.

"No boxers? Isn't that just a sweet surprise." You chuckle lowly as he lets out a little whimper. "Carino." He warns as you push his pants down all the way, removing it from his ankles and throwing it next to his shoes. "Se buena para mi Javi." He rolls his head back against the chair as you gently rest a hand on his leaking cock.

He's big. You'd known that from the start and you just can't wait to get him inside of you, but first, he needs to learn some proper manners.

You begin to slowly rub your hand up and down his shaft. Making sure to pay extra attention to his leaking tip. Dragging your nail on the underside of his cock while the other slowly teases his balls.

He moans when you squeeze his aching cock and thrusts his hips into your hand. Your movements stop immediately and he whines as he looks down at you in a silent plea to keep going.

"Javier, what did I say?" He groans as you begin to work him up again. "Javi?" He whines as he looks at you. "To only do what you say." You nod your head as you begin to lick a long stripe up his cock. Your nose just about tickles his coarse hairs as you squeeze his balls. He lets out a loud growl at the feeling and grips the legs of the chair.

His legs begin to shake when you take him in your mouth. Gagging on his cock as he hits the back of your throat. His breathing starts to pick up and just when he's about to come, you pull off.

He lets out a shattering cry. "The fuck did you do that for?" You look at him from where you're sat and he instantly regrets saying that. "I'm sorry." You sit up and rest your thighs on his legs. "What'd you just say to me?" You look him in the eye as you grab onto his cock and forcefully tug. He grits his teeth as he curls his toes.

"I didn't mean it just please." You run your thumb along his slit and his eyes roll back. "Please what?" He hums as you begin to rub your seeping pussy over his dick. "Please mommy." You chuckle as you grab onto one of his nipples and twist it. "Good boy."

He moans at the new feeling and you sink down onto him. His mouth drops into an O shape and you moan at his thick girth. Your thighs meet his and he grits his teeth. You begin to slowly roll your hips against his and he thrusts up into you. You start to bounce up and down on his cock and he whimpers as his mind begins to race.

"Mommy wait-" You don't stop your movements as you begin to kiss his chest. He groans and grits as he tries to stop himself but he just can't hold it any longer. His legs begin to shake and you only realize what's happening when he lets out a long, guttural, groan.

You feel his hot seed spill inside you. It doesn't seem to stop. Just an endless stream of liquid filling you up to the brim. When his hips come to a stutter and stop, you look down and see the mess he's made.

"Well that's not very lady like now is it? Making a mess all over mommy." You dip your fingers between your cunt and his dick, grabbing some of his cum and reaching it up to your face. You insert your fingers into your mouth and suck off his cum.

You can feel his dick twitch inside you as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. You get off of him and he groans at the loss.

You move your body up and onto his belly as you grab his hair and yank him onto your pussy. "Be a good boy and make me come." He moans as he gets the first taste of your cunt.

He laps at his cum and your arousal while burying his nose on your clit. You begin to slowly grind on his face as he sticks his tongue into your weeping hole. "Fuck." You reach up and play with your nipples. Squeezing and rubbing at the delicate skin to add to the sensation.

He shakes his head back and forth and you moan aloud as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. "Jesus Javi, oh God." He brings his hands up from behind the chair and grabs onto your thighs, pushing you further down onto him.

You know he broke a rule but you're too caught up in the moment that you couldn't care less. His movements speed up and you're immediately coming. You moan and whine as he drinks everything that comes out of you.

He rests his head on your belly as you reach behind and grab onto his legs for support. You're both breathing heavily and you begin to stroke his hair. "You okay?" He looks up at you and smiles. "Si mami." You smirk as you reach up and kiss him. You look outside and still see that it's dark. "You wanna be a good boy?" He nods his head as you scrape your nails through his scalp.

"How about you make up for coming before I told you too?"

translations-

si mami- yes mommy

carino- darling

se buena para mi Javi- be good for me javi

hermosa- beautiful

tags!!

@kotourasan123 @heartramen @tupelomiss @simplewanderer @amyispxnk @ursagittariusgirlfriend  @livingonthehems @heartpascalispunk @pinkcrystal44 @iamsherlocked

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

{Falsifier}

Episode 1: ♡Deluder♡

《Waking up in a body familiar, but uncanny, you unknowingly save an Idol with twins》

《Warnings: Genderbend Ai, Ai Lives Au! Possible yandere. The story is for fun, more warnings to add later.》

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《Deluder: To cause to hold a false belief; deceive thoroughly.》

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WAKING UP in a body that wasn't your own wasn't something you enjoyed.

It felt like you were in bed. The next, sitting on the sidewalk with keys that didn't look like your own hanging on your wrist.

The feeling of the metal was cold and woke you from your thoughts.

Your skin felt like a rubber suit, or painted on... The sensation filled you with fear, so you did what any reasonable person would do.

You screamed in terror, jumping up in down while patting your skin and clothes on your back.

It was some work uniform that you had never seen in your entire life?!

While flailing about, you stop when people shot you weird looks. Judgment was very present in passer-buyers eyes. You shoot a nasty gaze right back at them, before turning around and seeing your reflection through a shop glass window.

It was you!

But, not exactly...

Your eyes were big and sparkly, hair was perfect, even after your panic attack. The clothes you wore were only slightly ruffled and a bag that you didn't own, hangs from your shoulder. T

You felt sick.

So you threw up on the concrete. You almost choked on your puke because you wanted to laugh at the shocked and horrified people that saw you spilling out chunks of black and purple.

Whoever's body you were in had eaten some weird-looking stuff. Gross.

Wiping your mouth of the residue and gagging at the taste in your mouth. Listening carefully to the sounds around you, which was some cheesy-sounding pop music.

You look up from your puddle of vomit and see a boy wearing your same uniform. Visibly weirded out by you, yet asks you if you were okay.

As if a switch was inside you, you felt like your body and mind were no longer in one.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little too excited, I got a new apartment so I have to deal with all the moving stuff."

The guy nodded politely, but his face lit up when seeing a poster nearby.

"Ah, I forgot! It's your day off tomorrow, right? Maybe you'll feel better by then!"

The boy was smaller than you, with short choppy hair and big yellow eyes. That's not a normal eye color, but they looked too real to be contacts.

You want to go home. Or to the godamn new home, your doppelgangers body had just bought!

-

"I hated today..." You groan, feeling whatever food was in the stomach of this body swish and gurgle in unpleasantness.

After digging around the bag that wasn't yours. You find a phone, I.D., wallet, and a note.

[Apartment number xxx, street xxxxx, keypad xxxx]

God or whoever, clearly had a love-hate relationship with you.

After walking inside the apartment complex, you smile proudly at yourself.

Look at you! Tired and scared shitless and finding possibly your forever home! Great.

Walking to your room number, you notice someone concealed in dark clothes following after you. Stopping at your neighbors' apartment. Quietly mumbling to themselves as they played with something in their pockets.

Weirded out. You ignore them before looking down at your doorstep.

You feel your eyes widen, a fond yet tired smile masking your face.

Someone left cookies on your doorstep in plastic tupperware.

Maybe.. Maybe that weirdo that was following you was your neighbor!

And you were just brushing off his kindness?!

Damn, now you felt like a ass.

Using all the energy you had left in your system. You hold the container close to your chest.

A friendly smile on your face as you walk over to over clothed man.

You call out to him happily. "Hey! I just wanted to say-!"

The door your neighbor who was standing in front of the door opens.

Your supposed "neighbor" pulls out a knife-

You throw up all over the attacker.

"AUGH! WHAT THE-!" Their weapon falls to the floor as a sickening *crack!* resounds in the hallway.

The attacker's body falls to the floor, vomit mixed with blood staining their hoodie.

Spit dribbles down your mouth, your body finally collapses due to all the stress in your system. Your eyes become blurry with tears or sweat.

You hope once you become unconscious that you'll wake up back in your actual body.

Unaware of the audience that watched you from their doorway.

Their star-eyed pupils become big at your fallen, disgusting form. The beats of your heart barely beating. Which caused your actual neighbor's heart to combust.

-

[Hey! I'm gonna try something new! Please comment, art, heart and reblog enjoy!]